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#so i hope u are all having a very beautiful day!!! do something you love today
astraystayyh · 7 months
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i literally was thinking about this yesterday before going to sleep.. small joys really go a long way. i learned this the hard way but, if you spend your entire life waiting for an epiphany where you'll finally experience this everlasting happiness then, odds are you'll never truly be happy..
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loverboybitch · 2 years
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hi yall im back from being in the woods for two days with some of my friends and every part of me is so sore and tired and exhausted but i had such a nice time, also this is pretty much the only pic i took on my phone before it died. could not tellu who that is or what was happening but it might be my friend falling into the lake cause he tried to stand in a kayak while drunk.//.
#imjustsittinghere#uploads#literally slept on the doc under only a blanket and the stars it was very beautiful except for the mosquittos#we made all our meals in a cast iron pan in the campfire <#very cool little day we just kayaked around and got wreckedlol#wish i could have like a decompress session lol 1 because i am exhausted but 2 because feelings and my friends both said some things to me#while absolutly off their fiucking rockers#my one friend going 'NO shut up i need to vibe with shane rn. listen. we wont remember any of this but i hope we grow old together'#baby......baby!!!! u mighta done too much k and not remember but baby i remember<3 same <3#my other frined who i have always thought is jus so cool and charismatic n hot stopping me mid sentence to say 'god ur so much cooler thanme#shutup!!!!!!!!! but also i love you thank you <3#anyway anyway im a little sunburnt n i have to fucking work a shift tonight lol shoot me in the dome please#but also im so tired n sore n i want to lay in bed and have someone rub my back honestly#oh lastly will probably elaborate at some point but yo just not being able to get texts cause i had no service then my phone died#for two days was like...blis..........#whenever we werent doing something iwas jus looking at the stars or thinkin or getting firewood r somethn#was a grand ol time <3 also cause we wantd to do bushcraft shit#we endedup making a torch out of tree sap and some old carpet and yarn and it kinda worked!!! for like 15 minutes at least!#definetly coulda been better but good first try#also some of the sap dripped onto my hand and i have a big gross blister burn scab thing gross ouchie
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pandoraslxna · 9 months
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could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
Want, get, have.
adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader
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Words: 5.2k
Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.
Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie
Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵
Na’vi translation:
paskalin = honey
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At first, it was a rumour.
To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.
The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.
As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.
It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.
And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.
So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.
The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.
The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.
Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.
And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.
"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"
Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.
"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"
A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.
"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"
"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"
"No."
Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.
As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.
You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.
But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.
Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.
Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.
There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.
He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.
Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.
Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.
"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.
They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.
And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.
"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.
Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.
"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."
Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.
"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."
Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.
"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.
It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.
Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.
Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.
It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.
As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.
"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.
"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"
"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."
Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.
You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.
"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"
"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.
But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.
"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.
"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"
Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.
You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.
Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.
Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.
"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"
You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.
"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.
"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.
Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.
With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.
"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"
Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.
"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.
"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"
Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.
"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.
"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.
"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"
"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"
"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."
"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.
"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"
"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."
And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.
"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.
"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.
Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.
A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.
The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.
Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.
"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.
Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)
But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.
"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"
Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.
Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.
But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.
His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.
"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.
Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.
It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.
"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.
"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.
Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.
Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.
"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.
"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"
Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.
The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.
He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.
But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback…
Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.
"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"
But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.
Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.
"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.
And that’s it.
The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.
His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.
"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."
You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.
Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.
Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.
It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.
Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.
"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.
Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,
"See you later, my spoiled little brat."
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httpswstef · 3 months
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HEADCANONS & love and deepspace boys♡
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warning : f!reader, just pure fluff, anyone can read. ☆
words count : 2652.
characters : rafayel, zayne, xavier, caleb.
stefie : hi! sorry if i have mistakes : ( hope u like it!
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rafayel !
the most playful little guy in the world! will literally do anything you want just to see your wonderful smile and hear your beautiful laugh! he is truly willing to go to great lengths, it makes no difference to him what exactly.
he will stare at you all the time, just because he likes it so much and you can't do anything about it, he is fascinated by you and he wants to watch your beauty at any moment. you are the truest angel for him, how should he get away from you? that's right, he doesn't.
he loves to stroke your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and look into your gaze, he tries to find something there but love and care for him.
like a ritual for a happy day - kissing your eyes and pressing his nose against yours and trying to make your breathing the same.
the boy literally wants to become one with you. to become your heart, air and soul (in the best and most adequate sense). and he doesn't want to let you go anywhere else, rafael is afraid that someday you might find someone better, though he guffaws about it, but will you find someone more perfect than him? no.
he's a very gentle kisser! he has such soft lips that you just want to kiss every second, and he can't help himself when he sees you and immediately tries to snuggle up to your sweet lips, makes a very hurt look if you don't kiss him, makes his trademark pouty face and waits for your apology. he's such a meow.
but also, he loves to cuddle! i'm sure that he is very warm and can warm you up at any moment if you ask, and you don't have to ask, he will realize it himself! because he is sticking to you 25/8 to share this warm energy and his love with you, gently stroking you with his palm and leaving air kisses all over your body, you will not be able to resist him 110%.
he likes to just lie next to you and talk about anything or be silent, rafayel doesn't care, the main thing is that you are close and safe next to him.
i think he gets jealous sometimes. you are his treasure and his most important love, he trusts you all his life, but raf can't trust other men when they look at you as their prey. He'd rather spend the night in the police station than let one of those idiots touch you, i mean it.
if you sleep next to him, there's a 100% chance rafael is sleeping on top of you, and you're trying to get out of his grip and he's squeezing harder.
he will never raise his voice at you, and if he does, it will be by accident. he'll be on his knees begging you to forgive him and not leave him. will apologize for another ten years to let you know that he's really sorry and he'll never do it again, because he loves you infinitely more.
you're his biggest muse and his only muse. he'll make an exhibition of paintings with only you in them. you. rafayel wants people to know who helped him achieve such a beautiful inspiration, he tried as hard as he could, he painted his paintings daily and didn't miss a single second, he spent a lot of time but it was worth it, because you were crazy about the paintings! smiled, laughed and cried so hard with love for him, it broke rafayel's heart. this is his number one exhibition and the one where he captured his life, his air and his one and only love.
his love languages are spending time together and physical contact! he wants to hold you close and not let you go, kiss or touch you in every way possible, warm you and love you with his love and he is endlessly happy when you spend time with him like this, play with his hair and draw with him, raf will be over the moon!
will call you baby and his love absolutely always! because it's true. once you get into a relationship, he'll already use nicknames, he doesn't care, you're his favorite and that's it. 💅
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zayne !
zayne is the most protective type of guy! he always wants to know that you're okay and you don't have any problems, and if you do, please tell him and he'll drop everything to rush over to you and protect you, help you and make you happy. it might have something to do with his profession, but either way, zayne just loves you beyond belief and wouldn't get over the moment if something happened to you.
already he wants to live together with you and come to your house, hugging you around the waist and kissing your shoulder. he wants to feel your warmth and let go of all the problems, bad moods and anger just by being near you and inhaling your scent.
he doesn't care if you work or not, he will pay for you everywhere and that's the truth! zayne wants to give you everything in this world, to make you happy and look at things while remembering your favorite guy, it will warm zayne's heart more than anything!
the most gentle and careful boy! sweetly holding your waist and stroking you a little while he listens with a smile on his face as you tell him something, he is so in love with you :( this may sound selfish, but zayne doesn't care who you are sitting with, he only wants to listen to you and look at you.
he has the most wonderful kisses. zayne kisses you with all the passion he has set aside for such a wonderful and intimate moment between you, he takes his time with you. gently he settles his hands on your cheeks and brushes his hands against your plump lips, savoring such a wonderful taste of love between you, trying to pull away every now and then so you can breathe a little, but he just can't, he wants to kiss you every second and never let go of those beautiful lips. will probably bite you a little if he's in a playful mood so he can kiss those spots on your lips afterward. 🫢
if we're talking about cuddling, it's one of zayne's favorite things to do. as much as he loves kissing you, feeling your warmth is so much more important to him. he can feel your pulse beating out his name and he smiles like a cat. just feeling you near gives him the best hope in the world and the fact that he's willing to fight every day just to keep you warm.
if you sleep next to him, zayne holds you very gently and sniffles softly in your ears. only with you can he sleep so soundly that he probably won't hear alarm clocks, he'll be late, but he'll kiss you and tell you how glad he is to have you in his life.
he'll text you throughout the day to see how you're feeling and if you want to visit him, and if zayne is more or less free, he'll have lunch with you!
he's not the jealous type. zaynehas confidence in you and in the fact that you'll never hurt him - that's enough. and if anyone starts thinking he has a chance with you, clearly he'll fly off to another galaxy.
he might come in upset from work sometimes and start ignoring you, just because he doesn't want to snap and say rude words in your direction, because he knows you don't deserve that. Kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much you love him - zayne will definitely cry and lay on your chest while you gently stroke his hair. he's such a baby.
his love languages are words and actions! i'm 100% sure of it. zayne shows his love for you through actions and doesn't mind telling the world about his endless love for just you. ( he's already planning to marry you and picking out a ring, hehe.)
will call you angel and baby! the cutest nicknames and only for you. he calls you that everywhere he goes and doesn't care about the stares of the people around him. you have the sweetest love! 🥺
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xavier !
the smallest baby of all! literally the embodiment of love, sunshine and all that is purest. xavier has the most tender feelings for you, which he kept especially for you, protecting them from stares and dirty hands, just so you could see what a beautiful love he has for you.
i also think he's one of the most romantic guys. He thinks out every date so that you will definitely like it, makes a plan and then goes to you to ask for your opinion, the only one he will listen to. 🫢
but also, he'll also be happy to just sit at home with you, talking about different topics and cuddling until the wee hours of the morning on the couch while some movie is playing in the background. xavier will look at you with a look full of love, you lit a spark in him and only thanks to you it is always with him.
despite the fact that xavier seems too sweet and kind, he also has his dark side as a hunter, he will not be afraid to stand up for you at any moment, no matter what they do to him - he doesn't care. after all, you trusted him and trusted your heart, now he will always protect you from the evil in this world. you deserve nothing but heaven and all the beautiful things in it.
i would say xavier is the type of guy who loves hugs much more than kisses, just feeling your heartbeat and breathing - makes him happier than ever. him holding you close and stroking you with his palm while his other hand goes through your hair is something much more than just love, it's a special intimacy, keep it.
speaking of kissing though, xavier loves kissing your cheeks and hands! his most favorite places and the ones he once kissed for the first time, they are precious to him and so he dare not leave them without his special love. his lips are VERY soft, even too soft! the ones you want to kiss every second of the day. 😭 before nestling his lips on yours, xavier runs his finger along your cheeks and is sure to whisper sweet words, im sure!
i think he's jealous, sometimes too jealous. he's just afraid you'll leave him or find someone better. ☹️ seriously, the boy is ready to fight for you with anyone, just so you can feel his endless love. but don't worry, he will never blame you or fight with you, xavier is beyond that, he will just get over it and come running to you for a cuddle afterward!
and based on that, xavier is not a fan of fighting, just like the rest of the guys. he is a sweet baby and wants you to have a loving relationship with him and no aggression.
xavier loves to sleep next to you, because it's so peaceful and he knows that you are absolutely fine. covering you with his warm blanket and pulling you even closer to him! trying to put you together like a puzzle and kisses you softly behind your ear and then kisses your neck to let you know that xavier is there for you and always will be.
he will cook for you! even if he doesn't know how to cook, he will learn how to cook so that he can delight you every day with his masterpieces and see your smile after his incredibly tasty dishes.
like i said before, xavier is the most tactile baby of all, so his primary love language is physical contact! he loves snuggling with you, he loves cuddling, he loves stroking you, he loves when you sit on his lap, he loves when you braid his hair, he is just crazy about the way your bodies interact and the warmth you give each other. and another love language is support! you are his best and most loyal friend, he will trust you with all his secrets and more. xavier also wants to be your source of energy for the whole day, support you when you are in a bad mood and want to cry, or when you want to be alone, but he will still check in on you from time to time to make sure you are okay.
calling you all kinds of cute nicknames! he has no favorites, to him you are a baby, toddler, baby girl, little girl, princess, kitten, bear and everything in between. he is too sweet and wants you to know how beautiful you are in his eyes and what a gorgeous girl you are!
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caleb !
my baby caleb! the most favorite of all and the one I myself would do anything for and protect him from any evil. 🥺 he has got all types of softie guys in him and is loving, and protective, and sweet, and hot! he is literally everything, i can say you won the lottery if you accepted his love, because caleb will give you the ultimate paradise with soft clouds, heartfelt confessions and with your most favorite fruits! my boy is the most loving and so he will do the best for his angel.
plus, he is the ultimate jokester! when caleb is around you, he always tries to make a joke somehow to make you smile sunny and then tickle you and hear your laughter that will make caleb himself laugh to tears.
caleb just walks up to you and rests his head on top of yours and follows you around like a lost child. 😭 i swear, if you walk downtown together, he'll probably cling to you so he doesn't lose sight of you (he's afraid of losing you.)
he also loves to eat and so he always wants to take you to different places he likes and treat you to something yummy for how well you did! (even if you didn't do anything.)
he's not jealous at all because he's confident in your relationship and won't let anyone ruin it. your harmony and your love is far above anything in his life, he is ready to keep it in his soul forever and even in death he will love you with his tender love. even if caleb notices someone trying to hit on you, he knows that person will get nothing, because you are only loyal to your gorgeous boyfriend and no one else. he will also make sure to stand up for you and tell the person to go elsewhere and leave you alone.
will introduce you to his grandmother without fail! he loves you both dearly and is confident that you will get along and find common ground, making caleb the happiest guy on this planet!
and how he loves to kiss you! very hard, but at the same time too tender! for caleb, all of you, beautiful and wonderful, all the parts of your body that he wants to kiss and give all his love! he presses his palms to your face and gazes into your eyes, mentally asking for your permission and only then does he kiss you, not allowing you to inhale and continuing to kiss you as his hands travel up and down your body. it's like you're the only thing alive to him in this world, and even though you are. 🫢
he has the tightest hugs and that's a fact. a hug that brings you back to the brightest place and protects you from every evil in this world while caleb quietly sings your favorite song to you, bringing tears to your eyes. he loves cuddling on your bed where he immediately and falls asleep on your chest.
he loves sleeping with you and waking up with you, as he feels your breath on his skin and smiles again, kissing your face and thinking he wants to wake up like that for the rest of his life. most likely he will sleep on top of you. 🫠 but no one minds because caleb is very warm and will replace any blanket for you!
never quarrels with you and doesn't care what others say. he listens to you and takes your side and then is completely calm to make his point. caleb cherishes you incredibly much and doesn't want to fight about anything, it's useless and too sad, and our baby boy always wants to make you happy.
so, love languages, what are his? most likely the most standard set of love: words, actions, support, and time together. that's what makes caleb happy and you don't have to pick one thing. he speaks many words of love that are absolutely true. always hugs you and kisses you at every moment to see the dimples on your cheeks. supports you in your toughest moments, tears you up when you're sad. and to top it all off, spends almost all of his time with you and wants to capture all the highlights of your life.
he calls you his baby girl and princess! after all, you deserve it. let's just say he's been calling you nicknames since day one of your relationship, he doesn't care. 😭 caleb loves it when you get embarrassed and try to look away, but he catches your chin with his finger and turns you around for a kiss gently purring "baby girl."
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headkiss · 2 months
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hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x
hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff
Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.
Until you.
You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.
Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.
Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.
The others know it, too.
Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.
Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.
“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.
“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”
Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”
Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.
Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”
You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”
“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“
“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”
Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”
“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.
“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”
“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.
The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.
“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”
He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.
“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”
“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”
“Sure it is.”
When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.
You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.
“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.
Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.
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sukunasweetheart · 6 months
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👀👉🏾👈🏾 Sukuna x Reader ex's to lovers?
wowowow i cant believe im doing like another celebrity au again but here goes nothing ahaha...
i love this trope, i ended up writing a WHOLE, lengthy ass, detailed plotline on it i hope u dont mind <3 (A WHOLE WHOPPING 6K WORDS YALL)
prepare for hella angst, OOC sukuna, insecure fem!reader, ghosting, messy break up, conflicting and complicated feelings + sexual tension and then intense smut @ the end (make up sex)
imagine sukuna being like, an amateur model-turned-actor, with you being his highschool sweetheart, who was there to support him since day one
a very happy, fulfilling relationship for the most part-- until he starts gaining huge amounts of popularity.
youve always known that he was meant and born to reach sky-high levels of success, and you were certain he was going to make it one day
but things get rockier by the second, and insecurity is such an ugly, ugly thing
seeing him model with other beautiful celebrities, acting in roles where he had a love interest to kiss and fondle, reading those gossip scandal articles involving him and another party every few months or so-
it all got too much for you.
all you needed was some reassurance... but young and vivacious sukuna, drunk on this fame and attention, failed to recognise that and left you feeling neglected.
not on purpose tho, he's never engaged in infidelity, he's never gazed upon someone else with lust or love on his mind - he was using everyone around him as a stepping stone towards his own career
sukuna's known you since forever, and he was confident that you knew his affection for you was unwavering... so he failed to understand where you were coming from whenever you brought these things up
arguments after arguments after arguments
the worst part of it was that he wanted to keep his relationship with you a secret. saying something about how having a significant other would slow his progress in his career down... the decision was urged on by the entertainment company that he was in a contract with
it hurt so damn much when he was being interviewed on tv about his romantic life, only for him to tell the world he was single.
it leads to more arguing.
of course, as a rising celebrity, he was quite awfully busy with many business trips and attending a lot of parties and galas
another terrible fight occurred right before he had to leave for a flight overseas but by then, youd pretty much already decided that you were going to leave him
you basically ghosted him, packing all your belongings overnight, blocking his number and all his social media accounts, making sure even all yours and his mutual friends didn't know of your whereabouts. you're going to start fresh. and give him no closure.
it was petty revenge, and maybe immature of you, but you were just as young as he was, and you wanted him to hurt as badly as you were hurting back then.
sukuna's still overseas, having just come back from another fancy gathering and is fresh out of the shower, in his hotel room... he decides he's gonna try and give you a call, but ofc you don't pick up
he sighs and convinces himself that he'll sort things out with you later when he gets back, not knowing that there won't be a 'later'.
meanwhile you're dragging a suitcase out of the apartment, taking a taxi somewhere else far away, crying as you pass by giant billboards that have pictures of sukuna plastered all over
he feels like such a faraway person now. no longer someone who you used to cuddle closely in bed, or hold hands with. you're not even sure of who you are without him anymore.
you could imagine his reaction when he came home, only to find your entire existence missing. seriously, it was like you were never there. you left nothing of yours behind, and the place was cleaned spick and span, not a hair of yours to be found.
when was the last time sukuna felt so panicked?? this dull ache in his chest, as he spams you calls and texts that never reach you
he contacts mutual friends in rotation but everyone is absolutely clueless... he considers filing a missing persons case but then a trusted friend of yours tells him to not look for you... and that you wanted them to relay a message to him, just a simple goodbye.
what the fuck are you talking about?
oh, here comes a severe headache.
his mind is whirring with overlapping memories, thoughts, regrets, thinking about any clues that might give away where you couldve gone, but theres simply nothing
the shock moves into sorrow, then denial, and then it turns to anger. does he mean nothing to you? so much so that youd abandon him without saying a word?
its like he was going through the five stages of grief, but for someone who he knew was still alive..
eventually, he finds a rebound out of spite. if youve left him, then it's means he's free and single, right? he gets himself piss-drunk, and beds another, only to wake up feeling absolutely disgusted. it feels like... it feels like he's cheated on you. even though you're already gone. he's just a mess of conflicting emotions, and it lasts for so long.
the reason why he doesnt hire someone or use some other underhanded method to actually look for you is because of a weird mixture of both his pride and feelings of insecurity, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve someone better, someone who understands you more... (and he's also fearful that someone like you, might've already found love somewhere else, and he's definitely not confident that he'll be able to act maturely if he sees its true)
eventually, acceptance does come... but does it really?
i like to think he went through many failed relationships, his partners always leaving him upon witnessing him getting intoxicated and calling for none other than your name in his state. someone who no one around him knows anymore.
years pass, and time really does allow you to forget. for both you and sukuna alike. in your mid thirties, both of you are single at this time.
you've been busy with your new job at some company (dont ask me, i was too lazy to decide what kind, so u guys can make this one up bye), and he made sure to keep himself busy as well. no time for fleeting romance.
of course, until fate does that weird thing where it pushes people together again... a new project lands in your lap, where it involves some kind of collaboration with THE celebrity, ryomen sukuna. of fucking course.
you really did desperately try to get it off and pass this off to some other colleague but they insisted your involvement was necessary. what are you supposed to do? you almost decide to quit... but this job means a lot to you... you can't just throw everything away because of an ex... right?
and, oh my god, when the first meeting does happen, involving the celebrity himself, you and a couple other coworkers to discuss the project, sukuna sees you and his brain short circuits for a moment.
he starts doubting his own vision, and then he reminisces, in the middle of whatever the fuck everyone else was talking about during the meeting.
"... Mr. Ryomen?" one of the other participants ask.
he clears his throat, regains his composure and regathers his focus. he's an actor for god's sake. and he starts speaking, with thoughts of you in the back of his mind. about how much youve changed, but also remained exactly the same...
during introductions, you shake his hand and act professionally. his eye twitches. will you continue to pretend not to know him even afterwards? should he talk to you separately after this? no... doing that would mean he's the desperate one...
when you saw sukuna hesitating, part of you felt relieved. so you're not the only one getting freaked out. you don't expect him to acknowledge you anymore, though.
after the meeting, he walks out feeling confident that he's going to ignore you back, if this was the kind of game you're going to play with him. you mean nothing to him, just as he means nothing to you.
but he remembers the shock that went down his spine at the feeling of the warmth in your hand. he watches you take an elevator by yourself, and tries to make a split second decision on whether he wants to let you go, or if he wants to chase you down.
he probably shouldn't bother.
but he impulsively speed walks down towards you, anyway.
youre startled when the elevator doors are blocked from closing just at the last second, with someone's arm coming through between. your heart skips a beat seeing that it's none other than sukuna.
what is this sensation? this mix of fear and... excitement. you should be unperturbed. you're over him. he's someone from the past. you're buzzing with these feelings, but there also comes a creeping resentment that finds its way to you again, as you try to remember why you left him in the first place.
he unclicks whatever level you were heading to, and clicks on the highest level instead. he's gonna take you to the rooftop of the building, where he can confront you peacefully.
"Mr. Ryomen? Is there something wrong?" you ask him. still feigning ignorance. like salt to a wound. you know its another petty move from your part, but you can't help yourself.
"Don't call me that. You know damn well why I'm here," Sukuna drawls, sounding more sad than angry. they've really become strangers.
you grow silent, being hit with a pang of guilt. deep down, you knew you shouldve handled it more maturely than that. he deserved closure, and you needed it too. but isn't it too late for all that now?
the conversation flows tense, but unravels slowly. there's still a lot of questions being withheld though. he wants to ask you how youve been. were you able to sleep peacefully after you left him? why did you have to leave in the worst way possible?
a familiar headache creeps up.
simultaneously, the anger finds its way in his heart all over again. he knows he didn't do much good towards the end of their relationship either but ghosting him was plain disrespectful and childish.
you surprise him when you give a sudden heartfelt apology.
you tell him that you know apologising now after all these years is frankly almost meaningless but still, he didnt deserve to be left behind in that kind of way. you admit that you should've communicated with him properly that you were breaking up with him.
he's left kinda speechless, bc he was so ready to be all snarky to you after everything.. he's still mad, but he can't really say shit anymore without sounding like too much of an asshole.
truth be told, if you did stay around to tell him that you were breaking up with him beforehand, he probably wouldn't have let you go... where would you guys be now, if you never separated?
"i've always wanted to apologise. it's been weighing on me ever since i left."
...and yet, you didn't ever think to call or text him even once afterwards? he never changed his number in hopes for that, and he hates himself for it.
"i understand that you hate me now, but let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. and then we can part ways again."
that one pierces his heart, like a bullet. you haven't said anything technically wrong. he should hate you. or at least, he should feel indifferent by now. and yet... the way that you automatically assume so irks him badly.
"do you really believe that i hate you? aren't you the one that hates me?"
it's a stupid fucking question. what the fuck is he even saying? he wants to kick the elevator door.
"...i left because i thought you hated me, that you didn't need me anymore. and i tried to convince myself that i hated you too. but that couldn't be further from the truth. even now, i don't ha-"
before you can say any more, the elevator doors open, and a small group of employees are standing outside them, looking curiously in at you and sukuna. then, they realise who he is. they come flocking in, asking for autographs and pictures.
you quietly slip out of the crowd, and after giving one quick glance at sukuna, who visibly wants to pursue you again, you walk away to avoid gathering attention on yourself. wait-! dammit- he thinks.
he can't chase after you. he can't call out for you to stop. he can't push all of these people away. if he did, it will cause rumours and unfavourable articles to fly out. let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. his own fame becomes another obstacle between you and him.
back then, you were his whole world, yet somewhere along the path, he started to fail in making you feel like it.
he watches you take the fire exit towards the emergency stairs, while he's surrounded by overbearing fans who beg for his attention. you're going to have to walk down in your heels, all because of him. as he catches the final glimpse of you, as he's reluctantly dealing with his fans, he begins to understand, a little bit. he didn't want to understand why you decided to leave him. but he does now. a little.
a couple of stairwells down, you eventually pause for a moment and sit down on the last step to take a breather. you wipe your sweaty palms against your skirt. the familiar tug at your heart, in which your insecurities come flowing back to you, seeing him surrounded. you need to build higher, stronger walls around you from now.
when sukuna is done on his end, and sends them off down the elevator, he goes off to check down the stairs you went, but you've already booked it. slipped right through his fingers. you were about to say something important. with unresolved feelings, sukuna also takes the stairs down, with a heavy heart. each step down brings him another old, nostalgic memory of you to him.
from then on, the more he interacts with you during work-related matters, the more apparent it becomes that he still harbors feelings for you. he tries to ignore it, push it back down, but it only returns twice as overwhelming.
your voice. the way you smile. the scent of your perfume. exactly the same as back then. yet, he also observes the changes that have occurred in you; how you act, speak and the kinds of words you use, as well as seeing you in such a professional setting rather than personal - everything is coming together to allure him more, and he's in a state where he's unable to resist this attraction, but also unable to act on it, because he's not sure how you'd react to it.
he knows it's not just him getting drunk on nostalgia.
the next time he catches you alone, he makes sure to tell you that he doesn't hate you like you believe he does. you'd never admit it, but that gave you butterflies in your stomach.
in fact, everything sukuna does, even just locking eyes with you for a few seconds, is enough to make your heart rate increase, intensifying when he looks at you almost like... almost like he wants you. you must be imagining things.
he finds himself doing uncharacteristic deeds, like sending coffee for all the staff members. his manager passes them out to everybody, including you. he doesn't know if you still like your coffee the same way as he remembers, but he makes sure that yours is a little different, a little more specific than everyone else's, in hopes that you'll notice these small gestures of his.
over the course of the project, he inches closer to you, ever so slowly. but you don't seem to budge. even worse, you seem to be avoiding him as much as you possibly can. you avert your gaze from his. stagger away when he gets close.
he brings it up on one occasion, when he's able to approach you at the back of the building, where there's no one around, and no watchful eyes of a nosy audience. it's definitely frustrating and unpleasant- when he wants to speak with you, he has to keep distance in case another scandal rises. he doesn't want to drag you into the spotlight, without knowing if you're okay with it first.
sukuna only really talks to you when there's nobody around. maybe he's being considerate of you, but it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with you. it makes you remember things you don't want to. it makes you remember that being with him now requires a courage that you're not sure that you have. at the very least, you know you definitely didn't have it back then.
you keep conversations short with him, and try to leave. but he keeps at it persistently. what is he trying to do? is he toying with you?
"you're acting like you want us to get back together. don't do things that'll make me misunderstand," you tell him. you were trying to provoke him. expecting him to deny it harshly and back away, because you knew he was prideful- he'd never be caught being hung up over an ex.
"...and? what if i told you that i do want that? would you stop avoiding me then?" he takes one step forward, and you take one back, proving his point.
why is he pushing aside his ego for you? where did all his arrogance go off to? this isn't how the sukuna in his twenties would've responded. his answer makes you waver, and you don't appreciate that. you try not to show it.
"no. i'd only begin to avoid you even more. so don't start."
"i'm not," you deny, but your voice betrays you. he clings onto that.
"why? ...afraid that you'd cave in to me?"
like the way he's already pretty much caved in for you?
"you don't sound very convincing."
"...would you want someone who'd choose their career over you?"
that stops him in his tracks. he has nothing to say to that. because he did make that mistake. where he prioritised his job over your feelings.
"i don't hate or blame you for that anymore, sukuna. but you have to understand... i don't want to go through that pain ever again. i don't want to hold you back. we both deserve more compatible partners."
your own words sting yourself, and you try to go again right after saying that, because it's getting too much for you. his hand flies out to grab yours out of instinct, to stop you from leaving. leaving him again.
it's really not like him to be the clingy ex, pathetically begging to be taken back, but he's willing to throw such pride away if it means you'll be appeased. if you'll let him back into your life again.
"don't say that. you never held me back-- you were my home and my everything, and i was the one that started to take you for granted," he says gently, his low voice laced with sorrow, so uncharacteristically. you've only ever heard this kind of tone from him once before, and it was when his grandfather, who was like a parent to him, had passed away. his thumb brushes over your hand.
"give me another chance. this time i'll let the whole world know about us. about how much you mean to me."
he gets in close ever so slowly, and you let him, for only a moment, before gently pushing him away, with a hand on his chest.
sukuna hitches in a breath, heart sinking to his stomach. he wants to embrace you so, so, so bad. he needs your warmth. always has been. always will. but he sees that you're unrelenting, which breaks him.
"no, stop... i'm sorry, i can't."
you're still scared. you keep thinking about how lonely you felt when you were with him, at least right before the break up. seeing him laughing through the tv screen. alone in the living room. and all the arguments.
your hand slips out of his, and he lets you go. he feels empty when you walk away. hollow. the similar feeling he felt when you first left him, but less anguish and more despair. when he gets home, he tries to drink those feelings away. something he rarely does. old regrets and heartaches return, and he drinks until he passes out.
while he drinks, you weep. crying into your pillow, wondering if you're doing the right thing. wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. terrified of being with him again, but also terrified of losing him, like a hypocrite.
from then on, sukuna keeps a respectful distance from you... no longer trying to make approaches in secret, no longer pursuing you every chance he gets. but he still sends out coffee. even provides snacks to the crew. little do they know, they're the kinds of snacks that he knows you loved. hopefully, you still do. he'll keep his distance because it's what you want, but he wishes to keep doing these little things for you. subtly.
and you notice it, too. you have vivid memories of telling him about your favourites and preferences back then, and you recognise what he's trying to do. you drink the coffee. and you always grab a handful of the snacks. you do appreciate it. it makes you happy that he remembers. on a few occasions, you turn to look at him, only to witness him looking away at the last second.
it's not too long before the project is successfully finalised, and all their efforts have been rewarded. a celebration is due, and your boss throws a party at a fancy hotel for everyone to enjoy themselves at. sukuna had stopped going to so many gatherings and parties quite a while ago, but he attends knowing that you'll be there as well. he'll see you for the final time before he'll lose any excuses to be around you ever again. it'll be the final night.
you exchange a few words with him at the venue, but the two of you leave each other to mingle with other groups reluctantly, to avoid suspicion. both of you are quite tense all throughout the night, sipping on some wine to ease it, but it still doesn't relax the tension you feel, no matter how far away sukuna stands from you.
a few hours in, and you decide to excuse yourself early to head up into your designated hotel room. your boss covered the expenses for a night, and it would've been a waste to decline it, so you decided to stay. sukuna isn't around anywhere at the venue anymore, so you assume he's already left. you thought about saying farewell, but it didn't seem appropriate after you flat out rejected him. you still have doubts about the decision. because you miss him. but what's done is done, and you can't take back what you've already said.
however, getting to the hotel elevator, you notice he's standing there, with miraculous timing. you awkwardly "hey" him, and he says it back, hands in his pockets.
the two of you step inside when it arrives, and the thick tension remains.
"i'm surprised. i thought you'd be staying around longer for the party," you tell him.
he can't tell you that he found it unbearable, to see you hanging around other people, but being unable to get closer to you himself.
"i just got a bit tired," he lies. "did you have a lot to drink?"
"not at all. i had a few glasses, but i'm still sober."
"same here."
as the lift gets closer to your level, you get antsy, thinking about what to say before you leave, but your thoughts get interrupted when he asks you something abruptly.
"...can i walk you to your room? for the last time."
you swallow thickly on nothing, and feel how your chest aches at the words. last time.
"alright. sure," you say.
he wasn't expecting you to say yes, but he's glad you're letting him stay beside you a little longer. you're staring at the elevator doors, but he's looking at your face from the side. if only the lift would malfunction and stop, right here.
but it doesn't, and soon, he's really walking beside you as you get to your hotel room door, in silence. you unlock it using your key, and then that's it.
"thanks for walking me here," you say rather sheepishly. the thought of him wanting to spend even a few more seconds with you... your hold on the door knob is tight as you stand, face turned around to look at him. it's taking everything in you to stand your ground. last minute guilt and regrets are bombarding your thoughts, and...
"i'll say this now because i probably won't get another chance again," sukuna starts, looking directly into your eyes. his eyes are mellow, and he looks wistful.
"i'm sorry. i realised i never apologised, even though that's the first thing you did for me," he starts. he knows there's a mountain of reasons he is apologising for, but he decides he'll keep this short for your sake.
".. i can't lie to you and say that i wish for your happiness with someone else. 'm not that nice." you know it the best. and you understand, because you don't think you'd be able to withstand seeing him happy with someone else, either.
"find your happiness elsewhere, thanks," he grunts humorously. for god's sake. he's never been good at things like this. being heartfelt. at least it made you chuckle a bit. his expression of indignation melts away into a melancholic one again.
"i still love you." (always have, always will.)
you fight back sudden tears, and your throat begins to ache. sukuna unclenches his fist, and tries to relax himself more.
"and...i'll miss you," he breathes the phrase out. says it so quietly, like it hurts for him to say. (i don't want to let you go.)
something snaps within you and everything starts to scream at you to take everything back, and stop him from going away. don't go- don't go- don't go-
"...goodnight."
he notices your wet eyes, and he has to fight back against the urge to reach out and wipe it away. to rescind his farewell, and pull you into his arms again - forcefully, if he has to. he needs to leave, before he loses control.
you're panicking, and your vision is swimming, and you don't think you'll ever be happy again if you let him go like this-- you're gonna be heartbroken in the worst way imaginable. you want him back, and you know you're being unreasonable after turning him down like that, but you don't care anymore. you want to go against your fears. you want to try being with him again.
before you can stop yourself, your hand catches onto the hem of sukuna's sleeve, seconds before he takes another step away from you.
his eyes widen, and he looks at your grip on his sleeve, like he's checking to see if it's real, and he's not making this shit up in his mind. his heart beats impossibly fast. his hopes skyrocket. the world decided to have mercy on him.
"...you're being unfair, grabbing onto me like this. after i went through hell just now, trying to say goodbye." he's being awfully patient right now.
you don't respond, only silently weeping.
he waits to see if you'll let go, whether this was just an act out of a temporary fickle in your heart, but your grip remains tight, and you're now just looking up at him with tears rolling down, eyes glossy and desperate, pulling at his heart strings. you only let go when he comes back to you, not hesitant to brush his thumbs across your face now, wiping the wetness away.
"what do you want me to do? tell me, and i'll do it. leave? stay?" sukuna coos at you, like he's always done before, waiting patiently until you've calmed down enough to respond properly.
"i shouldn't... i shouldn't let you in. not after how much i'd pushed you away," you whisper. today was supposed to mark the end of it all.
he doesn't even give a fuck about that anymore. what matters is now.
"...but do you want to let me in?"
"...yes," you hic.
he takes a couple of steps forward, making you step back with him, his hand on your waist to make sure you don't trip on the way. he goes past the doorway and into your hotel room slowly. one- two- three- steps. he closes the door behind him quietly.
"and..? what next?" he asks in a low voice, standing close to you, one hand still remaining on your waist, and the other on your upperarm.
"i... i don't know. i just need you," you mumble, looking up at him, eyes red from crying and half-closed. your hands inch up along his back, grabbing handfuls of his suit jacket. sukuna hitches in a breath and something dark flashes across his eyes. they reflect his desire, his almost carnal desperation for you-
"forgive me. i don't think i can hold myself back, anymore."
he captures your lips in his, and groans shamelessly into you. you grip onto him tighter, heart beating so rambunctiously that you fear he can hear it too. it feels too good. the moment he reached you, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in to complete a full picture.
you part your mouth, and he wastes no time in slipping his tongue inside, kissing you in the way he knows you love, in the way it makes your lips tingle, and, oh god, even after all these years, he still knows how to get you going like no other.
sukuna tastes the traces of wine on your tongue, and even better, he tastes you, the one he'd been missing and craving all this time, the warmth of your skin and touch, your scent, just everything about you, you, you.
he backs you towards the bed, without breaking this breathless, hungry kiss, where he softly lays you down, with him being above you, chest to chest, arms supporting his weight. he momentarily pulls away from you simply just to breathe, and the two of you gaze at each other for a hot second, full of love and lust, breaths overlapping one another. he attempts to ask you "do you still wanna continue?" just in case, but before he gets to say a word, you grab him by his tie and pull his lips to yours again, beginning to loosen it and take it off.
he understands that you want it, now. you successfully manage to untie it, somehow, with just willpower alone, and you start aiming for his buttons next, undoing them one by one. your actions send sparks down to all of his limbs, and he feels so fulfilled by your desire of him, being as intense as how he obsesses over you.
soon after you're done with it, he takes them off and chucks his own clothes away, rendering him half-naked. your hole clenches around nothing at the sight once he pulls away again, his firm muscles and the same old tattoos that you vividly remembered the patterns of. you greedily run your palms across his pecs, eyes turning to hearts. he smirks at you.
it's his turn now, and he doesn't hesitate to start undressing you as well. sukuna gets dizzy at the thought of being able to feast his eyes on your body. he dives in to keep kissing you, and then begins to unbutton you with such speed, it almost startles you.
it's off. your breasts are out in the open now, and sukuna has his fill with massaging them with his large hand, having missed them so much. his palm feels so hot, and your nipples pebble up at his touch, making you gasp into his mouth.
his kiss moves over to the side of your face, it glides down your neck, shoulders, and eventually reaches the swell of your chest. your fingers brush through the pink of his hair as he does so, and you purse your lips together, basking in the feeling of his warm kisses littering your skin. he leaves you hickeys-- the same shape and size and same locations as he used to even during your days in highschool, and you chuckle to yourself at the thought.
it's not long before he's loosening your skirt and slipping your undergarments down, getting rid of your slick-stained panties, much to his satisfaction. sukuna rubs a thumb over your aroused clit, and you whimper, having missed the touch of a man- his touch specifically.
"fuck... you're so wet.... all for me?" he asks, proceeding to slip two fingers into your weeping hole. you arch your back at the feeling, how his thick digits scissor inside of you and press up against a particularly lovely spot. he watches your every response as he does so, watching how you moan because of his touch, and how you're grabbing at his wrist because it's getting too intense. his cock prods uncomfortably against his pants. you're producing so much slick, and his fingers are getting absolutely drenched.
when he takes them out, you whine a little in disappointment.
"i know, i know. i'll give you something better," he whispers, kissing your cheek.
he unbuckles himself, and lowers his boxers to reveal his aching dick, tip wet with precum, veins bulging out the sides. looks the same as you remember. he pumps it a couple of times with his hand that's still covered with your slick, and he twitches. this isn't a dream, is it?
"oh god, please, i need it-" you plead, your hole feeling eager and empty.
"it's all yours," he mumbles. your begging makes him lightheaded as he lines himself up at your weeping cunt.
"i'm all yours."
when he sinks in deep to the hilt, you cry out at the fullness, as his tip pushes the spot inside you that had been feeling so lonely for years. your hands finds themselves against his back, feeling for his tight muscles.
"shit- 'm gonna lose my mind," sukuna groans as he gives a few shallow thrusts into you, cock so hard and throbbing wildly as your plush walls clamp on him and coats him with your arousal. he grabs one of your hands from his back and interlocks his fingers with yours against the mattress, before leaning down to bring his lips against the side of your neck.
"oh, thank god... thank god, you changed your mind. i love you. i would've been so fucking miserable without you, doll. for the rest of my life," he croons, breath fanning so close to your ear. you shudder at the tone of his voice, tearing up again, mixed with pleasure and relief, and you grab his hand tighter.
you turn your head a little more to the side, making it easier for sukuna to bite and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, as his thrusts increase in speed, nudging your g-spot with every movement.
soon enough, he's bringing his attention back to your tongue, which he caresses with his own, nibbling on your lower lip, maintaining this same perfect pace in his thrusts that brings you closer to your orgasm.
"sukuna- i'm- i'm gonna-" you say breathlessly.
but he merely kisses you again, swallowing up any words you could say or moans you could let out, not minding the gasps and whimpers that you make.
sweat beads on his perfect body, and he makes out with you through your high, groaning back when he feels your walls flutter around him. he's close. even once you've finished cumming, he begins to pound into you quicker, wanting to get to his own orgasm. you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure, as sukuna's tongue lathers your jawline.
he wants to breed you so fucking bad. but no, that'll have to wait. he can't do something to jeopardize your trust in him. he'd rather die than endure another second of being distanced from you again.
right before he's pushed off the edge, sukuna pulls out and desperately jerks himself off above your stomach, panting as his cock throbs in his hand with every spurt that coats you, feeling so hot against your tummy.
you feel a twinge of disappointment, because you also wanted to feel that in your womb...
his dick twitches weakly after being spent, and he breathes heavily, liking the sight of you being covered in his seed for another time. (and many more from now.)
" 'kuna... it's a safe day for me today," you suggest to him without thinking. "i want it inside me..."
the phrase is enough to get heat pooling in his abdomen, and he feels himself get hard all over again.
"you sure, doll? if it's what you want, i'll..." he begins to say, almost flustered by your suggestion. you know you shouldn't say this next line, but it's so easy to get carried away with this man... get caught up in the heat of the moment.
"i want your babies so bad."
you've hit his switch. sukuna growls and puts you into a mating press instantaneously, making you squeak.
"no takebacks," he mutters dangerously, beginning the second round.
the night is long, but heavenly, as soon after he dumps everything he has into your womb, then proceeds to eat you out, making you cry for the third time before sunrise.
when you're awake, it's already heading past midday, and you're relieved to see that yesterday's happenings were not a dream, seeing as the large man is sleeping with an iron hold around your body, as if subconsciously afraid you'd leave him before he woke up again.
he awakens from his slumber to your light, feathery touches on his face, which puts him in a good mood from the moment he opens an eye. it was the scenario he's always dreamed of. waking up next to you, smiling.
there's much to talk about. about what's to come next, future plans, worries, and things they need to do to make amends for all the lost years between each other. but you decide to take things slow.
back to bullet points again bc im lazy to write it properly now
you spend the weekend w him at the hotel and stuff, just playing eating and sleeping, catching up yk
he tells you on his own accord that he wants to let everyone know that he's with you now, but he's worried that it'll bring backlash to you but you tell him you're going to be brave and take it, bc you WANT everyone to know
anyway prepare for turbulence
but everything'll be alright bc hes with you
im thinking about how mopey he'll be when you have to separate from him bc you each have your own homes rn, hes always asking you to come over or if he can come over to your place
and he'll be begging you to move in soon, like old times (he lives in a rich man house now tho)
and also thinking about how its a fresh start, but they also go through old memories and now reminiscing isnt painful anymore bc yall are back together
sukuna also says he's stopped doing romance genres in acting bc he had felt annoyed acting in lovey dovey scenes when his own love life used to be in shambles all the time
and bc hes at a point in his career where he has more choice in choosing between scripts that are offered to him, he's going to continue to decline the ones that have love interests, it doesnt affect him that much anyway
he's just being more considerate of your feelings now... and you promised him that you'll never just disappear like that again when you're upset haha...
sometimes when you still have a few disagreements with him, he keeps subtly checking up on you (hes traumatised, leave him be)
lots of facetiming when he has to go overseas for filming purposes <3
okay, thats all, bye <3
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ultralightpoe · 3 months
Text
S-L-U-T -Eddie Munson
Authors Note: this draft had been rewritten like 4 times and each time I just felt weird about it. I wrote half of part 2 and gave up so there will probably not be a part 2. I wrote this in August last year.
Word Count: 7908
Warnings: smut. (Awkward smut scenes) cussing.
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(Thanks for the gif @madisondixonhopper )
Enjoy!
It starts with a skimpy top and a huge crush on the resident Metalhead of Hawkins.
You had been made….. graciously, as your mother always said. Like Aphrodite born into flesh, pretty and plush. And you had been raised to be proud of yourself in your skin, that was how you were made and there was no changing that so why bother pretending you weren’t fucking gorgeous?
You loved short skirts and dresses, you loved your chest and all the shiny jewelry. Earring to necklaces and rings, you loves decorating your nails and doing new looks with your hair. Makeup, though never needed, was fun fun to you. You had decided very early on that you liked how you looked and you liked dressing up. The town you had grown up in was always open to it all as well, you never once heard a single bad thing about your looks and often got asked for tips and advice from your classmates.
But then you moved to Hawkins.
You truly hadn’t expected your outfits to cause so much backlash.
As it turns out Hawkins Indiana was very against letting people love their skin, so much so that within a week of starting your new school you had already been branded with something you had never been called before. Slut.
They whisper it as you pass, giggling to one another as you do your best to keep the cool and confident composure because you refuse to let anyone make you feel less than.
The boys leer at your chest, and often drop things in hopes that you will bend to pick it up.
Enter Eddie Munson.
You had been at your locker one day, fixing your makeup in your mirror when another figure emerged beside it, some kid from your biology class named Lucas Elks? He had never said anything to you in the four weeks you’d been at this school, and a wave of excitement passed through you as you realize this might be your chance to make a friend.
He starts easy, joking about the crap lockers which makes you laugh. You ask him about the homework from class and he disregards that by saying “I don’t do homework.”
And just like that he redirects your conversation to your locker, taking his finger and knocking on it, which makes the mirror you had hung in it fall quickly, both your eyes falling to where it lands.
“How clumsy of me”. He smiles and you smile back, waiting for him to grab it before you realize he was waiting on you to grab it. Embarrassment clings to you at this, him watching you pull your dress down a bit to get ready to bend and grab it. His eyes fall to your chest as you begin to move to grab it, but before you can make it far a ringed hand dashes out to snatch the mirror, pulling it up quickly making you stand straight and make eye contact with the kid who saved you.
He, a beautiful brown eyed god, holds out the mirror casually before bowing dramatically with a smirk. “Milady.”
You laugh slightly, grabbing the mirror as he stands straight again. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Have a good day.” He smiles, waltzing off after that leaving you with the Elk kid.
“You know Eddie Munson?” Not yet.
“No. Never met him.” You murmur, eyes glued to where he disappeared.
“He’s a freak.”
An extremely respectful and attractive freak.
-
Most boys at Hawkins were crude and nasty, and they made their intentions known quite quickly.
You were struggling at this school and it was beginning to eat at you.
Until Steve Harrington.
He played the game well. He played all caring and kind in the beginning, never once looking at your chest and never dropping things for his own amusement. He lent you his jacket during cold classes and gave you rides home from school. You ate lunch with him and found yourself with a warm tingly feeling at the fact that you had a friend finally.
It truly helped that whenever you hung out with him the slut comments seemed to die down.
You loved your friendship with him, and not to mention that small crush that had been growing on Eddie Munson? It was full blown now.
You spent your days daydreaming about the Metalhead, how he would open doors for you or pick you up for a date. He would be the type to kiss your knuckles and warm your hands.
This was all imagination of course, daydreams formed from slight moments in passing with him. Like this morning when you were both entering the school at the same time and he held the door open for you as you dashed to escape the cold in your tiny dress.
He laughs when you slip, reaching a hand out to catch you easily and allowing you to enter the warmth of the school, keeping his hand on your elbow as you wipe your heels down from the snow.
“Not that I don’t think the outfit is cute, shouldn’t you at least wear a jacket?” He smiles, letting go of your arm when you are stable, bringing his hands up to blow hot air on them. A blush coats your skin as a burning feeling settles in your lower stomach as you watch him, imagining him doing that to you.
“I-I didn’t have one that matched.” You mumble, feeling silly at the thought.
“Oh.” He nods, like it’s the most normal answer ever. “I get that. It’s a really cute outfit. Why ruin it?”
“I know it seems stupid. Why bother looking good if it’s freezing but I’m going to see a movie with my friend tonight. Pretty in pink? Have you seen it? Well I decided I would dress up-“ you were rambling, a lame rant that you’re sure makes you look stupid.
“Dress up as pretty in pink?” He smiles, and you nod lamely. “It doesn’t seem stupid. Sure it’s cold but if you’re a badass then you’re a bad ass. Can’t help it.”
He shrugs easily, hands moving to slip from his jacket to reveal a Jean jacket under the leather. You blink in shock as he holds the leather jacket out to you, a slight pink ringing his own cheeks.
“For me?”
“Yeah. It kinda goes with the outfit. I mean not a lot but kinda. Just in case.” He offers and you smile widely, reaching to grab the jacket and wear it. It smells like cinnamon and hot chocolate, and that burning feeling in your lower stomach is straight flames at this point.
You wondered if he knew how hot he was.
“Enjoy the movie, yeah?” He smiles, heading down the hall like he didn’t just make you want to jump his bones in the hallway.
-
“So what’s the plan Stevie?” You ask your friend once entering his car, still clad in Eddie’s jacket. “Heading straight to the movies?”
“Well…..the movie was canceled due to the weather.” He mumbles, shrugging. “Bummer.”
“Oh, okay. Are you taking me home then?” You blurt, feeling lame. You had been looking forward to hanging out all day.
“Well, since we already planned on watching a movie how about we just watch one at my place?” He offers, something gleaming in his eyes as he does.
“Okay.” You smile, this being the first time you hung out with someone in this town. “Sounds fun.”
So he takes you to his house, and puts a movie on. It gets dark quick due to winter and you both are sitting close together sharing a blanket for warmth as the movie plays in front of you.
You, still in Eddie’s jacket, are calm and relaxed as you keep inhaling the cinnamon scent of the jacket. That is until Steves hand coats your thigh under the blanket, your entire body going ramrod straight as you flush.
He leaves it there for a second, and you think that maybe it was just to sit there but then he slides it up, slowly until he gets to the dress and slides a hand under the skirt of the dress pulling a sharp gasp from you.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs and you panic for a second. Is it okay?
I mean you didn’t like him like that, but if he liked you like that….. you didn’t want to lose a friend.
And that’s how you ended up laying on your back with Steve Harrington above you, your dress pushes up to your hips and your underwear tossed to the side.
He had slipped a condom from his back pocket, and soon enough he was thrusting into you, breathy pants falling from his lips as he closed his eyes and began to move.
And you feel guilty at the fact that you weren’t enjoying it, so you close your eyes and try your best to get into it, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s jacket as you relax your body and just imagine.
Soon enough it’s not Steve panting above you with short thrusts, it’s Eddie. The cinnamon smell of him easing you and the brown eyes making you melt.
It’s not Steves hand awkwardly pawing at your breast through the dress, it’s Eddie ringed hand. And finally, pleasure follows.
You go from feeling awkward and nervous to melting into it, moaning a bit as that fire feeling in your lower half starts rising, you were close…. Almost there if Eddie could just move a little to the left and -
You are snapped from your reality when Steve moans loudly and finishes into the condom, the high that had been building up falls flat and you can do nothing but blink up at Steve.
“Did….. did you want to finish the movie?” You ask lamely, and he sighs.
“Actually my parents are gonna be home soon. I should take you home.” So he does, you say nothing as you get settled in his car, keeping Eddie’s jacket wrapped tightly around you as Steve drives you home.
Once you are out of the car Steve drives off, and you make the short walk to your door in silence. It isn’t until you are safe in your room that you let the tears fall, feeling weird and lonely.
Without really thinking you grab the phone book and dig around until you find the number you’re looking for.
You curl up on your bed, knees tucked under your chin and the jacket wrapped around you as you listen to the phone ring.
“Munsons place. This is Eddie.” You hear him yawn through the phone and your heart starts beating quickly.
“Hey! Is… is this eddie?” You ask, before slapping your forehead. He just said it was you idiot.
“Yes, this is he.”
“Hey, this is-“
“Pretty in pink. How was the movie?” He interrupts and your stomach flutters.
“We actually didn’t go see it, weather was too bad.” You mumble, the words feeling like a stupid lie on your lips as you realize they were indeed a lie. But Eddie doesn’t say anything, he merely hums through the phone.
“What’d you end up doing?”
“Oh just hanging out.” You lie, that gross feeling crawling across your skin. “I just called about your jacket.”
“Oh yeah! Cool. How about I grab it tomorrow? I can pick you up for school if you want?”
“That’d be great!” You smile, something blooming in your chest. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Anything for pretty in pink.”
-
So started your friendship with him.
Every morning he picked you up and every afternoon he took you home unless he had dnd. When word spread about you and Steve you had panicked, Eddie hadn’t batted an eye.
Steve ignored you, so you began thinking that maybe if you ignored it all then it would go away.
No such luck.
The students at Hawkins do not forgive and forget so easily.
Even now, after a long summer and months between the event you found yourself the butt of the joke as you follow Eddie through the school on the first day.
You had spent a majority of your time at his trailer, sleepovers and movie nights a routine. He tried teaching you to drive and you bought him a slushee to make up for the heart attack you gave him at a bad turn.
You had gone to the lake with him in the skimpiest bikini you owned, and he did not once leer at your chest.
You had tried asking him out before, but each time he seemed to shut you down so you settled into the role of best friend, you would take anything you could get from him at this point.
“Slut.” Someone sneers as they pass which makes Eddie smirk.
“Excuse me”. He mumbles, making them stop. “I prefer freak. Keep it simple would you?”
“Whatever freak.” The cheerleader sneers and Eddie smiles watching them walk away before turning to you.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumble, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and playing with the worn out zipper on it. He merely gives you an easy smile and shrugs like it was no biggie.
“They called me a slut.” He jokes, pushing his forehead against yours. “You good?”
Right now? With him so close you can smell that fucking cinnamon and mint smell he always had, imagining him moving the last couple inches and planting his lips on yours? No. You were not good.
But you smile and say “yeah” anyways and his own smile widens before he pulls back.
It isn’t until you get to his locker that you work up the nerve to ask him…… again. “Did…. Did you maybe want to go see a movie sometime?”
“We watch movies all the time?” He laughs, not looking at you as he tries to open his locker.
“Well yeah. But maybe like…. At a theater? And you know…..” why were words so hard to process? “We could go together.”
“Oh. Hell yeah.” He smiles and you feel an excited hope spark in your chest. “I’ll ask the boys what movies are playing and we can all ride together.”
And you had been friendzoned by him once more, you try to smile through it, letting him kiss your cheek before heading to class.
-
The boys all really enjoyed the movies, and you would probably have loved it to if you had been able to sit by Eddie. But Gareth and Jeff had taken those seats which left you between Paul and Jordan. Not that there was anything wrong with either of them you just wanted to curl up into Eddie’s side.
Then, as you thought about it a little more, you realized that maybe the boys had thought about that too. Maybe they had talked about it and played intervention, it did seem like Gareth and Jeff lunged for the seats a little too quickly not to mention the fact that you had caught all of them talking about someone but the second you walked up they went quiet immediately.
They are were probably talking about you, oh god they all probably knew you had a huge crush on him and laughed about it when you weren’t there. This was pathetic and -
“Hey.” Someone snaps in front of your face. “We going?”
You blink, processing Gareth standing in front of you with a bored expression, taking a moment to realize all of them are standing in the aisle while you’re still seated.
“Oh…. Um yeah.” You rush, only to jump a bit when the movie continues.
“Holy shit.” Paul mutters and they all stare at the screen for the 2 minute clip that just rolled. When it’s done they all whirl back to you.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were waiting for the credit scene?” Gareth laughs. “I thought you were crazy!”
Ouch.
He walks off to freak out with the rest as Eddie shuffles closer, reaching a hand to help you up that you don’t take. When you avoid eye contact and pull your skirt down he growls out which draws your attention whether you like it or not.
“What?” You huff.
“Why are you looking at me? You mad at me?”
“No?”
“You avoided my hand.”
“I didn’t avoid your-“ you start to lie and he holds out his hand again.
“Then let’s go princess.”
You smile, slapping his hand like a high five and walking past, knowing he’ll get irritated.
“See! You’re mad about somethin’.” He starts after you, making the three steps before grabbing your elbow and sliding his hand down until it’s on your own. “Keep my hand warm.”
“It’s September. Barely even cold.” You smile, gripping his hand anyways as he leads you out of the theater and through the lobby.
The second you both enter the outside world a small curse slips past his lips as you gasp and immediately move closer, the two of you staying huddled together as you walk to his van.
The second you get there he opens the door, glaring at the boy taking your normal spot during group hangouts.
“Move.”
“Eddie! I never get to sit here man-“
“Jordon move.” He sighs, hands wrapping around you from behind in attempt to keep you a little warmer as the kid takes his time climbing to the back. Then Eddie is helping you into the van, hands on your hips to help you step up and make sure your tiny skirt doesn’t slide up.
You get settled in the middle seat right next to the driver seat as he launches in, turning the car on and blasting the heaters.
“You ever think about wearing more clothes?” Paul laughs.
“You ever think about shutting the fuck up?” You snap, panic immediately taking over as your skin heats up. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I-“
But he merely starts cackling as the rest of them do, Eddie laughing loudly as he squeezes your thigh while Paul elbows you a bit before looking out the window.
You’re proud of yourself because you just said something that made them all laugh, and for once you felt like you fit in with the entire group rather than just Eddie.
He squeezes your thigh again as he spins the wheel smoothly, hands flexing as he drives with ease. That heavy hot feeling starts up again, your skin going hot as you imagine what else he could use those hands for.
Imagining him dropping off the others before pulling over and sliding his fingers up your thigh until they got to your skirt, how his lips would feel against your own and-
The daydream is cut off by the loud rock music Paul turns on, the rest of them beginning to rock out as you tried calming yourself down.
-
Next came Josh Kelleck.
He was a grade above you, and he was really sweet. You didn’t know what to say when he asked you out but people were watching and you didn’t want to be the bad guy so you said yes.
And it was fun, you had been dating him for about 3 weeks and though it wasn’t rock your socks romantic you did have fun.
On the third week you have sex on the couch in his basement, you straddling his hips, rocking back and forth as he mewled below you with his hands gripping your hips. And you were actually getting into it.
Here’s the thing, you were a terrible person.
You weren’t getting pleasured by Josh per se. No no no. It was Eddie below you, it was Eddie gripping your hips as you bounced up and down , his hair that you currently tugged on.
At some point you zoned out Josh’s lame whines and imagined Eddie growling the way he had that night at the theater, glaring up at you.
You were struggling to get there though, if Eddie could just start lifting his hips to meet your bounces then you would be better.
“Can you…” you pant, gripping his hair again. “Maybe like thrust up?”
“Seriously?” The voice under you asks, and you blink slowly because hearing him actually talk ruined Eddie’s image. Shit. You were so close.
But it was too late anyways, Josh sighs before trying to thrust up to meet your own hips, only for his face to pinch up uglishly as he finished into the condom.
“Jesus. Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
“It’s fine.” You mutter. It wasn’t.
He breaks up with you two days later, Eddie rolls his eyes when you tell him and a part of you feels like you might be annoying him so you smile and pretend like it’s fine.
“You don’t want to hear about my relationship drama.” You laugh. “Forget it.”
“I always want to hear about your dramas.” He mumbles, eyebrows pinching together. “I just don’t like how they treat you.”
Jesus. Why did he make the crush keep growing?
-
Closer to your birthday you try to hang out with the guys but they are all acting weird.
You ask Eddie during school one day if he wanted to go get food and he shrugs and says it’s a boys night. Guilt and embarrassment crawl through you as you realize that meant you were not invited and you smile and shrug like it was no biggie.
Leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly, enjoying the way his hand lands on your hip to keep you stable as you come back down before spinning to show him your outfit. He snatches your lip gloss as a joke when you almost drop it.
“What do you think today?”
“Outrageously cute as always.” He laughs, and you barely even care when two cheerleaders sneer as they pass, how could you when Eddie is looking at you like that?
He says his goodbyes, kissing your forehead before heading off to class and you feel giddy the rest of the day, by the last bell you realize he still had your lip gloss and you wanted to at least say bye before you walked home. So you trailed to the dnd room where you knew they would all be and fixed your hair in preparation to see Eddie.
You stop when you hear them talking about you.
It took you a second to realize it was you, and your hand was already gripping the metal of the handle to turn it when you did finally realize.
“-come on. It doesn’t annoy you that she sleeps around?” Jordon asks. “And that everyone in the school can always see her underwear?”
“You can’t always see her underwear.” Paul defends and you are grateful for him, something warm in your chest. “Just half the time.”
That warmth in your chest shrivels up immediately as they all laugh.
“I kinda like it.” You hear Eddie chuckle out. “She gives the world a show. No cares, confident and happy with herself. How can you not like it?”
At least he was defending you…..sort of.
“You just like that people think you’re banging her.” Jeff laughs and Eddie cackles at that, tears beginning to spring to your eyes.
Was this really happening?
“She complains all the time that she doesn’t like people calling her slut. Yet she never looks at how she dresses, like come on. Get a fucking clue.” Jordon laughs.
“Have you heard her? Girl has no thoughts going between those eyes.” Micah Hughs laughs loudly, the freshman they had just allowed join the group.
You had to get out of here, had to find somewhere else to be and-
In your panic to flee you trip over your own heels, landing awkwardly on the floor and in your panic to stand up you don’t hear Gareth come out of the door to use the bathroom.
It clicks shut, making you whirl to see as he stares at you wide eyes while you let the tears fall freely as you manage to pull yourself up. And it’s made so much worse when you have to tug your dress down your hips to cover your underwear from how you had fallen.
Of fucking course.
“Did you hear-“ he blushes, beginning to gesture to the door behind him before you blink.
“Huh? No. I was c-coming to grab my lipgloss and I fell. Kinda hurt.” You lie, swiping the tears away even though more kept coming.
“You want me to get Eddie? He can drive you home if you're hurt.” Gareth mumbles, looking a bit relieved since you had said you didn’t hear.
“No. I’m just being silly.” You try to laugh, cringing at how airy and vapid it sounds. Micah’s words clinging. “I’m gonna go.”
“Don’t you want to grab your gloss?”
“Oh! I have more at home, no worries.” And to get rid of that suspicion laced on his features you move to walk away.
“I just didn’t want people seeing my walk home in anything but my best.” You giggle, turning and waltzing to the doors like you weren’t truly crushed by what just happened.
-
You play sick the next two days.
You left a voicemail to Eddie’s home while you knew he was still as DND, probably laughing at how slutty and airheaded you were, saying you wouldn’t be at school since you were sick so he didn’t come pick you up.
Spending the first day trying to write it all off, figure out how to move on.
By the second morning you tell your mom to send him away if he knocks, which he does at 6:50 right in the dot. She tells him you’re still sick and you hear him ask if he can see you before he heads off.
“She’s sleeping.” Your mom lies and Eddie thanks her before leaving.
You feel nothing but stupid as you watch his car take off from your window.
She won’t let you call out for a third day so you get dressed and walk to school before Eddie has the chance to pick you up.
You spend the day pulling down your skirt as much as possible feeling dirty at every look you got when normally you wouldn’t have minded.
When Eddie spots you at your locker between classes he gives you a weird look.
“You wanna tell me why you walked today?” He snaps, leaning against the locker next to your own.
“I needed the air.” You lie.
“Okay. Well maybe next time let me know so I don’t show up like some idiot?” His voice is laced with irritation and you think about Micah’s words, something snapping in you.
“I don't need rides anymore.” You snap, watching his face go from irritated to shocked and straight to confused within seconds.
“Wait. Why? What’s going on?”
“I just won’t be-“
“Are you mad at me?” He blurts. “If you are, tell me so we can figure this out. You don’t need to walk everyday, and I was just irritated about this morning. I didn’t mean to be a tool about it.”
“I don’t need rides anymore. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You shrug quickly, slamming your locker and moving to walk away. He rushes to step in front of you.
“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I gave you attitude about this morning. Okay? Please don’t punish me-“ you can’t hear anymore, a bitter laugh crawling up your throat as you shove past him, feeling tears spring to your eyes when you have to fix your skirt.
-
You opt for jeans the next day, and though they chafe against your skin and you feel weird you are also glad you don’t have to keep pulling them down.
And since you donned sneakers your ankles weren’t screaming at every step.
But you still didn’t feel right….. this didn’t feel like you.
“You eating lunch with us today?” Jeff asks, walking alongside you after math, his eyes continuously falling to your legs.
“No. I have to do makeup work for science.” You lie, not meeting his gaze.
“I’ll tell Eddie then.” He nods, holding his hand out for a high five which you ignore and walk off.
-
Ignoring Eddie after school had been easy since you took the side exit out and cut through the woods to get home.
Immediately hiding in your room to do homework before you hear the familiar sounds of his van pull up and hear it slam shut aggressively.
Rushing down the steps the second he pounds on the door and opening it just a crack to see him panting.
“Glad to know you made it home.” He grunts, pushing past you into the welcome hall of your home. Before you can say anything he shoves something at you.
A small bag, from the store, and when you open it you see flu medicine and tissues with a box of chicken noodle soup.
“Jeff said you still weren’t feeling good so I got you some stuff.” He mumbles, seeming to detense a little when he rolls his shoulders. “I was worried when I didn’t see you after school.”
“Sorry.” For what? Not wanting to be near them?
“What’s with the jeans?”
“Cold.”
“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” He blurts.
“I’m not.” You lie again, shrugging. “I have to do homework and stuff. I’ll see you at school okay?”
“I can pick you up.”
“I’m good.”
“Princess, come on.” He snaps and you open the door to let him out, still not meeting his gaze when he storms out.
-
The makeup is the next to go.
You toss and turn all night, feeling embarrassed and miserable, and it’s nearly 4 when you fall asleep. You wake up late for school and jump to throw on a sweater and jeans, booking it out the door as fast as you can and dashing to school.
You miss first period and get a detention slip, people stare in the halls and you just feel miserable.
It’s made worse when Eddie finds you in the science room during lunch.
You had been napping, forehead pressed to the cold table, since you hadn’t slept last night. But that’s ruined when you hear the stool beside yours screech and you jump straight, eyes wide as Eddie tries to smile.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbles, reaching his hand out to rub your arm in an attempt to relax you. “Still feeling sick?”
“Yep.” You lie, looking away. He reaches out to feel your forehead for a temp and you let him, enjoying the small amount of contact you can get before you go back to avoiding them.
He sighs at the feel of your forehead, closing his eyes a bit while he looks like he’s debating something. “Fuck it.” He mutters before moving to stand, pushing your legs apart and standing between them as he shoves your face into his chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.
The second he has you in his arms he breathes out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head a couple times.
“What are you doing?” You mumble.
“It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to hug you.” He admits, holding you a little tighter. “How about we go to the diner tonight? I’ll even get you a milkshake-“
“I have detention.”
“Since when do YOU get detention?” He scoffs.
“I was late this morning.”
“You’re sick.”
“Tell that to the teacher.”
“I fucking will. Is it Mr. Rojas?! I’ll go talk to him right fucking now because that could go on your file and-“ he’s ranting as he moves to walk away, until you grab his leather jacket and pull his attention back.
He stares at you, eyes glued to your own while he just takes you in. And then after a moment of silence he whispers “you’re scaring me.”
“Why?”
“You’re not being you.”
“I…..” you try to find something to say, but can find absolutely nothing and just manage to shrug. “I’m tired.”
You expect him to get the hint and leave, but he shrugs back as moves to sit on the stool he started in, pulling out his Dnd book as you lay your head down.
After a moment you feel him start rubbing your back and let sleep claim you.
-
Eddie was miserable.
There was something wrong and he couldn’t figure out how to fix it which was beginning to piss him off more. You were mad at him, he knew that. And suddenly you don’t want to dress up anymore? What the fuck?
Since when have you ever…. God did someone say something to you? Did someone make a move on you? Was he too much? Shit he had to have made you feel uncomfortable somehow.
If that was true he would kill himself. If he harassed you in anyway then he would jump off the cliff-
“Hey.” Gareth greets, looking nervous.
“Hey?” Eddie greets back, eyes snapping to where his friend stands in front of the porch where Eddie is sitting with a cigarette in hand. “Why are you here?”
“I came here about princess.” Gareth sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why?” Eddie snaps out, feeling protective. If Gareth did something to you-
“She heard us.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That night at DND whike everyone was shittalking her? When I went to use the bathroom I saw her in the hall.”
“I wasn’t shit talking her-“
“No. But the other boys were and I know she heard them. She was crying and-“
“WHY DIDNT YOU SAY SOMETHING THEN?!” Eddie yells, flicking the cigarette away and moving to his van.
“Where you going man?”
“To talk to her.”
-
He doesn’t knock this time, he already knows your parents aren’t home and so he storms in and slams the door shut before he takes the stairs 4 at a time and waltzes into your room quickly.
Flicking on the light switch he sees you snap awake from a nap, reaching a hand out to your exposed ankle and dragging you down the bed.
“Rise and shine princess.” He greets, as you try to register what’s happening.
“Why are you here?” You snap, trying to wake up.
“When we’re you going to tell me you heard?” He snaps back, face getting into yours. “Huh? Just gonna be mad forever and stop talking to us?”
“Yeah! Maybe!” You scoff, eyes staying on the floor beneath him as he tries not to lose his shit. Look at me look at me lookatme.
Finally he loses control, hand flying to your jaw to make you look up. “Look. At. Me.”
“Why?! So you can run and tell your friends-“
“I didn’t say anything bad-“
“YES YOU DID!”
“NO I FUCKING DIDNT!”
“You said ‘she puts on a show, no cares’ and-“
“You do put on a show! I put on a show! This town is so fucking boring they they are begging for drama and we just so happen to provide most of it. What’s the fucking problem with me calling it?”
“Then you laughed when Jeff said-“
“I KNOW WHAT JEFF SAID!”
“YOU LAUGHED!”
“BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IVE BEEN PINING AFTER YOU!” He screams. “I wasn’t fucking laughing at you I was laughing at myself. And I’m really frustrated that you would think I would ever laugh at you for something like that.-“
“Okay so you didn’t say anything. You let others say it.”
“Since when do I have any fucking control over what they say?”
“Oh please. We all know you’re their fucking god. You snap your fingers and they all get on their knees. Yet somehow I’m the slut-“ his hand grabs the back of your neck then, pulling your face into his own aggressively as his lips finally meet yours.
He nearly melts at the touch, body fizzing as his stomach does waves.
You kiss back, thank goodness for it, wrapping your arms around him as his other hand snakes around your waist. After a minute you both pull back, eyes wide as stare at eachother.
You’re the first to move after that, pulling him back in to keep making out, which he happily does. You slide your hands under his leather jacket, sliding them across his chest until your pushing the jacket off.
He has to remove his hands from you to help you get it off, which leaves him cold and he tries to reach for you again only for you to step back and tear your sweater off.
“Wait-“ he blurts, heart stopping as your eyes widen.
“I’m so sorry. That was- oh my god I thought you wanted-“
“I do. I do I do I do. But I only want it if you want it.”
“I’m sorry?” You blink. Shit, we was gonna pummel Steve Harrington and that other fucking kid.
“I only want to have sex if you want to have sex. I don’t want you to do it because you think I want to do it.”
“I….. I want to do it.”
“You hesitated.”
“Eddie-“
“I just want you feeling comfortable and-“ but you are leaning up to kiss him again, a growl slipping past his lips into your own as you moan out quickly.
You reach for his belt buckle and he helps take it off, jumping from his pants as he tears his shirt off and tries to kiss you again before you reach to take your pants off.
“I like when you….” He starts, moving to help with your pants, all but tearing them off.
“You like?”
“I like when you defend yourself. When you snap at me and argue with me. I like that fucking fire.” He smiles. “It always makes me really hard. But I don’t like when you shut down.”
“I haven’t shut down-“
“You have.” He interrupts. “And you fucking scared me. I don’t think you’re a slut or anything else. I’ve always admired you for everything. You hear me?”
“I….” You didn’t know what to say, your heart beating through your chest and your lungs constricting. “I just-“
“I get it. Maybe you need a break from the dresses and I’m all for that. Hell, I’ll take you to get jeans anytime you want. And I love your face, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, with it without makeup. But baby these past couple days you-“
“I just was embarrassed.” You admit. “I felt disgusting and-“
Before you can finish your sentence he sighs out, looking to be in pain as he crawls over you until his forehead is resting on your chest and he collapses on top of you, keeping you held close. “Imsosorry.”
It’s muffled since his face is pressed into your skin and he wraps around you like a koala bear. “Imsosorry.”
“It’s fine.” You lie.
“It’s not.” He snaps, sitting up a bit. “It’s not fine. I’m so sorry. You were feeling this way because of all that shit and- you were never supposed to get hurt because of me. The rest of the school is bad enough but I wanted you to feel safe around me and-“ he breathes out, tightening his arms around you if that’s even possible.
“It’ll be okay.”
“I’m sorry.” And you don’t know why, but you feel the safest you ever have in his arms, letting him hold you and you both somehow managed to fall asleep.
-
When you woke up you were both still stripped to your underwear, but the comforter had been pulled up and your face was pressed into a pillow with hot puffs blowing on the back of your neck making you giggle as your body shudders.
He wakes up at the movement, the arm wrapped around you pulling you in as he blinks away the grogginess. “What’s wrong?”
“You were breathing down my neck.” You admit, laughing when he does it again on accident before turning so you were facing each other rather than spooning you. He takes to rubbing slow circles on your lower back where his hand sits, first a star and then a heart. His eyes are still closed, on the cusp of waking and dreaming still, his mouth opened partially.
“We didn’t have sex.” You whisper.
“Then why am I so tired?” He mumbles back, making you roll your eyes at his joke.
“I think….. it’s weird that we haven’t done it and yet this feels so much more warm and intimate than the…. Others.”
“You deserved better.” He grunts, eyes cracking open just the slightest bit.
“It wasn’t bad, it was just-“
“Did you cum?” You choke at his questioning, eyes wide as his own open up fully to watch your reaction.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“That’s answer enough.” He chuckles lowly before going a little serious. “Did…. Did you want to cum?”
“I……” your body is hot, and you’re sure he can feel your heart beating through your skin and into his. Finally, you let out your breathy answer. “Yeah.”
“Can I…. Can I make you?”
“If you want.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. But you know the second his eyes glaze over with a heated determination that he wants nothing more.
He doesn’t break eye contact with you, not as his hand slides from your lower back down to your ass and feeling the skin there in slow circles.
Then he moves his hand to your thigh, pushing a bit so you’re laying on your back while he stays on his side, his palm sliding across your skin slowly, warming you up even more.
“You’re gorgeous.” He mutters, eyebrows pinching together as he gazes down at you. With his hair a little wild from the sleeping and his eyes still glazed over you can’t seem to look away. “So freaking beautiful.”
He hadn’t even started yet and you were already a blushing mess beneath him, finally looking away to cover your face as his finger begins tracing around your panties.
“No no no.” He whines, pressing his face into yours as he begins leaving lazy kisses. “I want to see your face. Let me see you.”
“You’re making me nervous.” You growl out as his finger toys with the waistband of the lace fabric.
“Am I? Because I’m stating a fact?” He laughs lightly, nipping at your jaw before you finally move your hands and his smile widens from ear to ear.
“Eddie….” You blush, getting ready to tell him to shove off before his finger finds purchase between your folds, pulling a gasp from you as he laughs.
“Take a deep breath now.” He teases, rubbing softly and moving to keep kissing at your face, bringing his thumb to help his ministrations.
You moan when he presses that magic spot and you hear him gasp from beside you. “You ready?”
“I’m ready.” You nod a little bit too eagerly.
And with that he pushes two fingers into you, biting your earlobe as you moan, before he begins moving them in and out.
“Is this good?”
“Just…. Maybe….” You don’t know how to explain it, and you don’t want to make him feel bad so you shrug. “It’s good.”
“Bullshit.” He laughs. “Show me what you want.”
So you do, his tone making you more confident as your own hand slides down to cover his. “That’s it. Show me how you like it.”
You do, using your hand to guide his own, his two fingers pressing in and out of you as his thumb begins rubbing at your clit making you shudder in pleasure.
“Oh…” you gasp, the heat in your lower gut beginning to tighten. And then he curls his fingers and your back arches, a louder moan falling from your lips as he kisses at your shoulder.
He does it again, speeding up his thumb as your eyes clench, that tight feeling getting worse. Your stomach coiling as your legs shove together in panic.
“Wait-“ you rush, not understanding the feeling.
“Trust it princess.” He growls. “Be my good girl and let go, yeah?”
“Ed’s, no-“ but it’s too late, a cry slips from your lips as your high comes, that feeling finally uncoiling as your body shudders.
“God. You’re fucking Beautiful.” He growls, pushing his face into your neck to kiss you as you breathe in and out and begin relaxing again.
You’re body grows heavy, sleep edging at your vision but you sit up and move for the waistband of his boxers before he stops you, shaking his head. “Not about me tonight. Okay princess? Just let me hold you.”
And so you do, feeling a little weird at the fact that he wasn’t immediately jumping up to leave, closing your eyes as you finally cave into the sleep.
-
The next morning, to your shock, he sits at the end of your bed and watches you get dressed with narrowed eyes.
You start with the crappy jeans you had been wearing, but sigh when you realize they were still caked in mud at the bottom and slipping them off to search through your closet once more.
He watches, not saying anything at first but then he stands up abruptly and shuffles closer to move past you and dig through your closet for you and snatches a cute skirt with the top you always wore with it.
You watch with raised eyebrows when he hands them to you.
“You want a longer skirt?” He offers when you seem to hesitate. “I didn’t see another pair of jeans in there.”
“Maybe… a longer skirt.” He smiles at the answer, a purely happy smile, before he dives back in to search while you move to finish getting ready. He finds a longer, knee length skirt that still matches the top and moves over. Bending down and tapping your calf to tell you to step into the skirt. Using him to help you stay stable and letting him dress you in the skirt. His hands slide against your skin, and he zips it slowly before they slide up your abdomen up to your neck and to your jaw as he smiles. His thumb rubs your skin before you pull back. “Don’t mess up the makeup.”
“I would never.” He grins wolfishly gripping the back of your head and pulling you in for a deep kiss that definitely messes your gloss up.
You growl displeasure but kiss back just as heartily.
-
At lunch you don’t have a chance to hide in the science room, Eddie is waiting at the door and pulls you away with his arms around your shoulders. He pretends to faint, dragging you both into lockers as you laugh loudly.
“You gonna come eat with us?” He asks softly.
“No….. but maybe I’ll see you later?”
“Okay, well I can take you home after school or maybe…. You’d want to- okay how about we go get dinner. Just you and I.” He mumbles, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.
“Sounds great.” You smile. “See you after school then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby.” He smiles, kissing you once more before heading into the lunch room.
There was a lot of work to do to make everything right again, and Eddie had to start. Today he would be setting things straight with his friends.
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theragethatisdesire · 11 months
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pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!
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there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)
pairing: reader x jean kirschtein
wc: 4.6k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie
this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3
-
-> be there in 5 babe :)
You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.
Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.
The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.
You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.
“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”
“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.
“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.
You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”
Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”
You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”
“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”
“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.
“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”
Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”
“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”
His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”
“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”
“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.
“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.
“That it?”
“I guess.”
“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.
“Yeah.”
“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.
“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”
“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”
Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”
“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”
That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”
Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”
“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”
“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”
That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”
“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”
“No.”
“Submissive, then.”
“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.
“Like to be tied up?”
“Already told you about the handcuffs.”
“I bet you have a praise kink.”
That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”
Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”
“Sure.”
“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”
“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.
“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.
“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.
“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”
“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.
“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”
“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.
“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”
You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.
A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.
“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”
“Mhm,” you hum.
“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”
He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.
Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”
“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.
“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”
You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”
Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”
You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.
“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”
Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”
Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.
“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”
You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.
You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.
“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.
“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”
You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.
“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”
You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.
“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”
“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.
Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.
“Need something?”
“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.
“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.
“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”
Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”
“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”
“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”
“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.
“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.
“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”
You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:
“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”
Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”
“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.
“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.
“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”
“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.
“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”
The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.
Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.
“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”
“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”
“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”
Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.
“Want me to fuck you?”
“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”
You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.
“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”
You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.
“I’m not going to warn you again.”
“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.
You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.
“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.
“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”
“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”
“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”
You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.
“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.
“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”
You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”
“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”
“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”
“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”
Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”
“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.
“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”
You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”
You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.
“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”
“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”
“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.
“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”
“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 
“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”
“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”
“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”
That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.
Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.
“You okay?”
You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”
Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”
“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”
Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”
“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”
You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”
“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”
Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”
“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”
3K notes · View notes
apollosfavkiddo · 28 days
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⛧° will you be my prom date? - hoo boys °⛧
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⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: headcannons for my favorite boys of how they would ask you on a date!
warnings: cursing, non-estabilished relationship, slight sexual allusions (nothing too NSFW), friends with benefits, characters are all 18+,
a/n: i had this idea in the middle of portuguese class and i loved it so now i'm writing cause i'm independent MUAHAHAHA- jk jk i'm fine (questionable) annd i already started writing that fic i told u guys about... it'll be good, i hope
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
⛧Jason Grace
He does not know how to ask a girl out.
Like, he has no fucking clue on how to do that. You see, he's a perfectionist in absolutely everything in his life, and would be no less concerned with his girl. Who, by the way, is not his girl. 'Yet', he keeps telling himself that.
So, of course that he has to have the most perfect plan of all on how to ask you out to prom.
He'd do absolutely averything to make you feel safe and loved, so when you told him a few weeks before that the most expected experience of your school-life was THE prom, he took that as a subtle cue that you wanted him to invite you to go with him.
It indeed was, but you would never tell that to anyone.
Of course, the first person he thinks to go to is Piper, since she knows you and she's a daughter of Aphrodite. Especially because of that last one.
So of course she advises him on how she thinks it's the best way to invite you to prom.
One day, you had a evening date on top of the Zeus cabin - you both found a spot that you could throw some blankets and lay down together, watching the stars. It was almost on routine, but tonight he was very much anxious.
"Right there it's Andromeda. There, Orion and a little bit further down, right there, it's Pegasus." You say, pointing the constelations to him as you always did. But tonight, he wasn't staring at the night sky. He was staring at you.
How could you be so beautiful with those soft lips, those cute cheeks, that kissable nose, those always happy eyes... you were just too beautiful. And it was just amazingly cute how your eyes shined and your smile got even brighter when you were talking about something you liked.
So he decided to just fuck the whole plan up. Which was definetly something that the Normal Jason would ever do, but this was Madly-In-Love Jason. He'd do it, for you.
"You wanna go to prom with me? Like, as my date?" He'd ask you. You snapped your head towards him as if you hadn't heard it quite right.
"Um... what?" You asked, confused it he really meant what he just asked.
"Do. You. Want. To. Go. To. Prom. With. Me?" He asked pausedly, making sure you understood. You felt your cheeks burn bright red and a smile creep up your lips.
You leaned forwards and connected your lips in a soft and tender kiss, giving him the answer he needed. "Thought you'd never ask."
⛧° Percy Jackson
He only discovered that the prom was gonna happen one week before it did.
And that's when it clicks to him why you're being all weird and evasive, refusing his kisses, hugs and the 'i need you rn' texts.
Sure you were just friends with benefits, but still hurt you quite a lot that he didn't even bother to ask you to check if you were even going to the prom.
Little did you know he had no idea there was going to be a prom.
So when he texted you this morning with a ‘meet me at the aquarium in twenty.’ you considered ignoring him. But maybe he was finally going to apologize, you hoped.
The first thing you saw when you got to the aquarium that was the usual spot of your dates, he was there holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was looking at the mirror, fixing his… not messy hair?
That’s when you noticed. He was in a freaking tuxedo, which was a sight for sore eyes, his usually messy hair was all gelled up and he looked… even more handsome than usual.
When he looked at you, a smile immediately crept up his lips, and you were suddenly feeling weird in that old pair of jeans and a baby blue cropped. Still, he looked like he had never seen anything prettier than you.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He said and walked towards you, kissing your cheek softly. You smiled and blushed, forgetting for a moment that you were still mad at him. He handed you the flowers, which you took gratefully from his hands.
When you looked up at him again, he seemed… guilty about something. He wasn’t even looking at you in the eye when he sighed and pulled you close to him, hugging your body.
“I’m so sorry, y/n/n, i’m so, so sorry. I swear i didn’t know that the prom was coming, i just- i’m sorry for being such an airhead.” He said, giving multiple kisses to the top of your head.
“It’s ok. I’m not mad anymore.” You said, smiling at the boy in front of you. “How can i even be mad when you literally call me to an aquarium in which you are in a freaking tuxedo?” Your asked, kissing his lips softly.
“Really? You forgive me?” He asked, his eyes hopeful.
“Of course i do.” You said. Then, you raised one hand to his hair and muffled it, making all messy again. “And i prefer your hair in its normal rebel condition.”
He smiled as you walked towards the aquarium that you two had visited multiple times before. The place of your first kiss, the first holding hands, the first date…
But when you got near the fish tank, he asks you to stop and close your eyes, so that’s what you do.
Five minutes later, he comes back to your side and smiles, “You can open it now.”
And when you opened… well, all the fish in the tank were in a formation that said ‘Prom?’, and your smile instantly brightened. The boy next to you had the biggest smile ever seen on earth’s surface, and it was the cutest thing ever.
“Of course i’ll go to prom with you, dumbass.” You said, pulling him down by his collar and giving him a very passionate kiss.
⛧° Leo Valdez
He just let life tell him the right moment.
Literally, he couldn’t care less to whether you both were going to the prom or not. He just wanted to make you happy as always.
So when he discovered that you indeed wanted to go to prom, he made his life’s most important work until this day: a metal rose that, when you pressed a button to the side, opened to a message of ‘Do you wanna go to prom with me?’ that he knew you’d like.
He made it and triple checked it, just to be sure it’d work. It did work, but he couldn’t keep the thought that probably something was gonna be ruined with his bad luck.
So, one day, he was in bunker nine, covered in grease and soot, his hair messy and a little oiled up. He had just finished the rose-mission and was getting his stuff together before leaving to cabin nine so he could take a shower and change into clean clothes.
That’s until you ruined his plans and came in unexpectedly.
“Leo?” You asked, getting inside the hot bunker. Lots of projects were in the table, on the walls and even on the floor. Lots of weird materials that you didn’t quite know the name to were spread all over the place. It was actually cute.
“Mi amor, is it you?” He asked, leaving the shadows to a very smiley, pretty and happy you. He thanked the gods that he had taken the rose out of his work table before you got there.
“Yeah, it is. Whatcha doing?” You asked, sitting down in a pouf that you told him to put there, moths before.
“Just, uh… some weird Leo Valdez stuff, y’know.” He said, jokingly.
When he looked back at you, the tip of his nose caught fire. You were just… ethereal. Just sat there, looking around his work, hair pulled back in a messy braid, the small little pout that you always seemed to have in your lips…
He needed to do that right now.
Right now it’s the perfect moment.
Hell, every moment is the perfect moment. As long as it’s with you.
“Hey, princesa, i made something for you. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but, uh… yeah.” He said, getting closer and crouching down in front of you.
He took the metal rose out of his pocket and handed it to you. Your face immediately turned into a bright smile, grabbing the rose from his hand and pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Aw, honey, thank you! It’s so pretty!” You said, amazed by the beauty of the metal in front of you.
“Just, hm..” He said as he pressed a button in the back of the rose.
Thanks the gods, Tyche decided to be on his side today.
It occurred just right in the way he planned. The rose opened slowly, revealing a small little message. When you read it - with difficulty from the dyslexia -, your eyes watered.
You pulled him in for a hug, not caring it he was all greasy and sweaty and dirty. “Yes! Of course i will, babe!” She said, giving kisses all over his face.
“Te quiero, princesa.” He whispered and kissed you again.
⛧° Frank Zhang
He was nervous.
His hands were all sweaty and he wasn’t sure if you were going to accept the prom invite.
Fine, you were almost dating by now. But what if you stopped liking him? What if you found someone else? What if you hated him? What if-
Well, he was overthinking. A lot. And he just wished everything would go smoothly, and definitely not wrong. Nope. Anything is gonna go wrong here, folks.
You’re going to a little date dinner in the evening, you’ll can’t about your days and, in the end, he’ll ask you to be his prom date. Everything will be completely okay.
And at the beginning it really was. He got himself to calm down and was relatively fine, compared to earlier, and you just talked together at the beach, talking about your days.
The whole problem began when you mentioned the subject ‘prom’.
Oh, look at his hands getting all sweaty again.
He’s kind of scared, but he forces himself to ask you the question anyways.
“Hey, y/n, i was w-wondering if… if you-“ Before he got to finish, the boy got so nervous he transformed himself into a dog.
Why a dog, you ask? Because he remembered one day that you mentioned to him that dogs were your favorite animal on the world.
And he never forgets anything that you tell him about yourself.
But he got so, so embarrassed, thinking that he had ruined every chance that he had with you.
Little did he knew you just fell in love even more.
When he shifted back into his human form, you were still giggling, and he was super embarrassed about the situation.
“I’m sorry, i… i kinda shift when i got nervous..” He mumbled under his breath, looking at his hands.
You chuckled a little more and pulled him to you, giving him a kiss to the cheek. “It’s okay. Now, what were you gonna ask me?”
“Uh… do you… do you wanna go to prom with me?” He asked the question, and your smile just brightened. You kissed him in the lips now and felt him melting onto your lips.
“Of course, big guy.”
a/n: i kinda liked it???? like what. oh, thank you SO MUCH ALL OF YOU CAUSE I REACHED TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY LIKES LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? LIKE, I MADE MY DIRST POST THREE DAYS AGO, TOPS!! Im just so proud and thankful, i love you all! my 24 besties 😭😭
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enhastolemyheart · 3 months
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enha + boyfriend moments ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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pairing non idol!enha x fem!reader warnings none genre fluff est. relationship nets @k-films @kflixnet
a/n I wanted to try something different this time. sorry i went mia for so long :(( i decided to do something for all of enha boys and i hope u enjoy!! also i totally forgot abt jungwon's allergies while writing his part so less jus pretend he is not allergic to cats :((
banners by @cafekitsune
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LEE HEESEUNG ツ
i feel like heeseung would always and i mean ALWAYS trap you between himself and whatever other object is there near you. I honestly feel he loves to see you flustered and ears all burning red just from a mere touch as he very smoothly traps you between his arms, nowhere to escape. like, the look on your face is such a ego booster and this little "moment" has to happen at least once a day. It is just a heeseung coded move and it gets you worked up every single time.
"hee, I just had to go get groceries real quick, can you let me go?" You try to excuse yourself from his hold as you were trapped between the counter and his arms. "no baby," he bends to meet your eye level, "you left without giving me a kiss." he moves in so close you think you'll combust. "cmon baby, make it up to me."
more under the cut!
PARK JONGSEONG ツ
we all know Jay's love language is acts of service and maybe even gift giving. cmon, its obvious that jay is the kind of person to always buckle your seatbelt for you, open any kind of door for you, cook meals that remind you of your culture and hometown, likee he is literally the sweetest boyfriend ever. he's perfect. he is also the type to always have a belonging of your in his bag whenever you both are outside. like that is so jay coded.
your day started with a quick breakfast at a cafe, and then your extravaganza at the amusement park. You and jay went through it all, the amazing food, the thrilling rides. he even held your hand the whole through the roller coaster to help you conquer your fear. he was there every step of the way and you both had so much fun. the sun had started setting and so you both get seated at a highly reviewed restaurant in the park for dinner. Just as the food came, you wanted to tie your hair up, feeling scorching due the humid air and all that walking you did. noticing you were having trouble finding your tie, Jay casually puts his wrist closer to you where a hair tie was sitting. "here, i kept an extra."
SIM JAEYUN ツ
jake is definitely the type of boyfriend to take you out on night drives. windows rolled down, music blasting in the air, one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with yours. you couldn't have spent your night with jake in any other way. he loves you with all his heart and i feel like one way of showing it is through songs, so what's better than listening to playlist he made for when he thought of you, while riding around the city at its most quiet hour?
"baby, i just added some new songs to the playlist." he confesses, giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before bringing it back onto your lap. "yeah? lemme hear it jakey." he giggles as he presses play "i love you, my girl." he looks at you the whole time you were listening, together on a blanket as you indulge the beautiful night sky.
PARK SUNGHOON ツ
one thing that sunghoon loves but doesn't want to admit is waking up in your arms. quite literally, he loves falling asleep on your chest with your hand massaging his back and hair. ugh, he'd just melt to sleep then and there itself. don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves seeing you under his arms first thing in the morning. but, something about being in your embrace where he can be vulnerable and himself is just far much better. he absolutely love your sweet and hoarse voice as you greet him a good morning and then proceed to pepper his precious face with kisses to start of the day right. he feel so much better with you and your presence.
the little kisses being left on the top of sunghoon's hair wakes him up. he looks up at you from his place, hair all strewn, arms wrapped around your midriff while head tucked inside the crook of your neck. you giggle softly at his sleepy smile before running a hand through his hair, "good morning, sleeping beauty." he huff as you see the evident pink on his cheeks. "good morning" comes out muffles due to how close his mouth is to your skin, placing gentle kisses and squeezing your waist. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, giving you a full, sweet good morning kiss and murmuring that he wants to stay five more minutes in bed.
KIM SUNOO ツ
this is such a sunoo coded thing. but, he absolutely LOVES doing masks and manicures with you. like, imagine just sitting on your bed, face masks on and gossiping about anything and everything while painting each others' nails. sunoo is the type of boyfriend in whom you'll find a best friend. like, he is always the first you would go to share news and stuff and vice versa.
"and so because of niki, we got the rest of the day off!" sunoo exclaimed finishing the mini story of a recently occurred event. you couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the story. minutes pass, and now he is painting your nails this time, both of you rocking a baby pink color. you both end up binging 2000s rom-coms before dozing off sleeping soundly in each others' arms.
YANG JUNGWON ツ
ugh. jungwon is such a soft boyfie. he is always by your side helping/accompanying you to anything and everything. jungwon is very kind and caring and takes care with so much love, he loves you more than himself. he is the type to always greet you with warm hugs and cheek kisses. hand holding when going on a stroll outside no matter the time of day. he is also very BIG on words of affirmation. he is always telling he loves you and he makes sure you know.
"omg! won, look!" you point at the stray cat that was situated under a tree near the trail of the pretty park you both are at. he looks at it with wide eyes before slowly moving towards the cat, wanting to greet it. once the ginger cat understands that you both mean no harm, it starts to get close with jungwon rubbing up against his leg. "it is so cute won, it looks just like you!" you exclaim resulting in a chuckle from your boyfriend. he slowly picks up the cat, bringing its face close to his before turning to you. "see baby, you can't tell the difference between me and the cat, can you?" you chuckle softly kissing his cheek. you both decide to take the cat to a vet and then give it some food and shelter for the night.
NISHIMURA RIKI ツ
this kid. as much as playful he is, he is as equal in being sincere and true to himself and your relationship. he loves to tease you. i think quality time is one of his ways of loving you, so i can def see you both out on adventurous dates together. whether it be basketball dates, going to an amusement park together, spending time with each other at 4 am having ice cream, anything and everything you do, it's always filled with love and laughter that make up wonderful memories.
"come on baby, try and take it from me." niki exclaimes as yet again steals the basketball from your hold dribbling slowly towards the basket. "ugh, you and your damn long legs." you mumur. he laugh at your comment before stopping in front of you. he is so close that you know you are going to turn red soon if he doesn't back up. "here." he puts the ball in front of you, and you have to declare yourself stupid because inches before you can get the ball, he raises his arms, putting the ball way out of your hold. "riki! not fair." you out as you try and jump to get the ball. Niki simply laughs at your silly attempts. "you are so cute, you know that?" he bends to meet your eye level, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. "i love you" knowing the effect you had on him, you managed to snatch the ball before running away and yelling, "i love you too dork!" niki smirks at your escape before chasing after you.
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a/n. tysm for reading!! i hope u liked it! this was not proofread!!
perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)
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neptuneiris · 9 months
Text
detachment (02/03)
did Aemond Targaryen truly loved you?
pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader
summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.
word count: 7.9k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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hello beautiful people, finally here is the chapter you have been waiting for so long, im so happy, I hope you like it a lot❤ thank you very much for reading🥺
comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank u, you are all awesome❣
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—TWO MOONS AGO.
"I'm so sorry, my sweet girl."
"No, it's all right, mother. Do not worry."
"I know this is not what you wished for but—
"It is my wish."
You interrupt your mother with a small smile that she instantly knows is neither genuine nor convincing, to which she watches you for a few moments without saying anything, watching you intently.
She takes your hand and places the other on your right cheek to come closer and leave a sweet kiss on your left cheek that you allow to feel that love that only she transmits and comforts you.
She then pulls away from you a little without letting go and watches you with a small smile on her lips and a slight gleam in her beautiful lilac eyes.
"You know you have my full support, my love. And don't even think that I will leave you alone in all this," she assures you, "But I know you and you must not lie to me, Y/N."
You know that at this moment your gaze gives you away, as well as all the true feelings you are conveying but you still want to show your mother that you are willing to do your duty.
And it really is your relief that it is this person you are going to marry when it could have been worse.
"Mother, you must not worry about me."
"But of course I do," she tells you instantly, "You're my daughter and I love you."
"I love you too. But this marriage to Cregan Stark couldn't be better not only for me, but for the whole family," you remind her, "He is a respectful and honorable man. I know there will be much respect between us and eventually affection will be born. And we will have all the support of the North when the time comes for you to become queen."
She smiles softly again with that warmth and affection, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb, looking directly into your eyes with all that sincerity and love.
"But he's not the one you wish to marry, is he?"
So all those pent up feelings, they want to come out at that moment. And even more so because of the way she is talking to you and understands you completely.
"Even with all that your marriage to Cregan Stark offers…. it's not him."
You swallow hard and press your lips together, starting to feel the tears want to come out of your eyes, as well as all that feeling for everything that happened and thinking about everything that could have been.
You remember how a while ago everything was fine, how everything seemed fine, how you thought you knew certain things and knew certain people.
However, he broke your heart.
Worst of all, you never knew why. You really wanted to know what had happened, what had changed his mind and if you had done something wrong, but… nothing.
He left you totally in the dark with his reasons. He preferred you to suffer and forget everything as if nothing had happened from one day to the next to accept his sudden betrothal to Floris Baratheon.
And you truly wanted to understand at the time, feeling completely broken and shattered… but he never gave you an answer.
"It doesn't matter anymore, mother. He is betrothed and now so am I. I do not doubt that after my wedding with lord Stark, his with lady Baratheon will happen soon after. He made his decision moons ago and now so have I."
"Very well," she nods at you, "You learned quickly, my sweet girl. Just as I had to when I accepted my fate."
You smile.
"You mean my father?"
"Our story was in short times, always with a lot of duty involved and inconveniences. Until we could finally be together after that horrible night," she tells you softly, "But when you truly love a person, you can't help it and you just want to join your blood with them, no matter what."
You nod, lowering your gaze, understanding.
But really understanding.
You know that feeling and you know exactly who you used to feel that way with. You were even close to being able to bond forever. But now… you're about to do your duty without that person.
"Then, my sweet girl…" your mother says to you, getting your attention again, "I'll just make sure to arrive at King's Landing a day before the wedding, as you asked. Everything will be ready by the time we get there."
You smile softly in her direction, feeling very relieved at that and nod.
"Thank you, mother."
"Anything for you, my love."
After spending part of your afternoon with your mother, you head to another of the great rooms of the Dragonstone castle, where your brothers are practicing High Valyrian and your younger brothers are being cared for by the maids.
You immediately join in caring for your brothers, listening to Jace and Luke's Valyrian, correcting them on some pronunciations and helping them to formulate words correctly.
Then Rhaena enters the room as well to look after and keep little Joffrey company, letting you know that Baela has flown to Driftmark.
Normally as the night draws in, your mother and father also spend time in this Room, all together as a family, a time when Rhaenyra wishes she could freeze and stay all together like this forever.
And that's exactly what she thinks when she enters the Room and sees all her children, or almost all of them, together attending to different duties, with a little smile and loving look on her face.
Daemon is writing something on the large table, to which she turns to him, stroking her barely noticeable two-moon belly, with a new member to the family coming into the world soon, the prince or princess.
"What are you writing, my love?"
Daemon raises his gaze to her, with the seal of House Targaryen about to embed it in the letter.
"The word to Kings Landing with the news of Y/N's marriage to Lord Stark."
"Ah yes, I forgot to do that."
"And that's why I do it for you, ābrazȳrys."
Rhaenyra leaves a soft and loving kiss on her husband's head to continue on her way to her eldest sons, listening attentively to the High Valyrian, just like Y/N, ready to correct them.
Not long after, considering that the distance between Dragonstone and Kings Landing is not too much, the raven arrives at the Red Keep with the new and unexpected news, with Queen Alicent and her father Otto Hightower reading the message.
The Heir, Princess Rhaenyra returns to King's Landing in less than two moons with her prince consort Prince Daemon and her entire family to celebrate the wedding of Princess Y/N Velaryon to Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell.
"This is vile and disgusting news."
"Father—
"With Lord Cregan Stark?" inquires Otto, "Do you know what this means, Alicent?"
"It can't be that bad, still Daeron's wedding to Lady Lannister adds soldiers and ships to us for Aegon's claim. So does Aemond's wedding to lady Baratheon."
"Rhaenyra will have the whole North on her side by the time the time comes and you know it. The whole fucking North fighting for her and her bastard daughter!" Otto exclaims in annoyance, "We can't let that wedding happen."
"Rhaenyra must already be getting everything ready at Dragonstone. And to try to stop her the wedding, she could easily marry Y/N to Lord Stark somewhere else," says the queen, "It will be useless."
"Call the Maester. Call the entire Council, immediately," Otto quickly orders one of his guards, annoyed and desperate.
The guard immediately complies with the Hand's order, so that very soon all the members enter and take their respective seats in the Council Chamber.
But not long after, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen also decide to burst into the room, Aemond mostly noticing that something is wrong and Aegon simply following, his grandsire surprised to see him in his five senses.
"What's the matter?" asks Aemond serious, approaching his mother.
But before his own mother can answer him, his grandsire does, only without answering him.
"Your wedding to Lady Baratheon will happen by the end of this month."
Aemond immediately observes his grandsire without any expression, hiding his surprise well, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room.
"We will send word to Storm's End's, Lady Floris should already be here by in less than five days and prepare everything immediately," Otto continues, "Not too soon after, we will send a raven to Oldtown and Prince Daeron's wedding to Lady Cerelle will also happen."
"May I ask, my Lord Hand, why so hurriedly?" asks lord Lannister.
"Yes, why?" inquires Aemond of his grandsire as well, with a tone of voice and a menacingly serious look.
But Otto Hightower deliberately ignores his grandson.
"Are you not pleased with the news, Lord Jason?" he inquires condecently, "After all, it is your daughter who is to marry a prince of the realm, my grandson."
"Not that I am complaining, my Lord, in fact I have been waiting to hear this news ever since we agreed to join our houses. But I was also hoping, just like my daughter, that the wedding would be relevant and not too attached to another wedding also of another prince of the realm. It certainly would not draw the attention of our people."
"This is not about getting people's attention, nor how attractive the union is, Lord Jason," Otto tells him seriously and clearly annoyed, "You should feel grateful that the union is going to happen, because I remind you that this is about Prince Aegon's claim to the Throne, or have you already forgotten?"
"I asked you a question and I'm not going to repeat myself," Aemond speaks again in his grandsire's direction, serious.
This immediately gets everyone's attention, but in the end it is Queen Alicent who responds in a soft, cautious voice.
"Y/N is going to be married."
This immediately gets Aemond's attention and also Aegon behind him, who was disinterested and even annoyed to hear his grandsire's words about his claim to the Iron Throne.
But this definitely gets his attention, he even watches his brother cautiously, waiting for his reaction, just like his mother.
However, Aemond keeps his usual neutral and at the same time serious face, hiding his true emotions very well, starting to feel how those true emotions run through his whole body and want to explode.
Otto watches him attentively, annoyed and serious, instantly knowing very well what he must be feeling. And that is what he, Otto Hightower, does not want.
"Yes, Aemond, with Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell," he tells him seriously, "You too have already forgotten why you are marrying Lady Baratheon precisely?"
Aemond clenches his jaw, immediately this getting his attention and watching his grandsire with a deadly and threatening look, all this together with his posture showing that he is losing his patience.
And that everyone notices.
"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him, rising from his seat.
"When?"
Aemond's voice interrupts him, in the direction of his grandsire, his whole posture tense and his hands made into fists, his jaw clenched and his gaze like that of a dragon about to burn everything to the ground.
"I told you, by the end of this month your wedding—
"No, when will Y/N's wedding to Cregan Stark be."
He interrupts her in a firm, menacingly serious voice.
"It doesn't matter when it will be," Otto tells him in annoyance, raising his voice higher, drawing everyone's attention, demanding, "What matters right now is that these two weddings happen before the wedding of Rhaenyra's daughter to Lord Stark so as to invite all the great houses, even Cregan Stark and form alliances before Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon."
"In two moons, approximately."
Alicent replies to Aemond, noting how his anger grows more and more as his grandsire speaks, not giving him an answer.
"That's what they said on the raven they sent this afternoon from Dragonstone."
Aemond lowers his gaze, beginning to think about it, about how the wedding will take place here, at King's Landing, where he will have to be present and witness it all…to Y/N, his Y/N, getting married to Lord Cregan Stark.
Lord Cregan fucking Stark.
"I doubt we can do anything about it, my Lord," Jasper Wylde speaks, "The wedding is already a done deal, we will not succeed in convincing Lord Stark to change his allegiance."
"And this is a great advantage for Princess Rhaenyra and her claim," says Jason Lannister, " Her daughter, Princess Y/N and Lord Stark together is an excellent and convenient match."
At the words of some of the council members, Aemond can't help but feel downright sick, thinking of Y/N and Lord Stark.
As you should.
His own mind tells him, feeling the fire and anger coursing through his veins, unable to control himself, thinking about what is really going on here.
"We will do whatever it takes to still have as much support as possible. King Viserys will not last long and by now we would have to secure all possible alliances for when the time comes. If war falls upon us and if we pull this off… fighting Rhaenyra and her alliances won't be so hard."
"She will have the entire North fighting for her, my Lord."
One of the members tells him cautiously, thinking about the number of soldiers Princess Rhaenyra will have at her disposal, also all the people supporting her claim, that adding up to the whole Valley.
"That's why we need to be more clever," Otto Hightower insists, "My grandchildren's weddings will be paramount in this. We need to send a raven to Oldtown, now," he turns to the Maester, "I need Daeron here at King's Landing and your daughter as well, Lord Jason. After Aemond's wedding, he—
"No."
Aemond Targaryen completely interrupts his grandsire in front of the Queen and the entire Council, drawing everyone's attention, surprised by his boldness and deadly behavior in the direction of his grandsire, who also gives him a threatening look.
"You had plenty of time to plan my wedding with Lord Borros' daughter. It's not my fault that until now you are acting when your job as the Hand is to act since you knew the threats," he tells her seriously and completely firm with his words, "If you want a wedding, plan Daeron's, not mine. I will not be a part of your incompetence when I have already given you too much."
"You are forgetting your place, Aemond," Otto warns him in a careful tone and one in which he fully tells him that he does not want to contradict him now.
But Aemond has had enough.
"You are forgetting your place," he replies in kind.
"Aemond, that's enough," his mother calls to him instantly, letting out a long breath, "You don't want to get married now, that's fine. But don't forget that eventually you will have to," she reminds him earnestly, "After all, Lady Baratheon is still your betrothed and she along with Lord Borros expect the wedding to take place soon."
Again Aemond feels sick to his stomach as he listens to his mother's words, thinking of his betrothed, Lady Floris Baratheon. The very thought of marrying her makes him feel unhappy.
But it is the truth… she is still his betrothed and whether he wishes it or not, he will eventually have to marry her, because his family swore an oath with hers, not him, but his family.
And he has to live up to the weight of that oath.
"We should continue to discuss the marriage of Princess Y/N to Lord Stark, my Queen," says the Maester.
"There is nothing more to discuss, the chances are slim with Lord Stark and we will have to focus on bringing the marriage of my son and Lady Cerelle to the attention of the great houses."
Queen Alicent begins to lead the entire Council, as Otto Hightower continues to watch Aemond with daggers in his eyes, serious, furious and incredulous at his behavior.
He thought he already had everything under control, but Otto forgot that he is not a dragon and the blood of the dragon in anyone who possesses it, especially in Aemond, is chaotic and reckless.
"Congratulations, brother."
Aegon catches Aemond's eye, watching him over his shoulder as he gives him a friendly clap on the back, almost whispering his words.
"You said you hoped our sweet niece would soon outgrow you? Well, now she's marrying the lord of all Winterfell," he says with a small smile, "She's definitely outgrown you."
And with nothing more to say, Aegon leaves the Council Chamber, not interested in the matters of the realm, much less to plan a fucking wedding and have his grandsire take it upon himself to form alliances for his claim to the Throne, as if he cares about such a thing.
As Aemond stands still for a few seconds, watching him go, his words repeating over and over in his mind, anger again coursing through his body, fire, hatred.
He wishes he could prove his brother right, but the truth is that he is very wrong.
Unable to stand it any longer, he quickly heads out of the room as well, not wanting nor caring at all to discuss these matters, this room really displeasing him by bringing back bad memories.
And as soon as he faces the corridors of the Keep, again Aemond remains static for a few moments and his mind again thinking about things he really doesn't want to think about.
But he can't help it.
Like that time he also rushed out of this room, leaving the woman he loves behind, tearing her apart in the worst possible way and pretending not to care.
Even as one of the fiercest and most brutal knights of his time, Prince Aemond doesn't know where he found the courage and strength to break Y/N's heart… his Y/N.
He has always characterized himself as an honorable and respectful man, especially to Y/N, but what he did to her… was out of his nature and highly unpleasant.
And once he was in the safety of his chamber, the first thing he did was sit in one of his chairs near his fireplace, wanting to feel the fire, with the realization slowly starting to become clearer to him, realizing what he had done.
Aemond remembers the last time he cried, it was when he was a little boy in one of his episodes over his lost eye.
A terrible migraine kept him awake for a whole day, he couldn't even get out of bed and couldn't bear to see the light of day. His mother held him tight and was there for him all the time, not even leaving him alone for a second.
Alicent tried and ordered everything to make him feel better, but the Maesters couldn't do much and all he could do, all he learned to do since he was a little boy, was to have to endure the pain.
And since then, the first tear falls down his right cheek.
Aemond, upset, angry and disgusted with himself, cries. And he actually allows himself to cry as he remembers his Y/N's precious face completely shattered and red from her crying, her whole look confused and in need of explanations.
And he couldn't even give her that, an explanation.
And the worst part was that they already had it all. It was all said and done, they were going to be husband and wife finally, as they had asked for so much.
But he finally snatched away her illusion and simply left her without explanations. And that's what makes him lose control completely.
Furious, feeling like a coward, an idiot and annoyed with himself, he lets out a growl and starts breaking everything in his room, with despair and anger in his body.
He screams and blames himself for that weight on his shoulders, a weight that does not belong to him, a weight that he had nothing to do with from the beginning and a weight that he had to let go of the woman he loves when he almost had her because of his family's ambition.
That night the servants had to silently clean the room of Prince Aemond, who, unable to bear it any longer, went for a ride in Vhagar, wanting to forget everything and everyone.
And now, in the present, him in the middle of the hall with the thought of Y/N marrying Lord Stark soon… it's too much.
And he knows it's the same feeling she must have felt when he broke her heart.
He couldn't agree more that he deserves it, but he didn't want to let her go either. Nothing he did was really his choice, but that was the right decision.
And now…he still has to face the consequences of his own actions: Y/N's marriage to a man who will not be him.
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"There you have it, my princess."
"Thank you, Emelly," you smile at one of your maids, who leaves you a tray with your almost every night tea so you can fall asleep, "You can rest now."
" You don't need anything else, princess?"
"No, I'm good, thank you. See you in the morrow."
"Of course, princess. Get some rest."
The maid leaves your room, who looking at you in your mirror you continue brushing your straight, silver hair, preparing for sleep.
You've already gone to your siblings' and Rhaena's rooms, especially the little ones', to wish them good night.
Your mother and father have also already come to speak with you and have your usual conversations of the night, where they talk about your wedding to Lord Cregan more than anything else, Daemon and Rhaenyra making sure nothing else haunts your mind.
They know that a wedding can cause too much stress, especially when you're marrying the one you didn't expect from the start, talking about duty and what's expected next from you and your husband.
Your older brother Jace had told you it's a stressful but very necessary conversation, considering the next wedding in the family will be his and Baela's.
You let out a long breath, leave your brush on your dressing table and head off to drink your tea, needing to sleep.
You take the cup from the tray in your hands when the napkin catches your attention. You frown and notice how there is something sticking out from under that napkin, hidden but wanting to be seen specifically by you.
You set the cup down on the table and pick up the napkin, curious and wary, realizing that it is the small envelope of a letter, definitely catching your attention more than before.
You analyze it and there is no indication of who the message might be from. So you decide to open it, finding a small sentence and an addressee that makes your heart jump in your chest and your lips parted.
Meet me at our place by the Hour of the Wolf. I need to explain everything to you, please. I will be waiting.
A.T.
Your pulse starts to race, your whole body starts to shake and you read the message over and over again, your system making you feel more emotions and feelings as you read who has sent this to you.
You think to yourself that this must be a joke or even perhaps some kind of trap, thinking that this can't be. But you know it's him.
It's his handwriting, you would recognize it on any piece of paper, as well as the signature he always uses in all his messages, short and subtle.
Now you understand why so much mystery. But you honestly don't understand how he could have gotten his message to you. It's practically impossible.
Unless he hired or paid irrelevant people, because Emelly is extremely loyal to you and would not have done this considering your history with your uncle, as well as anyone else knows it.
Your uncle who right now must be waiting for you.
Your mind tells you as you look at his message in front of you, surprised with your parted lips, with a feeling starting to invade your chest that you don't know exactly what it is but… it causes you some emotion.
And you can't. You truly can't do this.
You remember everything that happened, what he did to you, what his grandsire did to you too, and how broken you felt, how he broke your heart and left you without explanation, only to become betrothed to Floris Baratheon.
You swallow hard, walking to your huge windows, looking out at the night outside and barely lit by the fire torches that light a little of the roads around Dragonstone, looking out beyond the sea, in the direction where that island is and where you and Aemond used to meet.
You press your lips together, feeling a sharp pain in your chest, as well as that uncertainty and beginning to take into consideration what he has written to you on that little piece of paper.
But again… you can't.
You are both betrothed. You are betrothed to Lord Cregan Stark, you will marry him soon and then… probably he will marry Lady Floris Baratheon as well.
You know you shouldn't even consider it, you know you shouldn't feel that curiosity and longing, because he doesn't deserve it.
That's why you make your decision just as he made his moons ago.
Even though you admit that it hurts and even costs you, you still think of yourself, because he doesn't deserve you to feel this way about him, not after all the damage caused.
You don't know what Aemond really thinks, but it certainly isn't entirely wise to ask you to meet in the hour of the Wolf as if nothing had happened.
And what a coincidence that he does this just when your wedding is in a few more weeks.
You stare out over the sea for a few more moments, thinking, but having already made up your mind. You let out a long breath and without hesitation, you head to your fireplace and throw his message into the fire.
Then you head back to your table to drink your tea and drink it all down so you can finally sleep and forget this ever happened.
While on the small island in Blackwater Bay, Aemond Targaryen keeps Vhagar close by, watching as he sits on a huge rock on the sand of the beach towards the direction of Dragonstone, waiting for you.
He doesn't really find much to entertain himself with, beginning to feel anxious with each passing minute and still not seeing any dragons approaching in the night sky, getting up and pacing back and forth, letting out long breaths and trying to calm himself.
He would be a fool not to have thought that maybe you would ignore him and not even in your greatest madness, the other side of the Targaryen coin, would you agree to meet him after all that happened.
Of course he had thought about it. But he still decided to risk it.
But the minutes pass and pass, with Aemond waiting for you, disappointment and reality coming at him like a strong wave every moment he is still there alone on the island.
He feels frustration beginning to course through his body, also anger but not for you, but for himself.
He thinks of your soon marriage to him, Lord Stark and feels more despair coursing through him, not even bearing the thought.
He asks the Seven to you please show up, really wanting to explain himself.
But he knows it is too late. He was never going to get this chance, because he really hurt you too much and he knows it, he knows it and he has the memory more vivid than ever.
But even though he knew it, he can't help but be disappointed as he continues to wait for a dragon in the night sky that never came.
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—PRESENT
The days go by too fast after the conversation with your mother and after so many preparations and requests for the wedding.
When the wedding day finally arrives.
Your mother overlooks her pregnancy, considering she is barely four moons pregnant, to ride Syrax and take her with her to King's Landing while you ride Silverwing so you both arrive in the capital a day before the wedding, as you wished.
You try to suppress all feelings along with the nerves of returning to the Red Keep, where there are many buried memories and people from the past. However, you are here for your wedding.
You know that this visit is brief just to get the wedding over with and nothing more, then your family will return to Dragonstone or probably your mother will decide to stay again to take care of your grandsire, while you will go to Winterfell.
You really want to know the North. It was one of the few conversations you had with Lord Stark and he agreed, as well as both of you being present at Court after spending married moons.
And you really have no intention of anything else happening and just let it happen as it should. And just before the sun sets, you and your mother arrive at King's Landing.
You meet your father, your brothers, sisters, also your grandmother Rhaenys and your grandsire Corlys, even also Queen Alicent welcomes you both back and also gives you her congratulations for your wedding.
If you didn't know her, you wouldn't know that her smile is fake. Clearly Alicent didn't want you to marry her son but neither did she want you to marry a person as influential as Lord Stark. But honestly you don't care.
She is the one who directs you and your mother to the king's chambers, to whom your mother wishes to speak and also in case she wants to dedicate a few words to you for your wedding.
On your way back to your room you meet your aunt, sweet Helaena, who welcomes your mother with a charming look and smile, also you, congratulating you on your wedding.
Fortunately you don't meet any other relevant people, just as you didn't see him or his betrothed anywhere, which you are thankful for.
Because the sooner this could happen, without distractions and unexpected inconveniences, the better.
The only thing you remember about that night when you arrived at King's Landing is that you had to drink a large and considerable amount of your tea in order to sleep, not being able to fall asleep because you were thinking about tomorrow.
And honestly also for thinking a little about him.
You were afraid that he would suddenly enter your chamber through the secret door, because surely he hasn't forgotten his request to meet you on the island to explain everything and you never showed up, but fortunately that didn't happen.
And when you least expect it, you are already at the celebration feast with all the guests present, you looking like a bride, waiting for your betrothed, everything going according to your mother's plan.
The common thing in a wedding is to get married at the Septon and then move on to the feast, but in this case, your mother chose the other way around, just like her wedding to your father, Sr. Laenor.
You learned that Alicent had questioned this, but your mother didn't care much, just reminded her that this was how her wedding had once been and that this way, you would feel less overwhelmed, knowing you perfectly well.
When it all begins.
They have already announced the king, also all your family, only the Hightower-Targaryen and also your betrothed are missing.
Your grandsire is seated at the large table next to his wife on the right side, while your mother is seated on his left side, followed by your place and then your betrothed's place. Your father takes a seat at the head of the table on the left side along with your brothers and sisters.
All the lord's and lady's present are spread throughout the Throne Room, as the food will soon be served and the musicians are already in position to begin at any moment.
Your mother at your side holds your hand to give you her support and her soft, sweet smiles in your direction to help with your nerves. Although she also makes sure that your entire appearance is intact.
It was always Rhaenyra's wish that her daughter, her first daughter, would have a wedding like hers was.
She would also prefer a Valyrian wedding, in fact that was her illusion when the king gave his blessing for the wedding between Y/N and Aemond.
But now, things are different and considering that Lord Stark is not Targaryen, clearly, a Westerosi wedding was the best option. And you did not complain at all.
In fact, it filled you with excitement and affection that when your father and grandfather saw you entering the Room, with your appearance for the occasion, they instantly told you that you wore them many years ago, when they were also in this same place and your mother married your father, Laenor.
A white dress with shoulder-length sleeves draws attention with golden details and some chains adorn around your waist with dragon figures.
Your hair falls in elegant waves, reaching above your waist, with some very subtle braids adorning the top of your head.
Your mother wanted some golden pins to be placed between your hair, also jewelry such as gold necklaces, rings and bracelets, to look more and properly like a Targaryen princess.
When at that moment, they announce the missing people at the big table. The people or rather the person you most expected and never wanted to arrive at the same time.
"Prince Aegon Targaryen, first born son of King Viserys Targaryen with his lady wife, Princess Helaena Targaryen."
The doors directly in front of you allow you to see the entrance of your uncle and sweet aunt who together make their way over to you to take a seat beside Queen Alicent.
Aegon's appearance is appropriate, however, due to all the rumors that keep spreading to Dragonstone, his condition is far from the best for a prince of the realm. His tired face with large bags under his eyes and his clear boredom and disinterest in being here is clear.
However, after all he seems to be willing to drink wine and enjoy himself.
But your sweet aunt by his side completely overshadows him once the view is on her and her beautiful sky blue dress with light silver tones and all her bright and sweet look that characterizes her so much.
When they announce the next people and you try not to make a big deal of it once Aegon and Helaena take their seats.
"Prince Aemond Targaryen, second son of King Viserys and Prince Daeron Targaryen, the third and final son of the king."
So both of them, he, now enter the Throne Room and you avoid looking too much, as well as feeling too much.
You try to distract yourself with the fact that you hadn't seen Daeron in a very long time, nor had anyone else, not even your mother or father. You thought he would still be in Oldtown because he wasn't even here for Helaena and Aegon's wedding.
Maybe he really wanted to fly here, but he was not allowed to, maybe because of his age, knowing that Queen Alicent does not like dragons and is very overprotective in that aspect.
But now that you are looking at him, he is tall, very tall. Not as tall as he is, but for his age, he's definitely growing into a man. But even though you want to focus on Daeron, you don't as you focus on him, inevitably.
His walk hasn't changed, neither has that determination, that confidence and that kind of power he possesses just by looking at him, also that fear and respect at the same time.
And his appearance… hasn't changed either.
Maybe his continuous training has made him look a bit stockier of his arms and his body in general, but his hair, his face and his eye patch is the same.
But he gives you the impression that he's even more handsome.
You look away from him in an instant, as everything that happened comes back to you in a matter of seconds, which is inappropriate. But all you can think about is him.
His hugs, kisses, caresses… all those words of love, all those wishes and all those promises… all only to end in an unexplained broken heart. You swore that he and you were destined to burn together. You swore that you would marry in the tradition of your house.
You swore it would be him and you.
But he made his decision.
And now here you are. He's betrothed and so are you, where by the end of the day you'll be married.
You completely avoid looking at his face once he starts to walk up the steps to take a seat next to his brothers, just like Daeron. You don't feel his gaze at any moment, just as you don't dare to look at him either.
When you ask yourself; where is his betrothed?
She must be here for such celebrations if they are betrothed. And you are sure that Floris Baratheon would not want to miss such an important celebration at the Red Keep.
However, he is all alone and his betrothed seems to be nowhere to be found. Doubt lingers but the feast gives you something new to think about when they announce your betrothed.
"Cregan Stark, lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, the future lord husband of the bride, Y/N Velaryon."
At that moment, everyone at the table rises to greet your betrothed who walks towards you with a kind and respectful smile, looking very well for all this celebration. Or at least most of the people at the table stand up….
You can notice out of the corner of your eye how on Queen Alicent's side some people are still seated, but you don't dare look at them, though you get an idea of who they might be.
Still you focus on your betrothed who bows to the king once he arrives at the table and then makes his way to you to take a seat next to you.
Not before taking your mother's hand to plant a gentle kiss on the back of it, which she accepts with a kind and sweet smile and then turns to you and does the same with more affection.
You smile in his direction as you return his gesture by placing a soft kiss on his cheek and then both of you take a seat, as well as everyone else. When your grandsire, the king, gives a short speech before the feast begins.
And once everything has been said, the feast begins. The music starts and the food is served.
You feel his gaze for a few seconds, not long enough, but you don't notice him at all and continue to enjoy the feast. You talk to your mother from time to time and also to your betrothed, that is if your father and Jace are not talking to him asking him about Winterfell and the Wall.
Your sisters also ask you from time to time if you are feeling well and you can only nod, telling yourself that this is really happening and you have to completely ignore his presence.
When the time comes for the opening of the dance.
Cregan rises from his seat first and offers you his hand to lead you to the center of the Room, which you gladly accept and together you walk to dance in full view of everyone, a traditional Westerosi dance.
It is a simple dance, nothing difficult and you really enjoy it, while you focus your gaze at all times on him, Lord Cregan, who also smiles softly in your direction and does perfectly the right steps, all under the watchful eye of all the nobles present and also of your family.
Both of you stand back to back, and then both of you slowly raise your arms to shoulder height, while you can't help it and turn your gaze towards him, already feeling since the dance started his burning gaze.
Aemond has a meaningful look on his face when your gaze meets his, acting nonchalant, watching you intently, raising his wine glass to his lips.
You can only smile really ungracefully and turn your gaze to the front, continuing to dance and focusing only on your betrothed.
While Aemond at all times… wants this to be over and done with. Though I'd prefer to think this isn't really happening.
He feels like an alluring force, as he can't take his eye off of you, looking at you so beautiful in that dress, knowing in an instant that this is not the dress you would have worn for their wedding. But you still look really beautiful.
A true Targaryen beauty.
A warm feeling envelops him every second he sees you there, so perfect, dancing, smiling and catching everyone's attention, his especially at your every move, not realizing that his face gets softer every second as he watches you.
However… everything is replaced by hatred and anger when those smiles are directed at Lord Stark. And by the way he looks at you too… he wants to burn everything to the ground, clenching his hands into fists.
"Easy, little brother."
Aegon murmurs behind him, over his shoulder, amused, his breath smelling very strongly of wine.
"Everyone can sense how you're starting to wake up. You don't want to cause a fucking scene at our niece's wedding because of your jealousy, do you? Grandsire won't be too pleased."
Aemond can only feel that rage come over him more, knowing full well that Aegon has no intention of calming him down, but to provoke him further and do exactly as he has told him.
And he is succeeding.
Especially in the moment when he again focuses on you, smiling at Lord Stark, glowing and looking this beautiful but for him, Lord Stark, not for him, the one she was supposed to marry and be completely his.
And he regrets it so much, he regrets it so much that he called off their wedding and also leaving you without explanation, knowing that this is exactly what he deserves, to see you happy without him.
As the dance of just the two of them ends and a new song begins, in which he watches as Y/N, his Y/N, places one of her hands on Lord Stark's shoulder and the other intertwines with his, his other hand on her waist, this only making him angrier.
A more choreographed dance begins and the nobles in pairs also begin to join the center of the Room to dance, beginning the real celebration.
And Aemond sinking in his own misery, thinks that he could have survived watching Y/N dance with Lord Stark at an appropriate distance. But now they are both chest to chest, smiling and talking about something with all the nobles also dancing around them.
He doesn't understand that important thing that the two of them are talking about, but he doesn't like it at all, neither does the closeness. In fact he doesn't like any of it.
All he wants is to get her away from him, away from all of this and make her his, finally, no matter what.
His breathing starts to get heavier by the moment, thinking that by the time this is over, she will already be married to him and they will go away together, where they will have to consummate the marriage.
The very thought makes him only feel more enraged and more courageous to snatch her from his arms, not caring about her family and his, not caring about his grandsire and his words, not caring about his mother's words either about "you have to control yourself and think of us."
Not only does Aegon notice her state, so does his grandsire, who watches him intently and cautiously, noticing the look on Lord Stark's face more than menacing, about to do something foolish even though he was very clear with him before attending this feast.
He also catches the eye of Rhaenyra, who watches her husband and subtly points to her half-brother, instantly Daemon knowing exactly what is going on.
And how could he not know?
It reminds him of him many years ago, also watching the woman he loves, about to marry someone else who is not him.
He places a small half smile, bringing his wine glass to his lips, watching his nephew attentively and amused, almost expectantly, wondering even though Aemond has his full attention on you, if he will finally do something about it or what.
"Aemond," his grandsire mumbles to him.
But Aemond, beginning to go into his madness, doesn't watch or listen to him, watching you intently.
"Aemond, I'm warning you," his grandsire insists.
"Oh come on grandsire," Aegon tells him amused, "You know it will be useless. I can tell you don't know him."
And even though Aemond is immersed in his madness, he still thinks and remembers the words of his grandsire and mother.
"I will overlook that it was you who prevented the raven to Storms Ends from arriving when you knew perfectly well that your betrothed should have been here days ago."
His mother tells him seriously and annoyed.
"Now you will attend this wedding alone and I expect you to behave yourself. Just as I expect you to come to terms with the idea that you will marry Lady Baratheon by the end of next month, without protest."
"And you are not going to commit any of your foolishness at the Y/N wedding, do you understand me?" Otto immediately threatens him, "You're not going to talk to Y/N, you're not going to threaten Lord Stark either, and you're going to let the wedding happen in peace, is that clear? "
Aemond feels a bitter feeling, continuing to watch you attentively and him watching threateningly, with the fire in his body about to explode.
"You know what your problem is, grandsire?" Aegon says to Otto Hightower, who watches him seriously and on the verge of losing his patience, "You question the blood of the dragon too much."
And in that same instant, Aemond rises from his seat in a confident movement, with his gaze firmly fixed on you, who are completely disinterested in what is happening with him, completely focused on Lord Stark.
And Aemond's movement completely catches the attention of his grandsire, his mother, also your mother and father, who in an instant look at each other, definitely remembering the past.
Aemond makes his way towards you, not caring about anything.
He doesn't care about his mother and grandsire, he doesn't care about the war that will probably befall them when his father dies, the only thing he cares about at this moment is you.
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taglist:
@iloveallmyboys @libdarkheart @angelianlearp @happinessinthebeing @targaryenmoony @tempt-ress @callsign-blue @twobluejeans @luna-salem @literatureluster @thekinslayersswordhand @queenofshinigamis @bugshideaway @minttea07 @itszzmoon
2K notes · View notes
marycorcaroli · 8 months
Text
ass or tits ? ?
nsfw with luffy, zoro, sanji and usopp.
req: mary, do u think luffy/zoro/sanji/usopp are ass or tits mans? 🧐 (for educational purposes)
mary♡: thank you for the req, honey! 🤗🎀 hope you like it ! ! 🧺🖇
♡ english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes. ♡
rules ; masterlist ! !
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luffy.
loves tits more than his life. he'll probably suck and spit on them in seconds. you can just stand there and do nothing, and he'll just come over and start sucking on your breasts. likes to play with your nipples for a long time and run his tongue over them to see how your body reacts to it. he just holds your breasts in his hand, it's comfortable for him. always cumming on your breasts and then watching his cum run down them afterward. loves titjob, your tits squeezing his cock and your innocent eyes watching and waiting for him to cum on your breasts, aww, luffy is going to get feral. he loves the moments where he just sucks on your boobs and you moan so loudly for him. will leave a heart shaped hickey around your boobs, he's so cute. if you fight, just show him your boobs and he'll forgive you for everything.
zoro.
ASS AND TITS!!! this man just can't pick one thing, he loves you all over. slaps your ass at the most random times and he's not ashamed, likes to squeeze your ass while you're bouncing on his cock. will probably cum on your ass too, and then get aroused again and fuck you. loves your breasts because they feel so good when he puts them in his mouth. rubs your nipples until you cum. leaves your whole chest in hickeys just because he couldn't stop and at the same time spanks you and watches how pathetic you become to get his cock. i don't think he only likes titjob, zoro loves it when you suck him and work your tits at the same time, he will become a submissive boy for you, just do it more often. will eat your ass in minutes and leave you so dirty along with his cum all over your body.
usopp.
my sweet boy! usopp is one of those who loves your breasts more than anything, he will get turned on just by the sight of your breasts, not even naked. will cum as soon as you lean your tits on his cock, will whimper and cry if you don't let him cum. sucking on your nipples is like a ritual for a good day. in the morning, when you wake up to a strange sensation and see usopp gently licking your nipples "don't worry sweetie, you can go back to sleep, i just want to have some fun" will leave you needy and satisfied. he's so cute, but if you piss him off usopp will turn your boobs purple because of his hickeys and slap them a couple times so you don't forget who's in control. obligatorily, he'll kiss your boobs sweetly and tell you he loves you very much.
sanji.
do i have to say something? he loves ass, any kind, big or small, he doesn't care, as long as it's to spank someone and relieve his stress. constantly squeezes your ass when you go out together and whines if you take his hand away. will rough fuck you and if you do something wrong get ready for a teaching session, he doesn't like dumb girls, sanji will put them all in their place and he doesn't care how long it takes. he's going to cum on your ass and smear it all over it and admire the beauty he's made. loves to eat your ass and bring you to overstimulation, if you cum without his permission he'll spank you and start all over again.
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stevebabey · 3 months
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uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)
finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.
(feel free to ignore!)
trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too
Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.
One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.
It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.
The thought makes you fluster a bit.
He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.
Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.
Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.
Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.
You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”
He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.
“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”
Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.
“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.
He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.
“Steve.”
“What?”
“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?
Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.
“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.
You eye him over your cup, skeptical.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”
He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.
“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”
You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.
It’s your turn to ask. “What?”
Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.
“It’s your favourite.”
“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”
“Yes, it is!”
“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”
Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.
“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”
Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.
You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.
Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.
You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.
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mitraoki · 3 months
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genshin men brainrot!
note; just something to ease my way back into writing. i truly miss it a lot - considering how much i abandoned it during my recent semester(⊙_⊙;) i hope you guys enjoy it!
cw; a little suggestive, they're just smitten for u, violence but against other people!!
masterlist.
+ wriothesley has this thing where he likes being yanked by the tie. only from his beloved, of course. someone else comes into play and he’s choking them next. the way your fingers wrapped around the fabric, twisting them around your fist, bringing him in closer till your foreheads touch, and your breathing syncopates with his. whether it's for fun, or when the two of you are left alone in his office, that little smirk is painted across his face and the next thing you know, he's smothering you with kisses.
"someone's needy. not complaining, just anticipating is all."
+ on stressful days, alhaitham forgets reality. no, it's not the kind where he forgets to eat or drink, it's the kind where he becomes a full time machine. all he does is take orders, execute them perfectly, and tend to the various other tasks piling up on his desk. for someone always assuring you that his workload isn't as concerning as you thought it was; it was fearsome to see his questionable demeanor when he meets up with you in public. though, it all comes to end when the two of you are alone - did you flip a switch in him or something? - he's wrapping his arms around your figure from behind, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and whispering continuous apologies.
"...what can i do to make it up to you?" + neuvilette loves giving you gifts. it was that one time when you'd mentioned you loved the way he crafted it from scratch, bringing his ideas to life. in a way, it's another huge step for him to understand the little things of a human's life; and you were his number one supporter. there he sits during his free time, getting ideas from some of the melusines about what he should give you next. he takes notes of your likes and dislikes very quickly, but everything has to be perfect, just for you. anything to see that smile of yours bloom time and time again.
"if one's not enough, perhaps i can get you tons more! ....no such thing, this was a piece of cake."
+ kaveh loves styling your hair. he's definitely not the kind to judge the length of your hair - he can work with anything you prefer to have. from hair clips to peonies - his skillful fingers work through your locks, getting them done in a jiffy. he makes sure to not hurt you in the process, too. sometimes he even comes home with a new collection of hair clips, claiming that 'it would definitely look good in your hair!' every single time he finishes, he makes sure to get a good look at you, admiring every facial feature of yours. it ends up making you feel flustered, but he's just so in love with you. just what did he do to have such a lover like you...?
"as beautiful as always, my love."
+ not everyday is sunshine and rainbows for ayato. there were even times where your hand would reach out for nothing but a note on your shared bed, stating that he was off to settle yet another matter which frankly, did not require him at all. it was just regulations he had to follow. though you could see the slight changes in his handwriting, indicating that he wrote them all with a heavy heart. except for the 'i love you.' he wrote that with ease, a reassurance that he will return to your arms. when he does, he swings you around, pulling you in for the biggest embrace. he peppers kisses along the bridge of your nose, lingering around your lips, trailing them down to your chin, your neck. any place he could catch a glimpse of in the moment.
"i've never cursed at time as much as i did today. i hope it treats us well tonight."
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all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.
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widowmaxff · 1 month
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Hello!! I was having some bad days recently, could u make a one-shot of moms!wandanat and reader with the reader having a bad week, and then Wanda and Natasha comforts reader? If you want to, of course!
enough for you
pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader
warnings: bad thoughts, self-deprecating reader, lots of crying, one agent who really needs to stfu - i think thats all!
a/n: tysm for the request my love! im so sorry for the delay in posting this one shot, my life has been very busy these last few months. and i dont think this one turns out the way u wanted it, because i already made one like your request but w mom!wanda but i hope u like it :3
HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!
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You always saw yourself working for SHIELD. Being able to do missions and 'save the world' was something you always wanted to do. Having mothers who are considered super heroes was also something that made you inspired by this life, but you only saw it from the outside. How they were greeted by everyone or how it seemed so easy for them to do these hero things. But when you finally got what you wanted when you turned eighteen, it wasn't what you expected.
It was the third time in the last few days that you had messed up in a mission in which you were classified. The looks the other agents gave you at the Academy made you feel horrible. You obviously hadn't messed up the missions on purpose, you would never do that. But it seemed like all those people expected that every step you took would be right, that you would never make mistakes, and that you would be as good as your mothers. Your head hurt just thinking about it. And that thought led you to others, how ashamed you felt remembering how the other agents spoke mean words to you when, again, you messed up on the mission.
You tried to distract yourself from these types of self-sabotaging thoughts about yourself by training even harder. Punching and kicking the red cylinders using all your strength, and even after hours it still felt like you didn't feel good enough, strong enough. All you wanted was to just stop thinking for at least a few seconds, and when you heard those heavy footsteps you knew that wasn't what was going to happen. "Oh, look who's here!"
You didn't care about remembering that agent's name, but you remembered exactly her voice and face, because it was her who started the whispers about how you weren't like your mothers. How you spoiled the missions of the last few days of that week, how you will never be like them. "The daughter of the great Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, even if it doesn't seem like it." You continue ignoring her presence there, massaging your fingers to continue punching the red bag. "Do they know how you failed this last week?"
She wasn't stupid to know how horrible your week had been, how the failed missions, the disturbances and all those other things were making you almost have panic attacks right there in front of everyone. "No." Your voice was low, because you knew that if you exerted the necessary strength to reach a greater height, the tears would fall without your permission.
"What do you think they will do when they find out how bad you are?" She starts to approach you with those boots with a high step, her head lolling to the side with a tone to tease you. A smirk on her sharp face, her gloved hands resting on her waist. All those little details made you want to scream in her face, tell her that you weren't bad, but how would you say that if you didn't even believe it yourself?
"Maybe they'll get you out of here when they see how bad you are and realize that any of the agents here are much better than you, your place as an Avenger is almost invisible.” The girl laughs, her cheeks almost covering her eyes due to the action. At some other time you would find her features extremely beautiful, but at that moment, you wanted to vomit just looking at her.
Even if you tried to be strong at that moment, like your mother Natasha, you couldn't. Your fists were clenched tightly trying to control the tears from coming out, the pain of your nails in the palms of your hands trying to distract you from that moment. And every time that Agent mentioned your mother's name, your thoughts directed you only to them, how you wanted to be in their arms right now while you feel your hair being stroked by Wanda's magical hands. You knew that if you wanted comfort from your mothers they wouldn't wait a second to give it to you, and even if you didn't want to talk about why you were feeling that way, they wouldn't force you to talk.
"Where are you going? Ruin another mission?” If it weren't for the high-pitched, irritating tone of her voice, you wouldn't have even registered those questions in your head. Your thoughts were in a totally different space from that place, just wanting your mothers affection. So when you started packing your things and totally ignoring that Agent, you knew that your body wouldn't stop until you got home.
The girl's laugh echoed throughout the room as you headed towards the exit door of the place. In films, this scene would be dramatic, as if the main character was planning some revenge in their head to end the character who keeps provoking them. But at that moment you weren't thinking about revenge, or how you would turn things around, you just thought about how your mothers affectionate touches would turn that bad week into just distant memories. How you were sure that your mother Wanda would know what to say to you and how Natasha would know what to do so that your surroundings were just comfort.
You didn't wait a second before getting on your motorcycle, which Natasha had given you as a gift for your 18th birthday, and heading towards your childhood home. Even though those bad thoughts were in your head now and could possibly distract you in the traffic on the streets, you continued on your way with your eyes soaked with tears and the horrible tightness in your chest. You tried to think of good things, like your mom Wanda would probably be baking chocolate chip cookies and your mom Natasha would just be watching, since cooking isn't one of her great talents, but that domestic situation was pretty far away for you. It seemed that any self-deprecating thought stood in the way, a great layer of ignorance about happiness.
You didn't bother to park the motorcycle correctly, just running towards the entrance porch and knocking, almost softly, on the door. You heard some sweet giggles through it, confirming that your mothers were in some domestic situation, before the door calmly opened and revealed Wanda's long red hair. Her smile opened for a few seconds when she saw it was you, their beloved daughter, but when she came across the features on your face, the reddish eyes with lakes over them, her smile soon fell apart, taking its place a worried look. “Sweetie? What happened, my love?"
She took no time in taking you into her arms, even though you didn't answer her question. Your head falls on your mother's shoulder as she wraps one of her arms around your waist and the other massages the hair spread across her chest. Your hands tightly grip the blouse stuck to Wanda's body, as if at any moment she would come off and no longer provide the comfort you needed. Natasha heard your sobs from the kitchen, and she knew they were yours, she knew and kept almost everything about you. She quickly heads towards the front door, seeing her wife's back being grabbed by you, and how your body looked like it would fall to the ground at any moment.
“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Wanda whispered in your ear with her sweet voice. Your crying was loud, as if you had kept it for several days, your mother thought. She didn't know and had no idea why you were sobbing uncontrollably and why you arrived so early that day. Normally you would be completing some report, or training, since you always said how strong you wanted to get. But at that moment, everything didn't seem strong to you.
At some point you were carried and taken towards the comfortable sofa in that house. Your thoughts were so loud that you didn't even notice when you were positioned on your mother Wanda's lap. She still kept her grip on his body and the affectionate words in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Her breathing became heavier and slower, forcing it so that at that moment you could keep up with her. Natasha, beside you two, continued to caress your back, praising you for following Wanda so well.
You finally managed to take a deep breath after what felt like hours of crying and sobbing. Your gaze fell from your mother's eyes to your hands in your lap, you felt embarrassed. Maybe because you were 18 and sitting on your mother's lap, or because you were crying uncontrollably without being able to breathe properly, or because you failed at the only thing you wanted to do at SHIELD. “I feel like a baby.” You say in a low voice, almost making your mothers not hear, even with their proximity.
"Well, you're our baby." Natasha says making you finally let out a laugh between your lips. “Do you want to tell us why you're so sad, my love?” You didn't know if you wanted to tell them or not, the negative thoughts making you think they were going to fight you, tell you how bad you are. So, you shrug and lay your head on Wanda's shoulder again, but in a position so you could still look at your mother Natasha. “I just- I had a bad week.” You murmur, closing your eyes to feel the comfort that place brought you. “And, um… I think I should stop being an Agent.”
That took their mothers by surprise. You always said you wanted to be one of the people at SHIELD and you always trained to be one of the best at that place. “Oh, and why do you think that?” Wanda questions. Even though you didn't see her, you knew she would be looking at Natasha, as if they were talking through looks.
“I’m not good enough.” You felt Wanda's body tense beneath you. Your mothers always knew how much you felt like everyone was better than you, how hard it was to believe you were good at something. “This week I- I ruined every mission I went on,” Your mother's blouse was soaked with your tears, and now she could once again feel the salt water falling from your eyes through the fabric. “all the Agents are making fun of me because of it. They say I will never be like you.”
When you finish speaking, Wanda's grip on your body becomes even tighter, you feel Natasha's hand in your hair, stroking it as you hear her sigh deeply. “I've lost count of how many times your mother and I messed up a mission.”
“What?”
“There were several times when I blew up my teammates, for example, Uncle Tony was probably the one who received the most blasts.” Natasha says, making the three of you laugh at the words. “What about the times your mother mistook me for enemies and threw me out of buildings with her magic? We had to stop missions many, many times.” She emphasizes the word 'many', as if she were singing it.
“Remember when I joined the Avengers, Nat?” She was asking your mother, but she was talking so you could listen. “I was much older than you, Y/n/n, and I couldn't do half the things you do today at SHIELD, even with my powers.” She leaves a kiss on your head before continuing. “In every training session I did, I always ended up on the ground.” You laugh again, feeling much lighter than before.
”And you want to know something? I bet you were the one doing all the mission stuff, huh?” Natasha says. “Because if no Agent has ever made a mistake on a mission, then they aren’t real Agents.”
“Your mother is right, make mistakes is human, my love, and everyone will do it one day.” You feel your thoughts start to ease now. The tears stopped falling down your face and only lightness is in their place. Your mothers always knew what to do to make you feel good.
"You're right..." You finally admit, lifting your head from your mother's shoulder and looking at the two women in front of you, seeing nothing but affection and truths.
Wanda sits you down on the couch before getting up and ruffling your hair. "Now, don't worry your pretty head about that stuff and just think about the cookies that are going to go into your stomach in a little while that obviously weren't made by Natasha!"
"What do you mean by 'obviously’?" You laugh at that one scene, seeing Natasha's arms cross under her breasts as an indignant expression is placed on her face.
And at the end of the day you knew that you wouldn't have to worry about anything - just your mom's delicious cookies - and that you knew that your moms would never think about fighting or being upset with you. And Natasha would definitely make sure you didn't need to worry about that Agent who wouldn't leave you alone. That bitch will obviously never set foot in SHIELD again.
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mickyschumacher · 10 months
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style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx
𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)
𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Three years.
A lot can happen in three years.
For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.
Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.
Everything was going your way.
It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.
No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.
And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.
But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.
You missed him.
But that was three years ago.
You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.
For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.
Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.
He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.
Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.
How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.
God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.
But no. He had fuck to it up.
To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.
Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.
The temptation to see you was strong.
The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.
But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.
"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.
Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.
You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.
When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.
He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.
You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.
The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.
God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?
Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.
You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.
"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.
Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.
"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.
"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.
"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.
You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.
"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.
Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.
"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.
You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.
"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.
"I know. I'm–"
"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.
Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"
A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."
You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."
"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."
Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.
Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."
"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."
Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."
You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.
Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.
A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.
It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.
Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.
Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.
Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."
You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.
"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.
Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.
Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."
Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."
Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."
Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."
"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.
Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.
You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."
Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.
Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."
"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.
You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.
You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."
Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."
Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"
Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."
You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?
━━━━━━━━━━━
To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.
You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.
You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.
God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.
Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.
You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."
"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.
"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.
"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.
Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.
Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.
But you had decided to go the hard way.
When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.
Then he saw it.
Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.
And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.
No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.
It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.
And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.
Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.
To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.
You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.
Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.
The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.
After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.
Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.
You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”
“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”
Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.
“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.
Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.
As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.
Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.
You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”
Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.
Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.
Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”
You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.
Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”
You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.
“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.
Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.
Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.
Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.
Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.
“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.
You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.
“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.
Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.
You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.
Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.
Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.
“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.
Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.
This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.
You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.
You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.
Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.
"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.
You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.
Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"
You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.
Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.
Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.
"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.
Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.
You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.
Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.
Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.
Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.
"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.
Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.
But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.
Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.
"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."
"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.
You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.
Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.
Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.
Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.
You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"
Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."
You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.
Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."
Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.
"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.
"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.
Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.
"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.
His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.
"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.
"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.
You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.
"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.
Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."
"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.
Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."
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