Tumgik
#the other two came after... maybe only mere months after but he was the first and he is just. i love him so fucking much
Text
do you ever just sit there thinking about your favorite ocs while violently shaking. god. clenches fist. They're So.
#every time a song from their Joint Playlist comes on i go fucking feral#the betrayal the refusal to Let Go the haunting the persisting love the renunciation the resentment the abandonment the resignation#the overwhelming desire to do good vs the fear of admitting you were wrong vs the two people you love most tearing each other apart#AGHHHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK IM SUDDENLY DEEP IN THE ORIGINAL SAUCE#five seconds i was Normal. scribbling welcome home#then One Of The Songs Came On and now im losing my fucking marbles#perceived betrayals leading to real betrayals....#going too far and now its too late you're Committed you cant go back#he came to you thinking he could make you understand and you could work together to make things Better#and instead you ripped his heart out and left it bleeding on the floor for everyone to see#THEY MAKE ME MORE INSANE THAN LITERALLY ANYTHING#absolutely unprompted#the oc Unwellness comes and goes in waves but its the only true constant obsession with my life#god those three... my dearest darling Trio.... how old are they turning this year?#is it year eight of having them? year nine?#one of the two is for sure how long ive had My Specialest Boy Light Of My Life The Reason I Am Still Alive#the other two came after... maybe only mere months after but he was the first and he is just. i love him so fucking much#he is so so personal to me. he has a permanent place carved out in my chest#he sleeps on my ribs <3#the other day i was reminiscing about his development over the years. his changes his different Versions#and fuck... he's really changed with me huh??#his past selves are echoes of my own self over the years#like he is Very different from me but at the same time. i created him with little pieces of myself sewn in#we hold the same views the same beliefs. im not him and hes not me but we're Kindred yk yk#i think i need to go listen to his playlist.... how long is it now... let me check... 15 hours 13 mins... 228 songs...#my gay 5'2 powerhouse of a guy. him <3#maybe 'them' too he's played fast and loose with gender over the years. holy shit wait#his development echoes mine... i characterized him as 'fucks with gender norms' long before i realized my own gender fuckery#god damn. i love him even more now. i didnt think that was possible. im going to cry. hes so important to me#he has been with me through my worst years... and will be with me through all the hard times to come <3
97 notes · View notes
sardonic-the-writer · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: let's misbehave—cole porter and others
↳ notes: the fact i don't even care for the show and this is my second fic. save me alastor. save me.
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• It had been something of a shock when you found out that the giant joke of a hotel up the street was housing one of your oldest friends
• Alastor and you had run into each other during one of his first years in hell. A time when people still felt brave enough to point and laugh at him on the street without fear of being slaughtered
• You weren’t anything important at the time. Not an overlord or anything of the sort; just a regular sinner that died unexpectedly ended up face first on the concrete. Nothing to bat an eye at, really
• But for some reason, Alastor had been curtious to you all the same. Maybe it was the apologetic tip of your head you offered after accidentally running into him, or perhaps something else. Whatever it may be, the two of you wasted no time becoming fast friends. As long as you didn't mind the gore or screams of terror that is.
• And decades later, there you were, knocking slowly on a grand front door to pay him a long overdue visit
• Charlie and the rest of the hotel guests had been positively floored when you showed up in modern clothes and an easy-going ‘hello’, looking nothing like any friend of the Radio Demon
• “There has to be something wrong with you!” Angel Dust exclaimed, peering down at you in a stripped pink suit as he stood slack jawed. “No way Al has a normal friend. I mean none of us do either, but Alastor??”
• You think they were just shocked that Alastor had a friend outside of other overlords. And one he wasn’t using to make a deal with, nonetheless
• Husk and Nifty were the only ones that seemed unaffected by you. Not surprising, considering that you had met them both on separate occasions
• It only took one look from Husk behind his bar before was hopping out of the booth, mumbling to you that he would go get his boss. You just chuckled as he left
• Alastor was quick to materialize from behind you mere seconds later, wearing one of his larger smiles
• “My old pal! Oh how wonderful it is to see you again! It has been too long, I must say. Too long indeed!” The powerful demon laughed good naturedly . He held a hand out to you, and shook your arm with vigor as you returned the notion
• “Good to hear your voice again.” You said honestly, and smiled slightly at the familiar static pouring from his speech. He always has a way with words. “But really Alastor. Redemption? What are you up to this time.”
• “Hah! You know me too well, my dear.” He smiled deviously, twirling his staff from hand to hand as Charlie’s expression formed an offended pout behind him. You ignored it in favor of laughing with Alastor
• The demon wasted no time ushering you around the hotel for a good old fashioned walk-and-talk. It had been so long since he had last truly seen you, and there was just so much to catch up on! Of course, his events were a bit more exciting, so to speak, than yours, but the point still stands
• “— and oh how absolutely wondrous her screams were!” He cooed to himself, curling a clawed hand around the top of his staff in mirth
• “Alastor, you know how much I love your storytelling," You hummed slowly. "But mind telling me a bit about this hotel instead? Like what exactly you're doing here?”
• “Oh right! Of course!" He cleared his throat. "It all started when I saw this horrendous advertisement in one of those blasted T.V windows —"
• "Hey!"
• Judging from the shocked gasp that could be heard from behind you, Charlie didn’t take that too well
• More visits were made to Hazbin Hotel over the coming months. The more you came, the longer you stayed. Sometimes, you would just listen in on Alastor’s broadcasts like old times, or take to sitting at the bar as everyone else ran around like their heads were on fire
• Which happened more than you'd like to admit
• In the meantime, you became acquainted with all types of new faces; from a trio of bizarre eggs to the lord of hell himself
• Alastor had been very cagey that day.
• "Great to meet you, sir. Charlie’s talked about you before, and it's very nice to put a face to the name." You said politely while taking one of Lucifer's hands in both of yours to shake it. He just grinned uncontrollably response and made star eyes at the thought of his daughter mentioning him
• "Alright I think that's enough for introductions!" An irritated voice rang from beside you, practically overflowing with an aggressive amount of static
• "Oh shut up Alastor. I'm shaking the king of hell's hand. Let me have this."
3K notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 5 months
Text
18 + / mdi
Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, creampie, etc.
part 1
wc: 2410
a/n: ppl rlly liked my first gyu x idol!reader fic so i decided to make a pt. 2! im working on a long fic for idol!gyu x idol!reader rn (its a diff universe from this one tho hehe) which should be out this month <3
masterlist
it's been a bit hard.
dating an idol as an idol would really seem like the ideal situation, except when it wasn't.
yeah, you had been absolutely ecstatic upon finding out mingyu had been carrying a torch for you for years. you had felt the same, only ever entertaining your other friends' flirting out of mere desperation for the man to finally notice you. after he suddenly blew up, declaring his love for you, you thought it'd just be smooth sailing from here, except you hadn't really thought much past that.
maybe you were being unreasonable. i mean, you had never dated a fellow idol before! maybe it was all in your head. or maybe you just weren't too used to the dynamic just yet. you weren't too sure. but you had no idea how much longer you could take watching mingyu flirt his way through life anymore.
fans, staff, other idols, male or female, you name it. mingyu simply had an overly flirtatious demeanor towards absolutely everyone. you, personally, always kept a very clear line in fan service, or any other type of flirtatious scenarios (sans your previous attempts to make mingyu jealous). mingyu did not afford you the same courtesy, consistently following requests to call fans his girlfriends and even going as far as initiating the flirting in both fancalls and physical fan meetings. okay, maybe this was something you could put up with. these interactions were very short lived, so they never went too out of hand, but these were not his only offenses.
you looked past the flirting with idols, chalking it up to being played up for the cameras for entertainment purposes. you looked away whenever it went far enough to have fans speculating online. you knew idols were professionals at delivering fan service, always wanting to give people something to talk about. hell, you did it too! this was a bit annoying to watch, but you trusted your boyfriend and your idol colleagues, so you let it slide. it was other things that were harder to look past.
was there any need for him to flirt up a storm among all the female staff members? he was behind the scenes, for fucks sake! there were no cameras nor any benefit from entertaining their giggles and subtle touches of his muscles as they pretended to be interested in what he was saying. you knew your boyfriend probably didn't realize that he was flirting, having simply grown too used to doing it that it was second nature to him by now, but it was still frustrating! specially when no one knew that mingyu was taken. as far as any of his staff members knew, mingyu was still just your best friend, and any sighting of the two of you together (always accompanied by another member of the 97s or a fellow group mate of his to avoid suspicion) was always assumed to be strictly platonic. even now, as you walked into his dressing room, only to find his stylist - and a few of the members' stylists - flocking around him as he told some stupid joke that probably wasn't even funny.
it was sickening, really. the way none of them saw how desperate they came off. how none of them realized that if they all flirted with him at once, it truly had no effect, as he wouldn't pay special attention to any of them in particular. you felt like a hater, but being real, you were starting to become one. you watched him for a good five minutes, wondering if he'd ever notice your presence from across the room. when he did, he immediately went over to you, cutting off any of the girls who had been flirting with him in favor of welcoming you. he was amicable, giving you a simple hug. but his eyes told a different story. anyone who knew mingyu knew those eyes were reserved for his loved ones. that made you calm down a bit, even hugging him back and daring a short peck on the cheek.
today was yet another shoot at the hybe building. you had the fortune of belonging to the same company as your boyfriend, which meant you could stop by whenever you wanted (as long as you kept a low profile). you'd often drag jungkook along with you for appearances' sake, but had decided to go solo today. gyu was clearly happy to see you, interrupting his stylists to take a quick breather with you, heading over to one of the empty changing rooms and finally indulging you with less platonic affection.
"baby! wasn't expecting you today?", despite that, he was clearly enthusiastic to see you, attached to you like a magnet now that he had locked the door behind you, making sure no one was around to see his affections towards you.
"yeah, clearly ..." you couldn't help but grumble, disconnecting yourself from him.
mingyu didnt give you much of a chance to create distance between you, immediately holding onto you again, this time by wrapping his arms around your waist, yours instinctively leaning against his hard chest.
"baby, what's wrong? what do you mean?", a pout made its way to his face. of course he was unsuspecting. the mingyu you knew was far too into you to ever seriously hit on someone else when he had you.
you responded with a sigh, "mingyu, do you have to flirt with every girl you meet?"
"w-what? what are you talking about?"
"did you seriously not notice all those girls giggling at every word you said? they all want you, gyu. and you never put a stop to it."
"i dont .. the stylists? baby, ive never flirted with anyone in our staff, what? i work with them, of course i'm nice, but its always strictly platonic, you know that."
"the fact that you dont even realize it!", you separated yourself from him again, facing away and crossing your arms across your chest like a petulant child.
"baby ..."
"no, gyu. i'm not in the mood. i came to see you, but again, you're hitting on some other girl."
he wrapped his arms around you for the third time now, pulling your back to his chest as he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck. he was trying to break you down before you even managed to get fully angry at him
"princess, i'm sorry. i swear i didnt realize i was doing it. i- im just too friendly, i guess. why would i wanna flirt with anyone when i have you right here, hmm?", the kisses he began leaving along your neck did not help matters. he knew your weak points.
"forgive me, baby? please? don't want any of them. i'll tell them. i'll tell everyone, okay?"
"gyu ..." you whined, but still angled your neck for hin to keep kissing, leaning against his hold.
"yeah, pretty? i'll tell the whole world. it's just you for me," he paused, letting out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head, "it's kinda funny, though. now you know how i felt any time the boys would flirt with you."
"gyu! how is it my fault they liked me? and i only flirted with jungkook one time before we were ever together."
"and? still hated seeing you with anyone else. you're mine. you've always been."
he turned you around then, holding you close to him as he looked into your eyes. he smiled at you, kissing your nose before chuckling at your whines of annoyance at him. even when you wanted to be mad at him you couldnt. he'd always turn the situation around and swoon you somehow.
"let me show you, baby? show you that you're mine? maybe we can show those mean mean stylists too, huh?", okay, he was just teasing you now, lips drawn way too close to yours as he ran his hands up and down your back.
"gyu ..." you whined, making no effort to actually pull away.
"you'll let me. won't you, baby?" his eyes were glued to your lips, in a similar fashion to your own. you knew he could tell how badly you wanted him to close the gap, but you refused to make the first move. then he'd win. he'd be the voice of reason, which was something you just couldn't have.
"c'mon baby, just kiss me. you know you wanna. dont you wanna show them ill all yours? maybe leave your lipstick print all over my face for them to clean up? give me a hickey to- hmph!"
you had to shut him up eventually. he was driving you crazy. but he was also right. knowing you could make a statement about your relationship without actually having to explicitly say anything about it sounded too good to pass up, so you might've gone a little extra nastier with your kissing, running your lips all over his mouth, letting your tongue do all the work for you. mingyu had no complaints, even turning pliant under your touch.
huh.
he wanted you to be jealous, didnt he? he mightve not flirted on purpose, but now that he knew you were jealous he mustve felt some type of ... pride? at knowing how badly you wanted him to be yours and yours only. well. in that case, you were gonna give it to him.
you're not sure how it happened, but you ended up sitting on him, both your shirts thrown off as you ground on his lap as he sat back on the couch. the lower part of his face, along with part of his neck, were covered in lipstick stains, matching the smudged red along your own lips. you had left a few hickeys (okay, maybe five) on his chest area, not wanting to make the stylists work too difficult. the are with most damage, however, had been his hair, as you had messed it up in all directions possible through your incessant pulling. his hairstylists might have had complaints, but mingyu sure didnt have any. he kept moaning and sighing against your lips, hands guiding your hips from the moment you sat down on him.
"baby ... give me more ... please," you didnt blame him for growing frustrated at the lack of action. you yourself felt like you were at the precipice of pleasure, just needing to sit on him to find the way to your climax.
you helped him lower his pants enough to free his cock, playing with it for a bit before allowing it to slip under your skirt, panties shoved to the side in favor of creating a safe passage for his dick. you couldnt help the loud whine of pleasure you let out at the intrusion, feeling accompanied by mingyu and his own groan.
"gyu! shit ... feel so good- so big ..."
"i know, baby ... so pretty n so tight for me ... how could i ever want anyone else when i have my pretty girl so perfect for me. hole so wet and needy ..."
you cried at his words, speeding up as you angled yourself back to allow your clit to grace against him, making your eyes roll back even more.
"that's it, pretty. gonna cum for me? gonna let me fill you up, beautiful? that'll- fuck ... that'll show them who i belong to, huh? all yours, baby. just like y- you're all mine."
"yours! gyu, fuck! y- yours!"
"and im yours, baby. dont forget."
he kept poisoning at you from below, dragging your hips so you'd bounce up and down at a pace that had your toes curling. he always knew how to fuck you in ways that had your mind going completely blank, like right now. neither of you paid mind to the dressing room next door that was full of staff who could likely hear your muffles whines against each other's lips. you relished on it, even, knowing that once you walked back in the room they'd know who mingyu really belonged to.
"cum, baby. need you to cum so i c- shit ... so i can fill you up."
"almost there, gyu, just ... fuck! just like that! i'm cumming! gyu!"
"yeah, shit. gonna fill you up now, okay, baby? want you to keep it all in. show them im yours, yeah?", his hips never slowed down despite being you being on top. you were now just a rag doll he was using for his own pleasure. nothing had ever felt this good.
he filled you up soon after, with most of it spilling out due to the massive size of his load. he used his fingers to push it back in, then lifting them to your lips for you to lick clean, which you did with no complaint.
"oh, baby ... my nasty girl. how could i ever look at anyone else when i have my nasty baby so desperate for me? hmm? you're perfect for me, angel. dont care about any girl that flirts with me. you're all i want," he used his fingers to push down on your tongue as he said this, groaning at the way you sucked and sucked while looking at him with wide eyes.
"gyu ..." you whined as soon as he left your mouth alone.
"but im still sorry, angel. i didnt realize it bothered you. i get it. kinda wanna fight any of ur male fans when they get a little too friendly with you. that rookie at mnet last month? wanted to take him out back for the way he was looking at you when you performed."
"gyu!," you knew your boyfriend had been jealous of your friend group due to their former crushes on you, but he'd never told you that he felt the same way about literally any man you'd come across as an idol.
"what? im just saying, i get it! im also possessive and jealous. thats why we compliment each other. now come on. lets get you dressed, baby. gotta go have a very awkward conversation with my stylist so she can fix everything you just did to me."
"me?! look at me! im covered in cum!"
"hmm yeah. so pretty, angel. you better have it all in you by the time we get home, yeah?"
you huffed, but agreed, rolling your eyes at the innocent peck that landed on your cheek as he helped you look presentable.
you knew things would be awkward around his staff from now on, but it had been worth it.
1K notes · View notes
kentopedia · 7 months
Text
♰ sweet serial killer — nakahara chuuya
Tumblr media Tumblr media
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 4 - serial killer!chuuya
chuuya's always in such a rush to get home to you, so he can't really be blamed if he misses a few drops of blood on his clothes.
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, murder, blowjob, obsession, soft chuuya, one use of slut, pet names, slight corruption kink — 2.3k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the bloodstains had never gone unnoticed by you, despite what chuuya had thought.
the deep smear of maroon was the first thing that caught your eye each time he came home, smeared on his white collars, on the sleeves of his crisp button-ups. 
naively, or perhaps out of sheer desperation, you forced yourself to believe that they were merely from cuts on his hand, ones that he’d missed, wiping them only on his shirt on accident. chuuya, from time to time, could be accident prone. he’d hit his hip on the countertops, stub his toe and curse profusely after, constantly too rough on his body. it wouldn’t have been unusual if one of those silly errors had led to a more serious injury.
truly, there were a plethora of things that could have explained why drops of blood so frequently coated his clothing—just none that made sense to you.
the more you tried to rationalize it with yourself, the more outlandish your theories became. you couldn’t justify the blood running down the back of his shirt, not when you’d scrubbed his skin raw in the shower and found no cut. you couldn’t explain the dirt on his pants, the way that he’d spend half an hour in the bathroom every time he returned, turning the white porcelain of the shower a watery red. 
chuuya snuck out late often, came back even later. every time he thought you were asleep, you’d pop one eye open, notice that the door was cracked, and watch as he scrubbed his clothes clean in the sink. 
after, he’d slink into bed with you, curl around you with a heavy sigh, and kiss you deeply before passing out, as if nothing had changed at all. 
for a while, you’d wondered if he was cheating on you—but it seemed so unlike chuuya, and there was no other evidence to point in that direction.
you had another theory, of course, but it seemed crazy—the musings of an overactive imagination. it was unfair to chuuya, too, who was the most loving person you’d ever met. maybe he stayed out late, disappeared to places you didn’t know about… but he was charming, caring, and he loved you, didn’t he? 
but after nearly two months of enduring the routine, you decided not to let him off the hook any longer. if chuuya couldn’t be honest with you after a year of dating, moving in with one another, you weren’t sure he ever would be.
something about bringing it up to him, starting the conversation, was too frightening, and instead, you followed him one evening, when he snuck off on his bike, disappearing after midnight. 
he stopped first at a bar, coming out only thirty minutes later with a pretty woman on his arm, smiling roguishly as he gestured towards his motorcycle. for a moment, you had almost thrown up in your car, tears hot in your eyes as you wondered if, maybe, your suspicions were right. maybe he was cheating on you, even when you’d believed chuuya to be utterly devoted to you. 
maybe it had all just been a lie, an act he excelled at. 
still, you held your shaky hands around the wheel, determined not to get ahead of yourself. there wasn’t proof—yet—of that insurrection. you wouldn’t judge him until you knew for certain. 
if he had any idea that you were following him, he gave no indication of it. 
chuuya took her to an abandoned dock, one that was crumbling with old ships and empty slots, the dark waves crashing against the shore under navy october skies. it was eerie, hauntingly so, the sign decrepit and wasting away, the perfect place to commit a murder and get away with it.
he snuck in past the locked gate easily in his motorcycle, but you were forced to park beyond it and trudge ahead on foot. you only hoped that your car wouldn’t get broken into—and that you wouldn’t be killed in the meantime.
in the midst of your search for chuuya, you heard a scream—it rang out through the port, loudly, echoing in the hollowness of the empty air. there was no one around but you, no one to save whatever soul had met their demise. 
against the logic of every horror film you’d ever watched, you followed the noise, running towards it with heavy breaths in the cold air. the wind snuck down your throat, burning your lungs. 
you found him at the edge of the dock.
the screaming stopped, cut off abruptly as chuuya landed another rough hit of his knife, blood spewing over his blade, into his face, down his neck. he brought the silver weapon down over and over again, sticking it into the woman’s side, her chest, the sound as steely as it was in the movies. 
for a moment, you froze, unsure what do as you stared at your boyfriend, the one who smiled at you so sweetly. it was hard to reconcile him to this monster.
chuuya stood, straightened, and though your body was screaming at you to run, you could do nothing but stand and stare, breaths heavy at the sight of his familiar frame. if you ran, he’d only catch up to you. but if you didn’t…
“did you follow me?” chuuya turned, then, revealing only his side profile, so dark and glossy with red. 
you hands shook at your sides. “i—” the sound was so weak that you couldn’t finish your sentence. “chuuya, i’m sorry,” you said in a panic, wondering if you dropped to your knees, begged him that you wouldn’t tell, then maybe he’d let you live.  
he sighed and wiped his face, though the blood smeared worse in the process. it streaked over his chin, his jaw, as it dripped from the blade in his gloved hand. “‘it’s okay, doll. ‘m not gonna hurt you.” chuuya took a step forward, and though you couldn’t help it, you stepped back, shaking with fear. he stopped then, eyes softening at your fragility. “i promise.”
“chuuya,” you said again, helplessly. “what’s going on?”
he let the knife clatter onto the dock, his hands held high in surrender. with a sigh, his shoulders deflated. “you weren’t supposed to see me like this, baby.” 
“you killed someone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks.
he looked out towards the ocean, his tongue running over his teeth before his jaw clenched, tightly. “it’s just a little something i gotta take care of, okay? i’d never hurt you. i love you, remember?” 
that seemed like the kind of stupid thing that only took place in books; a serial killer truly loving the woman that he kissed at night. but chuuya… 
well, it seemed hard to believe that everything about him had been a lie. 
“you’re scaring me,” you said, wiping your face. “i don’t—”
he was upon you in two strides, stripping the gloves that held someone else’s blood, seeping into the fabric. his cold hands cupped your face, and there he was: the man you adored, delicate fingers tracing your jaw, eyes full of adoration for you, and not an ounce of malice. “i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry,” he said, kissing your cheeks, your nose, pressing affection into every pore. “i wish i didn’t have to, but,” he kissed you hard, wrapping you up in his arms. “it’s just an itch i can’t stop scratching.” 
you knew enough about serial killers to understand what he meant. “she was an innocent person,” you argued, though you were melting into chuuya’s arms, forgetting your fear, despite your sprinting heart. 
“no, no,” chuuya countered, his hands lacing through your hair. “i worked with her. she’s been after me for weeks. slipping things into my drinks when she thinks i’m not looking.” he smiled, but something about it was dark, evil. “just like that man who followed you home three weeks ago. just like your ex-boyfriend who made you cry every day. or the man who tried to mug your best friend. they’re people who hurt others. they’re not innocent, are they?” 
chuuya seemed genuinely curious, his head cocking to the side, and his fingers stilled, his lips red not from blood, but from his force of his kisses. 
you let a shaky breath leave your lips. “you did all that?” 
when he put it that way—was it such a bad thing? you had been relieved when your horrid ex-boyfriend had been found dead on the streets. perhaps the men who found it fun to prey on unsuspecting women deserved a gruesome death just like him.
maybe even the woman who had her sights set on your boyfriend shouldn’t get off any easier.
“if i must live with this sin,” chuuya said, a response to your silence, his eyebrows pulled together tightly, “it only makes sense i should do something good with it.” 
“by killing the people that hurt me?” 
“well,” he smiled softly, “what other purpose do i have to live for?”
the weight of chuuya’s devotion washed over you, and you remembered your previous thought, of needing to drop to your knees and beg chuuya for your life. now, though, he was staring at you so lovingly that you fell to your knees in a different way, brushing your hair out of your face. 
chuuya watched as your fingers ran over the bulge in his pants delicately, a thirst starting in your stomach. you loved him. and if you ever doubted that fact, now you were certain. 
“what are you doing, doll?” chuuya asked, breathlessly, watching as you undid his belt, slid the silver zipper down his tight black pants. “you just found out your boyfriend’s a serial killer, and you’re gonna suck him off… are you that much of a slut?” 
you’re not sure why the mean name spurred you on further, sent need coursing through you as your mouth watered for chuuya. 
“my boyfriend killed someone who was trying to take him from me,” you smiled sweetly, licking your lips. “who else can say the same?’
chuuya sucked in a breath as you freed him from the confines of his tightened pants, stroking your manicured hand down the length of him, the touch barely there. then, you wrapped your hand around him, your fingers tightening as you watched the flush start from his neck, the red that couldn’t hide, even beneath the smears of blood. 
“you wanna watch next time?” he teased, wispy strands of hair falling over his eyes. “if a man ever bothers you, just tell me, sweetheart. i’ll kill him with you right by my side.” 
you were ashamed by how much that turned you on, the pool of desire sinking in your stomach. already, you ached to get your lips on chuuya, and you stroked him eagerly, listening as his gasps grew faster. 
quicker than anticipated, chuuya was hard, the tip sticky as sweat gathered at his hairline. his lips parted so beautifully when he stared down at you with darkened grey eyes. 
“maybe i’ll kill them myself,” you said back in a sultry voice, knowing perfectly well that your fingers would tremble around the blade, that you couldn’t kill a man even if you wanted to. still, you liked pretending to be chuuya’s beautiful siren as your thumb grazed over his slit, just feet away from the woman he killed. “think i’d look pretty with blood on my face, chuuya?” 
chuuya groaned as your hand sped faster, shiny and sticky as he leaked down your palm. “oh, you’re pretty all the time, but god, knowing you’re just as fucked up as me would drive me wild.” 
you smiled, chuuya’s cock stiff in your hand as you pulled away, licked the wetness from your palm. blinking up at him from under your lashes, chuuya’s gaze grew dark, his patience waning. 
“taste good, chuuya,” you grinned, wiping your hands off on your thighs as you finally positioned your lips over his tip, kissing him lightly. 
he hissed, but kept his hips still. “yeah? want me to cum in your mouth? fuck,” he said as you sank your hot lips over him, your tongue running along the side of his aching cock. a heavy hand landed on your head, and chuuya stroked your hair lovingly, his breathing heavy as you hollowed your cheeks. “such a messy girl, all for me. so hungry for my cock, aren’t you?” 
you made a soft sound, your mouth too full of him to speak. 
“y-yeah,” chuuya stuttered, his chest heaving as your fingers reached up to stroke him gently, massage his balls as spit made a mess all over your face. “fuck. fuck, you’re so perfect. i can’t let anyone else have you. gonna kill anyone who even looks at you.” chuuya groaned, his other hand coming around to cup your cheek, thumb stroking you in adoration. “i bet you’d like that. you’re so desperate for attention, and you’ve got all of mine.” 
his words came out more raspy, then, voice lingering on the edge of a sigh. you ran your tongue along the vein, swallowing around him once more. from the deepened sound of chuuya’s voice, you knew he was close, and his fingers curled in your hair, roughly, squeezing at your scalp. 
he choked out his words, chest rising quickly. “just like that, sweetheart, such a good girl. you’re gonna make me cum.” his voice strained as his hand guided you, gently, along his aching cock. 
there was little warning when he shot thick ropes of cum into your mouth, yanking on your hair tightly as you swallowed as much as you could. it leaked onto your lips, down your chin, and you glanced up at chuuya with lust-blown eyes, smiling with flushed cheeks. 
“i love you, chuuya,” you said, your hands resting on your lap as he gazed down at you, cock twitching once more at the sight of you so ruined. 
“shit. i love you too, doll,” he said, pulling you to your feet, cradling you against his chest. “i’m never going to let anyone hurt you again. i’ll keep you safe, okay?” 
you smiled, nodded at the sight of his flushed cheeks, but already, he was tugging at your waistband, sticking cold fingers down your pants.
“chuuya,” you gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “what are you doing?” 
he smirked, eyes dark as he rubbed a finger through your wet folds. “didn’t think i’d let you go without taking care of you first, did you?” chuuya asked, watching the breaths come out of you quicker. “besides,” he nodded over his shoulder towards the lifeless, bloodstained body, eyes wide and white in fear as she stared. “we can’t leave without giving her a show.”
Tumblr media
tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess
OCTOBER MASTERLIST
sorry guys i kinda rushed through this one a bit bc i wanted to get back to writing about my scrumdiddlyumptious pookie bear :/ (dazai)
699 notes · View notes
1d1195 · 12 days
Text
Ding - Round 2
Tumblr media
Read Ding here | ~6.2 k words
WARNING/spoiler there's a scummy guy in this part that tries to be forceful with our MC to go with him back to his place when she doesn't want to. Nothing will happen and nothing will be described in detail but be kind to your mind and heart ♥, trauma, anxiety, pining, and fluff.
From me: I actually know VERY little about boxing and even less about throwing a punch. I do however feel I'm well-versed in sprinkles so do with that what you will. Some parts of this got a little away from me again. I hope you like it 💕
Summary: Harry and Cupcake are both really busy and haven't seen each other in two months. But when Cupcake gets into trouble, she has no choice but to run into Harry.
Tumblr media
Harry learned to fight when he was ten years old. He didn’t have his dad around much to teach him. Mum and Gemma may as well have been pacifists and as such, they weren’t much help when it came to defending himself. Harry watched his little girl friends get teased by boys. The same boys that told him he was weird for liking girls when they had cooties. Even if he didn’t (always) like them like that and was just merely defending them. Mum and Gemma may have been pacifists, but they taught Harry to be a respectful young boy. Especially toward girls.
One too many mouthfuls of sand at recess was enough to make him finally do something about it. He was angry. Angry because the girls didn’t like him because he was a boy (although they tolerated him since he was protecting them). Angry none of the boys in his class wanted to be friends with him because he was being nice to girls filled with cooties. Angry that he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to be a boy’s boy.
For a ten-year-old, he was really angry.
Mum took him to a gym—an introductory class to kickboxing. Just to get some of his anger out in an appropriate manner (and so he wouldn’t be sent to the principal’s office during recess again). Harry took a liking to the punching bag. He cried the first time he used it with the help of an older kid who was helping him learn to punch the right way. The poor teen watching him get so frustrated that his punches and kicks weren’t landing right—even though it was his very first time throwing a punch—saw something in him. Alerted his boss, encouraged Harry, worked with Harry every time he came in. He was a great mentor and even though he left only a couple years after meeting Harry to go to university and all that, Harry was forever grateful.
His first amateur match was at fifteen. Then there were only ten rounds at most, and he won by a landslide in five. By then he met Louis—someone who saw the same thing that teen kid saw in him and offered to be his manager. It wasn’t anything serious at the time. Harry was still in school and only using his time after school to get better at boxing. Louis was only a few years ahead but knew enough to help him be great.
By the time he turned eighteen, he had won three state-titles and people were watching him. At least in a way that those who cared about boxing did. Throughout university he trained and got better and won more and more.
Now Harry was twenty-five. He had to be nearing at least a hundred thousand punches since he was ten—eitherthrowing them at someone or at least in training against the punching bag he loved so much. Maybe more. He couldn’t even begin to think or count how he would figure out that number. Harry’s whole life was training, working, and fighting.
The only joys he had outside of boxing were his car and the sweet little niece that Gemma had kindly brought into his life—but that was only a recent change.
Only one other very recent change had left him a bit tongue-tied and flustered. Harry didn’t get flustered. Not since he was ten and knew he could beat the crap out of someone. There was no ringing bell to prepare him to make eye contact with a complete stranger and just feel like he had never ever felt before.
Was it love? Who could say, really. Harry had never loved anyone in his life that wasn’t his family or his friends. It made his stomach flutter like the first time he fought in a ring for something other than a trophy. A mere two hundred dollars on the line, all to get punched a whole bunch of times. Now he was still getting punched a few times over for a decent amount of money, but the thought of that pretty girl and her sprinkles made him unbelievably excited. Knowing she was there really made him feel different.
He knew next to nothing about her, but he was certain he was going to fall for her given half a chance. Even if she gave him a half a chance—a quarter!—he would do everything he could to have her in his life. If anyone else had damaged his car, he might have lost his shit, but there was something about her kind face, her doe-eyed expression in the rainy lamplight that made him rethink his entire life in the span of twenty seconds.
But whatever it was that he felt for her, he knew it started with her ringside. Beside his best friend waiting for the end of the fight that never seemed to end.
Normally, Harry’s matches finished in an average of nine rounds. But he was seated in the corner, sipping water like a hamster from the bottle, while Louis put Vaseline on his face where the cut on his eyebrow split between the tenth and the eleventh. “How you doing?”
“Is she impressed?” He asked.
“Who?”
“Cupcake. She’s sitting next t’Niall,” he was breathing heavy. Good as he was, it took a lot of energy to punch someone for a half hour as it was.
“Who?” Louis repeated, then thought better of it. He shook his head in frustration. “Can you focus on what you’re doing, Harold?!”
Louis didn’t get it. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. To be fair, she was probably the reason it was taking longer than normal. Not that he minded. As long as she was impressed by the end, of course. Harry was on his feet, shadowboxing briefly with Louis, that boyish smile on his face. “What the fuck is your issue?” Louis hissed at him. “You’re acting like a lunatic!”
It seemed like a cliché to say he was in love, so he refrained from doing so. He felt it spared Louis further frustration as well. Cupcake, Cupcake, Cupcake. It was the only thing his brain could think. Fortunately, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next round and knocked a bit of the sense back in his head that had floated away from him on the thoughts of the pretty girl nearby.
His opponent was just as tired (although Harry believed his opponent was more so) as himself. He could see the exhaustion setting in as he held his gloves up near his face blocking a few jabs Harry threw to get the excitement of the new round going. He was waiting, searching, nearly taunting for a window of opportunity. Right as his opponent swung aiming for his face, Harry dodged his punch; smirking as he did. A blinding weak spot, his guard was down for only a fraction of a second but that was all Harry needed.
Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.
Ding.
*
Harry looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting there in the bakery kitchen. He was a bit cut up; his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth, and his cheekbone had little cuts. Soothed with Vaseline, but it didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were droopy. “Is Niall still around to drive you home?” She asked.
He shook his head. “I can drive,” he murmured.
He wasn’t really looking at her, but her look and tone screamed skeptical. “You look too tired to drive.”
“Mm,” he hummed. She was busy bustling back and forth through the kitchen. Cupcakes were in the oven. She only made a dozen, but Harry didn’t seem to notice it was a small amount. He was sitting at the big table in the middle of the kitchen. A seat dragged in from the office. She had her laptop open in her office running the report she needed while Harry held his head propped in one hand. She busied herself with prepping dough for scones and pastries while Harry tried not to loll off to sleep. She smirked at him.
“I could call you an Uber if you wanted,” she offered. “You don’t need to stay with me.”
His eyes were hardly open. “I’ll get a second wind in a minute,” he yawned. “S’jus’ the adrenaline wearing off,” he explained.
“Does that hurt?” She asked gesturing to the cuts on his (otherwise really perfect) face.
He shook his head. “Stings a little.”
“Will you be sore tomorrow?”
“A little. Stiff really... Why y’want t’give me a massage, kitten?” He smiled flirtatiously. Maybe she should have felt uncomfortable, alone with a man she only just met. But honestly, she thought Niall might be her new best friend and if Niall could vouch for Harry, then she wasn’t all that worried about him. Regardless of him knocking out his opponent with one punch. Truthfully, it was nice of her to walk her to the bakery. It was later than she expected and while the town they lived in was pretty safe, the college safety tips of never walking alone flooded her mind each time she did walk alone. She blushed at his forward assumption, but fortunately she was prepping something and stuffing it in the fridge, so he didn’t get to see. Plus, his exhaustion probably made him even flirtier.
“Thanks for being m’good luck charm, Cupcake,” he murmured sleepily.
“I didn’t know you didn’t need one.”
“Can never have too much luck.”
She smiled, continuing her prepping quietly. Harry watched her for a while. Eventually, his arm dropped to the table, and he rested his head on it. After another moment, a soft snore escaped his lips, and she smiled a little brighter. Only for herself, really, since Harry was asleep. She continued working. She was used to late nights. Maybe he really was going to get a second wind—honestly, she couldn’t imagine boxing and punching someone for almost forty-five minutes with only one-minute breaks in between rounds. Sometimes while she was baking, she would try to do other tasks while the timer counted down to take the treats out of the oven. It always surprised her how long and how short a minute could feel in the same breath.
But while she worked, she was mindful to not make too many loud noises. Harry needed sleep it seemed. She prepped for nearly an hour while waiting for the cupcakes to cool long enough to scoop out the middle and fed the sugary raspberry filling into the empty space. Frosting a dozen cupcakes took all but ten minutes then she packaged them in two half-dozen plastic containers with A Pinch of Sprinkles label taping it shut. Gently, she put her hand on his upper arm, and she really shouldn’t have been so surprised by how taut his bicep was beneath her hand, but she was. He was unbelievably strong, and she was in slight awe and shock of touching him—and he wasn’t even flexing. But rather than be creepy, she gave him a gentle shake. “Hey, Harry... Uh...it’s late. I’m gonna get going,” her voice was soft.
Harry startled almost jumping out of his seat and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Sorry, sorry. Wow,” he turned his neck to the left and then right. “M’sorry I dozed off there.”
She shrugged. “Probably needed it,” she assured him with a gentle smile. She pushed the dozen cupcakes forward, across the table. “For you.”
He blinked then looked up at her. “Did you make these for—”
“Well, yes, I made them. You were unbelievably kind to me even though I dented Clay. Plus, you won so it’s like a job well done, you know?”
“You made me cupcakes,” he repeated, his gaze unmoving from her face.
“We really need to work out this whole repeating what the other one says thing,” she felt her cheeks warm as he stared at her, but she smiled, only feeling slightly awkward.
He turned his attention to the two plastic boxes and tilted his head at them. They were identical. His fascination with her precision was immense. “What kind are they?”
“The raspberry filled ones. You said you liked them.”
His gaze went right back to her, and he felt hungry, but not for cupcakes.
Well, at least not the baked good kind of cupcake.
“Thank you, Cupcake. That was sweet of you. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
Her smile seemed to transcend to a feeling of relief. “Not even a little...um... I just have to grab a couple things. Would you... mind walking me to my car? Unless you need to leave right now. I know it’s crazy late. I’ll be okay. I walk to my car on my own usually but it’s always a little creepy. But I feel bad I made you—”
“’Course m’gonna walk you t’your car,” he rolled his eyes. “Besides I don’t want you t’ding Clay again,” he winked to ensure she knew he was kidding. Because yes, he loved his car.
But rapidly, when it came to her, the car didn’t matter in the slightest.
*
She hadn’t seen Harry in two months.
It wasn’t like she was avoiding him. Part of her knew he was a mere social media friend request away. In fact, she was trying her hardest to not stare at the pictures of him on social media, the PR plug for his matches, and all the things that she saw Niall, Louis, and all his other friends shared. But she didn’t want to come off too forward. It seemed weird to be so into a man she only talked to for no longer than ten minutes total.
Besides...she had her routines. Work, family, and more work.
Also, if Harry was really infatuated with her the way Niall alluded to, he knew where her bakery was—he easily could come and find her here. But she did notice there was a tag to her shop on Instagram with raspberry filled cupcakes in the picture. (All it would take is for her to press the Follow button and wait.) While she didn’t know Harry all that well, she assumed he was probably just as busy. Her brief cyber-stalking showed that Harry was often at the gym—although she wasn’t sure which one. He was also an amazing uncle. That much was clear. It warmed her heart, and she would never want to tear Harry away from that kind of time. Family was extremely important to her. She wholeheartedly understood how much his free time was probably monopolized by the little baby.
But it was so strange that she didn’t know him yet there was some part of her that wanted to see him. It was bizarre. She never got all up and arms about a guy. There was work and there was her family. That was it. That was all she could afford to balance. She didn’t need a guy to mess with her routines or upset the balance of her life.
However, every time she walked alone to her car at night now, she wished that Harry was with her to assure her safety—even though she had done it hundreds of times before. The night they met, he walked her in silence, opened her door and made sure she was safely tucked inside. “Good night, Cupcake,” he smiled almost dreamily.
“Good night, Harry. Congratulations,” she responded with a smile too.
Harry’s smile grew and he looked away briefly before patted the top of her car and turned to Clay, put his cupcakes on the passenger seat and moved to the driver’s side. He gave her a wave and pulled out of his parking spot.
It was two months ago.
But after just one month, it was hard to deny she didn’t miss him.
That had to mean something. Just one brief night—not even a date. Most of that night was spent with Harry in the ring or asleep at her kitchen table. Hell, she got to know Niall more that night. But it was Harry’s smile that plagued her thought—crooked and perfect. The way his eyes glittered as he convinced her to follow him with a picture of his niece.
“Are you baking something in here or burning in here?” Maeve asked.
Maeve was her best employee—her right hand nearly every day. More importantly, her best friend. Shaking her head of the thoughts surrounding Harry, she sighed and turned to the oven where her fudge brownies were surely overdone. “Shit,” she whispered.
“I don’t think you’ve ever burned anything. Are you okay?” Maeve asked gently. It was a loaded question. It took a lot of time to dig the answer out of her friend, but Maeve did. She knew asking if she was okay was probably the wrong thing to say.
But if it was, she didn’t mind. Of course she didn’t. Her very best friend was sweeter than all the treats in the display case. “Just a little distracted,” she mumbled grabbing the tray and setting it in the sink to cool off (and hopefully so she didn’t have to scrape the bottom of the tray later).
“Harry on your brain?” Maeve giggled.
She rolled her eyes but felt the way her cheeks warmed at Maeve’s (correct) assumption. Maeve was shocked to learn that her strong-willed friend was convinced by a stranger to go see a boxing match. She couldn’t believe it. Granted, once she saw the picture of Harry, she couldn’t disagree. I think I would let him punch me in the face if he wanted to.
She decided keeping Maeve as far away from Harry as possible was probably necessary.
Rarely did she and Maeve work together. As her best employee and best friend, it was like asking her to hold her child when Maeve was on shift. There was no one she trusted more. So, when Maeve wasn’t there, she often was and vice versa. But every so often, usually at the shift change, Maeve got to see her best friend in her element. “Well, the good news is, you can go think of him at home,” she winked at her.
She didn’t even look at her. “You’re disgusting,” she deadpanned.
Maeve snorted. “That’s not even what I was insinuating. Your mind went directly to the gutter. Good for you. I bet he thinks about you while he’s doing it too.”
“Jesus Christ,” she was blushing brightly now. “I just want to fix the display case and then I’ll go.”
“Any fun plans for tonight?”
She hesitated briefly. “Uh yeah...actually. I have a date,” she mumbled.
“Oh!” It was silent for a long beat. Rarely did she go on dates. There were only a few since she moved into town three years ago. Mostly because the bakery took up so much of her free time. The remaining bit of time she had and didn’t go on dates was because of the guilt she felt. Maeve’s surprise was palpable. It made her cheeks turn pink and she bit the inside of her cheek. “Good,” Maeve smiled encouragingly. “Online?” She asked.
She nodded. “We’ve been messaging back and forth for like...” she shrugged. “Two weeks.”
“Are you excited?”
No. “Yes,” she sighed softly. “Been a while,” she smirked. There was a huge part of her brain that told her she didn’t want to go because it wasn’t Harry. It was like a neon sign had been posted in her frontal lobe reminding her that it was pointless to even consider this date. She should have just requested to follow Harry and be done with it—he would probably drop everything if she asked him on a date. “Just...nervous.”
“It’ll be good!” Maeve said reassuringly. “Share your location with me and text me when you get to where you’re sleeping,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“I will be sleeping at home,” she promised snorting through her laugh at her best friend.
Maeve smiled heading to the front and leaving her to finish with her burned brownies.
*
The front of the bakery was dark in color; she was aiming for warmth. The floors and baseboards were dark walnut brown. It contrasted sharply with the wall she wall-papered by hand with a white and brown marble pattern behind the display cases. It made the black chalkboard menus with the same walnut brown frames stand out. The lights were always set to dim when they were on. Her goal was to recreate the feeling of her childhood home—particularly the den where her father set up the most beautiful Christmases. The bakery lacked a fireplace (she joked with Maeve that it was an oven or a fireplace, and the oven did a better job at cooking croissants evenly).
The front of the bakery wasn’t massive. There were five little tables to sit and enjoy their treats if people wanted but it was really a grab and go kind of place. The back had more treats stored so the main room didn’t look overwhelming. The front display cases still contained more treats than anyone could think of eating. I wish I could buy one of everything was heard frequently from the line. Eventually she wanted to invest in coffee but for the time being she liked just her treats and was happy to recommend the coffee place down the road. If she ever got a hold of more space, then she would consider buying all the machines for coffee.
The bakery was honestly warmest when it was rainy. Which was frequent. She was reorganizing the main cupcake display, a tower of three tiers with one of each type of cupcake she made. The raspberry filled cupcake was the one that had been on top for the last two months. Each time it was bought, she replaced it with another. While people raved about her brownies, cakes, and even the croissants, it was the cupcakes that people came for; and so, she took care of the display as much as possible.
“Which one do you recommend?” She turned to the voice and saw a mom and little girl waiting patiently. She smiled fondly.
“Raspberry filled,” she pulled it from the top tier and handed it over. “Try it,” she offered.
“Oh, we don’t want to get you in trouble,” the mom said quickly while her daughter grabbed for it almost immediately.
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I know the owner,” she promised. “Maeve! I’m leaving!” She called but was delighted by the little girl’s approval. Silence, cake and filling on her cheeks immediately, and a delightful look in her eye.
“Have fun!” She called back.
“Enjoy the cupcakes. I also like the lemon vanilla ones.”
“I think raspberry filled is the winner,” the mom smiled.
She nodded, unable to keep herself from grinning back. “A fan favorite.”
*
She should have stayed home. The bad weather should have been an omen. But maybe it wouldn’t have been because she met Harry in bad weather, and everything was fine that night. It soured her mood and made her feel infinitely worse to think about the comparison.
I’m home. Not a great date. I’ll tell you later. She wished she had gone to Maeve’s. Maybe she would have doted on her. But she didn’t want to fall apart the way she planned on in front of her.
:( sorry babe. Sleep tight. Talk to you tomorrow :(
She locked her apartment door and checked at least fifty times that it was truly locked before she moved to her bathroom. Her heart was still in her throat and her eyes felt raw with tears. Maybe she was overreacting.
No.
The rational part of her brain reasoned against her handwaving casualness. She had good instincts. Obviously. If this same situation happened with Harry, then maybe she would have considered it her own poor judgment. It was more reason that someone as terrifying as Harry could have be sweet as her cupcakes that it was her good judgment that helped her get out of there tonight.
She hurried to get out of her clothes. Part of her considered throwing them away. She didn’t want them any longer. She wasn’t sure she would ever wear them again. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and pushed it a little further.
He didn’t hurt her physically. He tried. It was obvious his intent was to force her into the car... or worse. Which was disgusting in its own right. Until that moment in the dark, rainy parking lot, it was almost identical to her moment with Harry. But it wasn’t. Harry didn’t make her feel unsafe. Harry didn’t make her feel threatened. Harry gave her an out even though he wanted to hang out with her. She knew she could leave at any moment and Harry wouldn’t have blamed her.
She rubbed her arm so hard with her loofa in the shower stream it burned for a new reason. Tears blurred her vision and she felt so stupid. So completely idiotic. How could she let it get that far? That was so dangerous. So close she could have been hurt in so many ways that she didn’t want to think about, ever again. She closed her eyes and let the water wash the night away, feeling completely alone and dreadful.
She never wanted to date again.
*
She finished her shower, sniffles plaguing her, and she got into her comfiest pajamas. Her heart was still beating too fast as she crawled under the covers. She felt so ashamed. It felt like her fault. All of it.
There was a tiny rattling in her brain that Harry could have prevented it all. She should have just requested Harry on social media when she met him. If she had, she would have had his number by then. He would have helped her for sure.
Without thinking, she scrolled on her apps, and clicked on the various follow buttons. Every platform she could think of to request his social media friendship—looking like a lunatic be damned. Almost everything had a phone call button now, she could use it as backup if she needed. For good measure she requested Niall too. It was nearing midnight, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was scared. Nervous. Heartbroken.
Yet, within moments, Harry returned the request along with a direct message in her inbox.
Thinking of me at midnight, hmm?  😉
She snorted despite her uneasiness. One sentence and she melted. But she couldn’t let him know that. 🙄 it was nice while it lasted. Just going to unfollow you...
Aw, c’mon Cupcake 🙁
Oh alright... No, not really... just can’t sleep. Popped up on my people you may know while scrolling. It wasn’t a complete lie, and she was glad she wasn’t having a phone call. He would have heard her sniffles and then she wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from inviting a total stranger over. Right now, she didn’t trust her judgment fully.
Been dying to press that Follow button, Cupcake. Didn’t want to come on too strong after that first night.
She couldn’t help but smile. The contrast between the night she met Harry, and her present night made her sad but relieved at the same time. I see you enjoyed the cupcakes.
Louis made me run laps for two hours because of you. I ate all twelve in less than 72 hours. Do you put drugs in those? They’re addicting.
Lol, no drugs. Well... sugar. So, pick your poison I guess, right? 😇
Well, thank you, Cupcake. That was delicious. I hope you liked the match too. We didn’t get to talk much. I know I fell asleep 🤦‍♂️ I was really happy you were there.
Her heart felt so warm already. Despite how much she didn’t want it to. Thank you for inviting me. Because she was nothing if not polite. It was really exciting! I don’t know much about boxing. But it’s obvious you’re very good—not that you need me to tell you that. Were you really going to make me look like an idiot and not tell me you were undefeated?
You’ll make me blush, Cupcake. Didn’t think you’d come with me if you knew.
Sneaky... 👀
Just... wanted you there, kitten. I promise. Nothing more... I know I came off a little too strong and I know I was a little...pushy. I would have let you go to your store if you really wanted to... But...
The three dots on his message disappeared and reappeared a few times over.It was cute to imagine him holding his phone thinking about what to type, erasing it, typing it again.
I can’t explain it, Cupcake. I’ve been going CRAZY these last two months. Niall’s calling me a stalker and I haven’t even SEEN you. The sentiment doesn’t give her any bad feelings. Because despite how much she wanted to be guarded, especially after her evening, she couldn’t help but believe him. Trust him, implicitly.
I swear something in the universe pulled me to you... I woke up just in time to see you blowing up my phone tonight 😍😍
She snorted and felt her body warm with his kindness, his gentle adoration through her phone no less. You’re insane, Harry Styles.
About you 😍
Oh my God... Now she really was blushing, but she couldn’t help but notice she felt so much better chatting with him. Well... we can talk tomorrow if you want.
Oh?
I’m assuming you’re tired and I’ve already hogged more than enough of your time at midnight, as you pointed out.
Oh, no.
No way, Cupcake. I’ll stay up all night to talk with you ❤
Her heart felt so heavy. It was unfair. How could she be so stupid? Her dad would have killed her for being so naïve. It was his worst fear while she was growing up. It was everything he always talked her through when she was going through puberty and telling her about boys teasing her. Her dad reminded her constantly that a man has no right to make her feel scared or fragile.
But she could feel his grip on her arm trying to coerce her back into his car. She shook her head of the thoughts, refusing to let him poison any more of her time than he had. She was talking to Harry. She was okay. It was alright. It didn’t happen. She got in an Uber, and she’ll never see him again.
Harry was talking to her. Harry made her feel safe. Harry didn’t make her stomach unsettled with a bad gut feeling. Here’s my phone number if you want it.
Within moments, she had a new text message alert. This is better than an undefeated record 😍
*
The following morning, she felt less terrible about herself and her stupidity, but she never wanted to feel that way again. She was also so tired from texting with Harry for hours. It was nearly three in the morning catching up on all the things he did in the past two months before she wished him a good night. There wasn’t much to report about their lives. They both seemed to be workaholics, but he did offer her some really cute baby pictures of his niece (and a pretty cute picture of Niall falling asleep on Harry’s couch after an intense workout).
While she sipped her coffee—staving off the sleepiness, she Googled self-defense classes. Her dad would have approved. He wanted her to do it back when she was in college, but she refused for whatever reason. She regretted that too.
It was telling that she debated whether she was overreacting for several minutes. If she was overreacting, she would have brushed off the idea of self-defense classes like she did in college. But this wasn’t something to overreact about, right? Before she could overthink it any longer, she paid for the class. Honestly, in that parking lot she was smart to do this. Worst case scenario, for one reason or another, it was the smart decision.
She cycled through the next stage of grief feeling angry and bitter that he made her feel this way. She was incredibly lucky it was raining and slippery and she managed to get away from him in the chilly spring air. He left her so rattled. She was defenseless, so a class was needed.
God, she missed her dad.
Fuck, she missed Harry.
She never wanted to feel that helpless again.
With the class paid for, she put an apron around her waist and headed to the front of A Pinch of Sprinkles and turned the closed sign to open.
*
The following Monday, after a full day of flour, sugar, and plenty of customers, she headed to the gym.
It felt awkward. She hadn’t been to a gym since her college days, and she was already frustrated from her horrific night out. She and Maeve told each other they would go together but they were terrible influences on one another and opted for shopping trips with the promise they would pretend their shopping bags were dumbbells.
When she arrived, she headed to the front desk and introduced herself. She even admitted she felt awkward and the woman behind the desk smiled encouragingly. “I’m Sarah. Let me show you around,” she came from behind the desk and headed toward the side room. “It’s safe here,” she assured her, like she knew. The assurance made her throat tight with emotion and she nodded stoically. “This is the locker room; you can change in here and you can leave your stuff locked up or in the front cubbies and I can watch it. Whatever makes you more comfortable,” she smiled kindly and glanced her up and down briefly. “Do you own that bakery downtown?”
She smiled and nodded, looking at the flour handprint on the thigh of her pants. “Thought I got all the flour off,” she brushed at it with a chuckle. “Yes, I do.”
“My husband is going to think I met a celebrity today,” she laughed. “We love your blueberry scones. They taste like heaven.”
“Aw, thank you so much, that’s so kind. I’ll bring some next time,” she promised.
“Oh stop, I’ll divorce him,” she laughed and headed back for the front desk.
She quickly changed, feeling safe and relieved once more. She brought her belongings to the front and sat in one of the seats across from Sarah’s desk. “Kickboxing is just wrapping up and your instructors will be right over,” there was a group of several other women milling about. Obviously, they at least knew how to be in a gym by themselves. A few came as a small group. Maybe she should have brought Maeve.
While waiting, she scrolled through emails from her landlord, her college alma mater group, and all the coupons she had ever subscribed to. “I have got to unsubscribe,” she murmured to herself. She scrolled through photos of the beautiful little area she lived in now, and as sad as it was to get here, it was nice. Her shop was nice. Despite how scared she was over the weekend, things were good.
The only thing that wasn’t nice was that stupid, awful man.
“Holy shit, he’s hot,” she heard someone whisper. It was peripheral. She didn’t even register it really because she was sending Maeve a picture of the sale that was happening at their favorite clothing store on Thursday. If she paid attention, she might have noticed sooner.
“Ladies, self-defense class, this way please!” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Maeve sent about ten heart eyes to her, and she smiled, stuffed her phone in her bag, and waved to Sarah.
“Blueberry scones,” she repeated with a firm nod and followed the line of women. She sipped from her water taking in the banners around the gym and realized too late why Louis’ voice sounded so familiar.
He stood at the front of the room, along with another familiar face.
“Oh shit,” she whispered to herself and turned immediately back toward the desk.
She bumped into another woman who steadied her and kindly looked her over. “Sorry—are you alright?” she was nearly motherly in her demeanor and her head felt woozy. She couldn’t do this. Harry would know.
Why was Harry attending her self-defense class?
“Yes, yes, sorry,” she shook her head. “Wrong—”
“Hey,” Harry’s voice was right there. She stepped out of the room trying to get more air to her lungs and head.He wasn’t attending. He was teaching. This was his gym. The boxing rings in the main room should have been a clue. The sound of Louis’ voice. Oh, you stupid idiot, her brain scolded.
“Cupcake?” Her head responded to the nickname instinctively. Harry’s suspicious green eyes gazed back at her. “What are you doing here?”
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist here
379 notes · View notes
thesunisatangerine · 5 months
Text
against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part eight
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: none
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 4.2k
words in italics: whatever language you like
“Make sure you stick close to your uncle the entire time and remember: if you don’t feel well or if, at any point, you want to leave, just tell Uncle Robert and he’ll get you out of there, okay?”
Elisa nodded as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Alright. Put on your headphones and follow your uncle.”
“Follow.” Elisa pronounced the word slowly, before she continued in English, “you said it wrong, Mom. You say it like this.” 
Then she repeated the word again.
You smiled, nodded before you repeated the word for her. “Got it. Thanks, ladybug. Now go, I’ll catch you guys later.”
Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, you hugged Elisa one last time and placed a kiss on the top of her head before you let her go. She bounded to where Robert was standing, gave you one last enthusiastic wave, then you watched as they began to walk off to the direction of their seats. 
Now that you were alone, faced with the corridor that lead down to the pitch, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and then with leaden legs you began to walk.
To say that you were nervous was an understatement; you were absolutely terrified. Not only because this was you first coverage after… after the last one, but also due to the fact that this would be the first time you were going to see Alexia in person since the night you left.
Alexia wouldn’t recognise you–no, she wouldn’t even know you were here–you saw to it. You asked Derek to register you under Jersey’s name because the client was none other than Alexia’s agent, a request that earned you a dirty look from Derek but he indulged you anyway. And as a precaution, you made sure to wear a face mask–an accessory that was met by a knowing, raised brow from Robert and a worried, ‘Are you sick, Mom?’ from Elisa–not to mention that your hair now was different compared to then. 
No. Alexia wouldn’t recognise you; you were, after all, only a face among the many that adored her.
You kept walking, shielding your eyes from the brilliant stadium lights as you stepped foot on the grass.
Fifteen months. What good did that time do you? Just the mere thought of Alexia’s eyes suffused you with such burning ardour that neither a kiss nor touch from another could come close to her–there simply was no competition. You couldn’t even let another touch you the way she did because the act of kissing another’s lips was enough to incite guilt in you. 
But why? How could Alexia still have this much hold over you after all this time? Was it because this was the first time you felt something deeper for someone, something that transcended the physical aspect of a relationship? Or was it the fact that the moment you let yourself be vulnerable, almost offered yourself completely, everything came crashing down? And now, you found yourself hung up on someone who had clearly moved on.
But, a small part of you reasoned, if Alexia had truly moved on, why still try to commission you? Why would she want you around? Maybe she… No. You shook your head firmly. That wasn’t possible.
Pain throbbed in your foot as it collided with the sponsor board that lined the spot you picked, earning you a few concerned glances from the nearby photographers who were already there. You cursed internally, dropping your bag to the ground, as you offered the others a sheepish smile and an apology. The pain brought you back to reality though, a reminder that you needed to get your mind out of the gutter and that you had a job to do. 
You had weeks to prepare yourself for this. Everything would be okay. How hard could this be, really?
An hour passed and the stadium was filled to the brim with Spanish red and Brazilian yellow to witness the first match of each team for this tournament. Each nation’s supporters clapped and roared when the players began to run out to the pitch. And all the mental preparation you’d done for this left you completely. 
The moment she stepped out of that tunnel and the stadium lights shone down on her, it felt like you only learnt how to breathe again. There Alexia stood: the slope of her shoulder familiar, the strength carved in the curves of her back looked stronger, and the lines of her arms just as inviting as they were the first time you met. 
And those eyes, even if there were meters between you the weight in them–that low, burning fire–was all too apparent from where you stood.
Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling beneath your mask. She looked healthy; happy.
As the starting whistle breached through the chants of the crowd and resounded through the arena, you found yourself content–content at being an spectator of Alexia’s life, to watch her shine from afar, that was enough. 
Parc des Princes. Sweden vs. Spain: The Clash of the Titans.
Not even two hours before kickoff and a significant crowd had already gathered by the entrance points of the stadium donning their respective supporter colours. It was no surprise to see such numbers very early on this fine Saturday evening because ever since the results from the dramatic Semi-Finals that saw Sweden and Spain through to the Finals, it was the talk of the town:  the World’s Number One against the World Champions; both formidable in their own rights made them titans indeed. 
And the question of who would emerge victorious would be answered tonight.
You saw firsthand how Spain brazenly blazed through this competition, knocking out their tougher competitions in the form of Germany and Japan in the Quarters and the Semis respectively in a similar fashion. They were a force to be reckoned with driven by their purpose and it made you more than proud to see how far they’d come.
Though it had been difficult you managed to remain undetected throughout the length of this tournament, something that you were truly grateful for. And after tonight, you could as easily slip out of Alexia’s world just as you had seamlessly gone in for the last time. The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardise Spain’s chance at winning no matter how little an impact your presence would cause if you were discovered by Alexia. 
But the thing was, you couldn’t lie and say you felt nothing as you watched Alexia from afar because you did: all the regret and desire… the longing; they were all there with you. More than once you found yourself wanting to run into her arms, to tell her you missed her, to let her know she saved you, to tell her… But you knew in your heart that that couldn’t be, so you allowed yourself this brief luxury, this silent, intimate appraisal of what and who she’d grown into even if she herself didn’t know it–you captured it all and to you that was more than enough.
As for Elisa she was nothing but ecstatic, a bundle of energy through and through. If you were being honest, you had doubted your decision to bring her with you because you didn’t know how being surrounded with tens of thousands of people would affect her even though she’d told you multiple times she could manage it. But to your relief, Elisa had immersed herself in the sport, blanketed herself in its atmosphere and in fact, she seemed to thrive in it. On the way home after each of Spain’s match you went to, Elisa would recount in vivid clarity all the instances she deemed to be highlights of the match–of course most of them were about Alexia which wasn’t a surprise considering how much she meant to her. 
Elisa was enjoying herself and that, truly, brought you immense joy and comfort. She never asked you for it but you knew how Elisa badly wished to meet her inspiration, her and Robert had tried at the end of each match to stick around to meet her but so far, they had no luck.
No, Elisa never asked for you to do anything about it but that didn’t mean you couldn't try. You couldn’t quite think of how to go about it just yet but seeing as how the match before your eyes was the last, you knew your time to decide was beginning to run out. 
The thing about football was that it was unpredictable, one minute it could be going your way, the next it could be the opponent’s; nothing was set in stone and anything could happen.
It was nearing the forty-minute mark, the scoreline was still down at all nil, when Aitana sent the ball lobbing from the middle, just at the edge of the penalty box, into one of Sweden’s goalposts for Alexia who’d already made her surge forwards. In response, Zećira Mušović dove for the nearest post, just about managing to grab the ball as it landed a few paces in front of Alexia’s feet but the ball went out of play as it slipped from her grip. Alexia was going too fast though and your heart jumped in your chest with worry as Alexia leaped over Mušović’s prone form, barely avoiding a collision with the Swedish goalkeeper, before she ended up slamming against the sponsor board and–
Suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs as your back slammed to the ground and the back of your head throbbed with a dull ache that made you groan. And then you felt the warm weight pressed against you, dangerously familiar and way too close for comfort but it was gone before you could open your eyes. When you did you found honey-coloured eyes that you knew all too well as Alexia regarded you with concern.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Alexia asked, her ragged breathing made her accent all the more pronounced, and she took both of your hands in hers to help you to your feet. You tried hard not to think about the warmth of her palms on your skin–in fact, you hardly had any thoughts at all–and your throat was so parched you could only nod at her question. 
Only once you got back on your feet did you notice Alexia had gone stock still. The sudden change in her demeanour worried you at first, especially when she hadn’t let go of your hands yet, and then confusion settled in. That was when you realised her attention was zeroed in on the string around your right wrist… at the bracelet she made you, the one you couldn’t bear yourself to part with.
Your eyes widened and you snatched your hands back, shielding your wrist from view with your other hand but you knew it was already too late. Alexia now looked at you, the concern in her gaze now shone together with… something else, eyes red as unshed tears clung to her lashes. 
“You…” Alexia’s voice low–restrained–as her throat bobbed and her chin quivered. 
The sound of the whistle barely registered in your mind and Alexia looked like she hadn’t heard it too, her eyes remained glued to you as if she’d seen a ghost. Then Aitana was by her side, hand around her arm as Aitana attempted to tug her back into the game but she just wouldn’t budge. Aitana regarded you briefly, the clear confusion in her eyes difficult to miss, before she tried to coax her captain away again.
“Alexia. Go.” You said as you gently pushed Alexia away with a hand on her stomach. She flinched from your touch–and her reaction really shouldn’t hurt this much but it did anyway–so you quickly retracted your hand away. Only after that did Alexia finally let herself be pulled away by Aitana but not without staring at you as she went.
This was bad. Out of all the times that this could happen, why now?
You picked up your camera, the fact that it was intact offered you little comfort, and the urge to run away pervaded you. You so desperately wanted to pack everything and leave, allow Elisa to enjoy the match and maybe just sit this one out in the crowd with her. Alexia didn’t need to know. 
The thought was tempting.
But with clenched fists, you stayed. 
A moment later, the Swedish supporters roared when Spain conceded a goal during extra time which left them now down to one goal. Spain still had enough time to try and equalise, and their chance was given in the form of a penalty.
Alexia stepped up but Mušović denied her a goal and your heart ached from the way Alexia shook her head, dejected as she looked up at the sky. 
The halftime whistle blew and you watched as the players walked towards the tunnel entrance but, your eyes widened when you saw her, Alexia was making her way towards you, stride long and with purpose. Her face was neutral but the way her lips was pressed in a thin line revealed that she was anything but calm.
Oh, fuck. 
You didn’t even have time to compose yourself–or do anything, really–because before you knew it, Alexia had leaped over the sponsor board, gripped the monopod with your camera and ripped it away from your hand. A protest left your lips but it was quickly cut off when you felt her other arm around your waist, pulling you to her with a strength that left you breathless. And when you felt her front pressed firmly against your own and her warmth immediately seeped into your bones, everything melted away–the flutter of camera shutters, the roar of the crowd–your world became Alexia entirely. 
Everything just fell rightly into place. It felt like coming home.
Alexia didn’t say anything, just craned her neck so she could rest her head against your shoulder. At first you were frozen, your arms still and left hanging by your side, but as you felt the way Alexia’s ribs expand and the way her heartbeat jumped through her jersey, you came back to yourself and finally, you slid your arms around her, your hands immediately finding purchase in the small of her back. 
You gripped her jersey as you sank into her embrace, pressing your cheek against her collarbone, and god, what did you do right in this lifetime–or the last–to have her back in your arms like this? You breathed her in and you nearly sobbed at the intimate familiarity of her scent.
“Alexia, I–” You began but you shook your head. So instead, you choked out, “Alexia, you shouldn’t be here.”
Silence was the only answer and Alexia seemed to cling all the more tightly to you after the words left your mouth. And you could feel it, the despondency in the slope of her back as if they already had lost the match. Guilt ate away at you. You did this, didn’t you?
“Listen to me, Ale. Your team is waiting for you. They need their Captain, Alexia. They need you.”
At those words, Alexia only buried herself further into you as if she wanted herself to disappear completely. Then she spoke in a voice so small you could barely recognise it was her talking.
“I messed up. I… I can’t be what they need me to be right now. I feel weak.”
You recognised this, the familiar shadow of doubt that tinged Alexia’s thoughts and marred her confidence. Although rare to rear its head, its venom was lethal when it did, attacking her weakest parts, right where it hurt the most. 
Cradling the nape of her neck with a gentle hand, you let her fall all the more closer to you and you whispered softly, but firm in the way you enunciate the words, to get your message through to her. 
“‘The match is not won until the last second is lost.’ Alexia, isn’t that what you told me? You can't just give up now. You can't lose faith in your teammates right now." Alexia’s breath hitched at your words, her arm around your waist tightened. You continued, “your strength is their strength, and theirs are yours. I used to tell you, remember? You're so strong but it's not all yours to carry, Alexia. You're only human but that doesn't make you weak. Have faith in them... have faith in you."
You turned your head just so so you could rest your temple against the line of her jaw before you said, “now go, Alexia. Your team needs you.”
Alexia leaned in to your touch and sighed. She nodded and finally she loosened her grip but before she fully extricated herself from you, she said in a raw voice but not with malice, “I’m still mad at you.”
You couldn’t help it, the small laugh that bubbled out of your throat as you rested your forehead against her shoulder. 
“Fair enough. You can be mad at me all you want later but right now, you have a match to win.”
She pulled away and you finally saw her eyes. Albeit red and raw around the edges, the hazel in them shone with a familiar brilliance, a hungry fire undiminished by the tears in her eyes. You longed to dry her tears but Alexia did it herself, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. She handed you back your camera, hand lingering on your right wrist as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the string there, gave you one last look and a nod, before she jumped over the sponsor board and sprinted to the tunnel entrance, the crowd roaring as she went past them. 
At her departure, the rest of the world came back to focus: the stadium, the screaming fans, the blare of the halftime music… the cameras pointed at you, from the broadcasting channels to the phones of the fans on the stands; you were the subject of all their eyes, all their lenses. Even when you glanced at your fellow photographers, most of them had their cameras pointed at you, some looked at you with passing curiosity while some stared at you as if you’d grown an extra pair of head.
Your ears and cheeks warmed at the attention, gut coiling uncomfortably as you adjusted your face mask, something that you were all the more grateful for especially after that little public display from Alexia. You kept your head down as you walked the length of the sideline towards Sweden’s goal for the next half, and you tried your hardest to ignore the weight of the stares by pretending to tend to your equipment. 
Then you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You fished it out and found a message from Robert.
‘That was… pretty public. Are you feeling alright?’
You looked up, tried to pick out Elisa and Robert from the crowd but when you couldn’t, you typed out your reply.
‘I’m fine, thank you. How are the both of you?’
‘Well, Elisa’s just about as ecstatic as any child who found out that their mom knows their favourite football player. She’s been asking questions non-stop, I don’t even know how to answer them all. Please help.’
Despite your situation, you chuckled at the image of Elisa pestering her uncle. 
‘Tell her she can save her questions for me later. Don’t say anything else.’
‘Okay, thank you. And hang in there.’
The loud cheers from the crowd drew your attention away from your phone and upon looking up, found that the players had begun entering the pitch. Automatically, your viewfinder was to your eye, framing the players as they went and taking a shot. 
Alexia was last to step foot on the field and you didn’t miss the way she looked over the last spot she saw you and when she couldn’t find you there, her head swivelled around as she jogged to her position in the opposite half. She found you eventually and even with fifty meters between you, the intensity of her stare reached you. It made you shiver–hopeful in spite of yourself–but when the whistle cut through the air once more, you readied your camera, breath held for what was yet to come.
The game went on and you were so focused on trying to do your job that you couldn’t keep up with the details but the fact was this: no matter how hard Spain pressed forward, Sweden’s defensive effort increased twofold, and whenever Spain played deep to keep Sweden in check, Sweden prodded forward, constantly chipping away at Spain’s defensive line with each effort. 
After Sweden’s attempt at Spain’s goal came an opportunity. One minute Cata had the ball in hand, the next the ball was by Alexia’s feet who took one touch before she passed it between two defenders to Salma who was waiting past the halfway line, who then dribbled the ball into Sweden’s penalty area, then she cut it back and crossed it to Aitana who angled her run just enough to tap the ball in.
One-one.
The crowd roared to life and Spain’s fire was reinvigorated. They had eleven minutes left of normal play to score another goal and win. Both teams clashed, gave their all throughout the remaining time, then through to additional and extra time.
Now the moment of truth: a penalty shootout at Sweden’s goal.
Your palms began to sweat, nervous for Alexia. When was she taking her penalty?
Spain went first. They got it in. Sweden as well. One-one.
Then it was two–two.
Spain got their third. Sweden took their shot but Cata deflected it.
Mušović stepped up this time and blocked Spain’s fourth. Cata, again, anticipated right and denied Sweden their own.
You drew in a staggered breath as Alexia began to walk. Once she got to the ball, she flicked it up with her foot and caught it easily with her hands. Click. Through the lens, you watched as Alexia turned the ball over then placed it right by the penalty spot. Click. Then she began fixing her socks, adjusting her shoes, brushed her left ankle with her thumb–click– and she leant back up, resting her hands by her waist as she waited for the whistle. You zoomed in on her face: she was stoic, calm as she eyed the goal, beads of sweat lined her forehead and the bridge of her nose–click.
The whistle blew.
Alexia took five steps back, one step to her right. She took two short strides forward and on the third, her left foot connected with the ball. The net moved with an audible swish from the power behind her kick, depositing the ball in the bottom right corner of the goal and the crowd roared–or was it you who was screaming?–as the rest of Spain’s team ran to their captain to hug her.
Spain won.
Photo after photo, you captured Spain as they celebrated, their cheers and victorious cries. And when each member of Spain’s team walked the stage to receive their golden medals, the feeling that surged through you was something else entirely. 
The celebration went on but as the crowd thinned and the live broadcast ended, anxiety filled you once again. You tried to keep track of where Alexia was but she’d been surrounded by so many people that you lost her in the celebration. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you packed up your things but kept your camera out as you hung about at the edge of the pitch near the stands.
And then you heard it.
“Mom!”
You turned to the sound and found Elisa who was leaning against the safety rail of the stands just off to the side of the tunnel entrance, an enthusiastic arm waving in the air as she grinned at you. Beside her was Robert who, too, was leaning on the railing with his elbows who gave you a small wave as you jogged over to them, pushing your face mask down on the way.
“Elisa, ladybug, careful you might fall!” You reprimanded but a smile made its way on your lips all the same and either way, your words fell on deaf ears as Elisa excitedly bounded up and down.
“Mom! Did you see that?! That was so intense! And did you see how Alexia just went,” Elisa imitated Alexia’s strike and an affectionate laugh bubbled out your throat at her display, “and it was the best!”
Then Elisa stilled, eyes widening as she looked past you. “Oh my god, Mom, it’s–”
“‘Mom?’”
It was Alexia but her voice was almost unrecognisable because of how flat it sounded. You whipped your head back and surely, the expression Alexia wore accentuated the barely hidden animosity but it wasn’t directed at you nor Elisa. Rather, you found her glaring up at Robert and at his hand resting on the railing where the gold band on his finger was visible–glinting.
You looked at Alexia, whose demeanour was souring by the second, then at Robert who looked paler than you’d ever seen him before, then to Alexia again.
Oh, no. 
529 notes · View notes
astarionenjoyer69420 · 5 months
Text
reader x astarion - "i want an heir"
hi! this is my first fanfiction ever!
summary: ascended astarion has some...desires that only you can provide for him.
warnings: dubcon/noncon, smut, breeding kink, cnc, bondage
(not my gif)
Tumblr media
You were his. Forever. Aetherna amantis, he had claimed. Lovers forever. It almost sounded too good to be true. 
You should have known it was too good to be true. 
Being one of Astarion’s spawn, albeit the prized one, was not all it was cracked up to be. Sure, you had a certain degree of protection. And yes, you got to live in this fancy mansion, existing by your lover’s side both day and night. And the bite marks he had gifted you on your neck; well, they were just more reminders that you were his, entirely his, and no one could take you away from him. 
But Astarion had been ascended for a few months now. You had gone from being his only one, his only prized spawn, as he had promised you, to brothers and sisters galore, traipsing up and down the halls of the palace he promised was solely for the two of you. As much as you wanted to complain, you knew your now master would never hear of it. And he would get in one of his moods.  
And when Astarion got in one of his moods…you knew trouble was headed your way. 
And that’s how you came to be completely helpless, arms bound to posts of his velvety bed, stark naked with the nip of chilled air the only thing covering your body, rag shoved in your mouth so you couldn’t even talk to yourself, couldn’t even make any noises besides mere vocalizations. 
At least you still got some individual attention compared to the other spawn. 
He had tied you up…crap, how long could it have been? Hours ago now, most certainly, or maybe that was just you getting in your own head. “Be good, darling,” he had purred, tugging your restraints so hard they dug into your flesh, after he had physically picked you up and forced you onto his bed. “I’ll be back when I’m done for the day.” But he had not said exactly when, and there were no clocks in this ancient room. So you had sat, tears welling in your eyes at the utter humiliation of it all, for what felt like an eternity. And the bastard knew you couldn’t fall asleep, either. 
But there was something else. The longer you waited, the longer the pool of warmth grew between your legs, aching with anticipation for what would come next. Your thighs smushed together, desperate to indulge in any sort of stimulation, imagination running wild as to what your master had planned for you. He had never…done this before. Forced you to submit to him. You were always a good girl. But defying, you realized, had its advantages. And with every bit you wiggled and the leather dug into your wrists, the more slick you felt fountaining from between your legs. 
Low noises from the hall…footsteps. Quick, light footsteps. Your heart thrummed at a breakneck pace in your chest. You would know that stride anywhere. He was back. Your cheeks grew hot, remembering how completely exposed you were, stripped of any choice in him seeing you entirely nude. And you were starting to begrudge that fire in your belly that picked up when you thought about your forced indecency. 
Your lover’s footsteps grew nearer, then stopped as you discerned the sounds of a key turning in a lock. You were practically vibrating with adrenaline when he stepped in the room, swiftly sealing his door behind him, red eyes shifting to your helpless form on his bed.
You couldn’t help it; in the face of such perfection you felt almost dizzy. Power radiated through him, jagged and dark and untamable. Under his cloak, bulging muscles tugged at the fabric, and his white curls boasted perfection, as always. You were so overcome with lust you could barely speak…even if you hadn’t had a gag in your mouth. He was always the most beautiful creature you had ever laid eyes on, but the commanding swagger he exuded after he became master to you and the other spawn was, admittedly, a great look for him. 
He approached your body, wisps of a smirk tugging at his perfectly plump lips. “Darling. Tsk. Look at you, still here where I put you all those hours ago.” His smirk widened, becoming overt. “Not that you had much of a choice…I mean, look at you.”
“Mmph,” you tried to respond, your inaudible reply sending a flood of humiliation to your head, and you became aware of a soft thrumming in your nether regions. God, you had no idea you were so into this, being completely and utterly helpless and so degraded, but you supposed you were just along for the ride at this point. 
A pause. Thirsty eyes gazed into yours, never breaking eye contact as his overclothes were shed, and you tried (in vain) not to ogle his perfectly defined body; he had to be handcrafted by the gods themselves. You were grateful for even this tiny moment to soak him in; he was so busy nowadays.
“Darling, I have a proposition for you.” 
Your eyes darted to his face, which had abruptly transformed into something more serious, more pensive. You really hoped this proposition had something to do with his mouth and a few choice body parts, although it had been mostly you servicing him like that since the ascension. “Mmph?”
He stepped closer to the bed, and he was so close you could almost (metaphorically) taste him; every inch of his flesh was perfect, and you longed to be able to touch him, to reach out and trail your fingers down his abs, caressing his marble figure, lowering your hand down to his happy trail and lower…lower…
He inhaled sharply, taking time to fully release his breath from his lungs. “Darling, it can’t be any surprise you’re my favorite of the bunch of these…creatures. You know, we genuinely had something before…all of this. It was cute, yes, cute, the way you stared at me, the flawed…thing I was before I became unstoppable. Unkillable.”
Okay, not off to the best start by calling you and the rest of the spawn creatures, but you would take it for now. Especially because he was really hot. Like, really hot. And missing him all day helped matters as well.
“And so, now to my point. I have been…thinking recently. About the future. About expanding my network, so to speak.” His brow crinkled, and he began to pace, back and forth by the foot of the bed. “And how, since you’re usually so terribly obedient, how I could honor you in some way, perhaps by making you a part of that future.”
He stopped pacing, averting his gaze to rest on you, his eye contact almost too intense to bear. “After today, I realized you couldn’t be trusted anymore to serve me. Struggling, resisting your master simply will not do. Which is why this is going to happen now, regardless of any of those pesky opinions you might have about it.” He spat the word opinions out like it was poison on his tongue, and unfortunately the growl in his voice made the heartbeat between your thighs thrum more intensely.
“I want an heir. And you’re going to carry him for me.”
Silence. Your pulse skyrocketed, feeling like a hummingbird in your chest, but your brain had not been able to process his words yet. An heir? As in, like, a child? A…pregnancy? No, no, that wasn’t possible between two vampires. Unless… “Mmph…”
“I know, darling, aren’t you just so thrilled to hear the news,” he cooed, reaching out, cool fingers cascading slowly down your cheek, every nerve in your body alight at the simple touch. “It can happen, you know. Between vampire and spawn.”
And he was by your ear, you flashing back to nights in camp right before he would bite down on you, excitement zinging through your body like a rogue boomerang. His whisper surrounded you, tickled your neck, had you crying between your thighs. “And you would look just so pretty all swollen with my child. Body completely belonging to me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Logistically, you were panicking. Even if what he was saying was true, who knew if it was, that he could…get you pregnant in the first place, you had never been the maternal type. Your life as an adventurer had prohibited any thought of parenthood to ever cross your mind, and you figured you had officially forfeited that path once your heart had shuddered to a stop after your master’s ascension.
Logistically, sure, yes, bad idea. But an ever-growing part of you; one bellowing as it invaded you, sent waves of bliss through your body, moistened your inner thighs; wanted this. Wanted it bad, wanted it more than anything. You would be his, all his, a display of submission so great it physically took hold of you. None of the other spawn would have that privilege. And moment by moment, this was all looking more and more alluring. “Mmph…”
You felt yourself flush again as the vampire hopped into the bed, positioning himself so he was completely on top of you, using his two arms to balance himself, making you look at him directly in his glowing, almost ravenous eyes. Up close, it was even more unfair that he oozed perfection; unmarked skin, smelling of bergamot, rosemary and fine brandy, so tantalizing it made your head spin. Though you wanted to resist, wanted to protest, wanted to try and kick him off of you, Astarion was using the full extent of his vampiric charisma on you.
You couldn’t do anything but stare as he lowered himself to your neck, brushing gently against your collarbone at first, an involuntary moan escaping from your lips, only slightly resenting yourself for how much you would inevitably show you enjoyed this a little too much. With a low chuckle, he nipped lightly at your neck, not yet drawing blood, pain intermingling with pleasure as you knew he was marking you. He loved to do this, especially when he was in one of his moods, teasing you and working you up until you were begging him to give you pain, give you anything.
“Mmm…” you murmured as his teeth scraped your flesh, puncturing you, penetrating you, all over, as if your entire neck was his to maim. Your neck was throbbing, no doubt blooming now with marks all over, and you loved every second of it. You wanted the other spawn to know you were his, that you had the honor of being marked by him. 
Your hips bucked into him, once again desperate for any kind of touch, even just one lone finger. Your wrists yanked at the restraints as your body made itself known, shame of being completely nude gone, just wanting some release. 
Astarion pulled back, breathing hard, something gleaming in his eye. It wasn’t hunger, but it was close. Hunger for…something else. Something more than blood could give him. “Wear your hair back tomorrow,” he growled. “I want everyone to see what you let me do to you.” 
You nodded meekly, pulsing between your legs nearly painful, being fairly certain you had soaked the sheets. Although you knew you might be punished for it, you continued to try and grind on your master, though the angle wasn’t quite right. And he knew damn well what he was preventing you from doing, splayed completely on top of you, deadening any hope of movement in your legs for the time being. 
Astarion grinned. “I love it when you’re so good for me. See, it isn’t that hard, now is it?”
You shook your head, widening his smile, being only able to watch as he grabbed your breast, massaging it slowly with his hands, earning another choked moan from you as he pinched your nipple hard between two of his slender fingers. “Maybe if you were a bit more obedient this morning, you would get something of a choice in this matter.” 
His other hand made its way to your other breast, squeezing tightly. “But now…cute little sluts that like getting tied up need to get taught a lesson.” Your body was on fire, the shape of his large erection now prominently pressing on your thighs, and you dripped with want- no, need. “You want to get knocked up by me so badly, hm? You fought against me so hard this morning, but you want me to own your body for nine whole months more than anything, is that right?”
Any logical thoughts you harbored had sailed away long ago. “Mmm…” you replied in affirmation, drunk on him, his scent, his scarlet eyes, the low intonation of his voice, the way you were helpless, you had no defense, he could fuck a baby inside of you with no resistance. 
“Good girl,” he replied, and to your humiliation his hand trailed downward, dancing on your skin ever so slightly, goosebumps raising on your arm as he made his way between your legs, nearly casually dragging his index finger up the side of your folds. You gasped, the stimulation almost too much to bear, the bed quaking as your whole body seized with pleasure.
“Tsk, tsk,” he intoned, drawing his hand away as quickly as it had come, your clit thrumming with disappointment. “You have such a pretty little pussy, positively, delightfully soaked by me.” A low growl. A pause. Then: “Too bad I’m going to fucking ruin you for anyone else.” 
Before you could think, before you could react, his hand was back on you, aggrandizing slow circles being drawn around your clit, your heartbeat so loud you could barely hear his whispering. “Have to prepare you to be bred, darling. Have to give you so much pleasure your body knows me, and only me.”
Your legs shook, warm, radiant pulses emanating through every limb in your body, every neuron welcoming his touch, his filthy words, your complete and utter submission. You were already close- fuck, how were you already close? You pressed your pussy against him, trying to ride this high, to feel his beautiful hands while they were there. You began to tremble.
As if he could read your mind, his pace quickened, stroking you with renewed firmness, pressing down on your clit directly with his thumb, making you see stars. “Greedy,” he chided, his reproach only making you want him more, climbing higher and higher toward your release, flames licking at your core. “How does it feel to be defenseless? Totally at my mercy? Subject to the whims of your master, totally and utterly mine?”
You practically yelled as your body prepared you to cum, muscles tensing, his velvet voice so close to tipping you over the edge.
Then, he stopped.
Stopped point-blank, withdrawing his hands, sitting up, your body humming with broken promises, with betrayal. With wide eyes, you stared at his godly figure, silently beseeching him for an answer, for him to keep touching you, for…anything. You were a sopping mess, a puddle, your clitoris swollen with need. Tears sprung forward, much to your embarrassment. This wasn’t fair. You needed him.
You had apparently become upset presumptuously, because your lover had taken you to the edge and then ceased because he wanted to give you the proper treatment. This became obvious as the clothes on the lower half of his body were shed, you unabashedly reveling in the show, a huge, thick pale cock springing forward from his pants as they crumpled to the floor.
You always wondered how you could take him. Conservatively, he must have been eight inches, and you could barely wrap a hand around his girth. It had taken your breath away the first time you had seen it, one of your sweeter sexual meetups, a drunken encounter after a party, what seemed like ages ago now. It was sweet, him taking the lead, servicing you over and over again being the main event, him whimpering with carnal lust every time you so much as brushed against his length. But sweetness had been gone from your bedroom for a while now. Not that you minded so much. This…was also nice. Your mouth began to salivate staring at his perfect cock, wanting in equal measure for him to be inside of you and to taste him. 
Unfortunately, your master knew you too well, unabashed smarminess plain as day across his face after catching you ogling. He threw his head back to laugh; something you had never heard addressed to you before a few months ago, sadistic and mocking. “My little pet is so terribly desperate for this cock, isn’t that right, darling?” As you moaned your confirmation, he pushed your legs apart, the chill of the castle room whispering on your wet pussy, him smiling as he did so. In fact, he almost looked positively giddy to have you here, with no one to aid you. “Be a good little fuckdoll and take it, hm?”
You weren’t thinking about logistics anymore. You weren’t thinking about whether what he wanted was possible in the first place. All you knew, all you could register, all you could feel, was your body being folded in half, your legs nearly touching your shoulders, and your lover’s strikingly beautiful form above you, like a siren, like original sin himself. 
“Let’s cut the pretense, darling,” he purred, and you could feel him line himself up with your core, your body reading yourself for him, the tip of his cock dancing among your slick folds, your body writhing and spasming with need. “I’m not going to be gentle, nor must I be to give you my most precious gift, my son. You’re going to be stuffed full of my seed by the time I’m done with you, and you’re going to absolutely adore it. Understood?”
Astarion thrust forward, snapping into you, giving you no time to respond, no time to  adjust to his length. A cry escaped your lips, muffled by your makeshift gag; it felt like you were being torn in two, your pussy burning with the stretch of his width inside you, hitting your cervix, the pinch making your recoil. He began ravaging you, hips snapping back and forth, tears now streaming down your face and onto the silk pillows. He had never fucked you this brutally before, pain quickly ebbing into ecstasy as you clenched around his girth, so perfectly full of him.
Your master groaned, low and deep in his throat, eyes fluttering closed. His tough facade was crumbling, desire unmasked at last. “Always…always so fucking tight for me,” he panted, grabbing your chin, ruby eyes captivating yours as he pummeled you. He was a sight to behold, mouth ajar as he drew in breath, fangs glistening in the candlelight, smoldering gaze on your face. “G-gods above.”
The sound of your lover pumping inside of you permeated the stone room as if it were a heartbeat. Your mind spun, unable to focus on anything but the sensation of his cock impaling you, whimpering as he shifted his angle oh-so-slightly and hit your most sensitive spot. He knew how bad you wanted to be put in your place, the way his length dripped with your moisture revealing it, no perception checks necessary. 
“That’s right, darling,” Astarion cooed, recovered from the dominant edge slipping during his entrance, hips bucking faster within you, hammering your sweet spot. Dark spots danced at the edges of your vision. “Tell me, who’s my good little slut?”
Moaning through your gag, your walls eagerly clenched hard around him, feeling as if you were floating through the small pinches in your cervix as he thrust. It was you, you knew it was you, he knew it was you. You were his, mind, body, and soul. You couldn’t put any coherent thoughts together, and all you knew is that you wanted him as deep as he could go. 
He took you like that for a while, until you could feel your release approaching once again, the rhythm of Astarion inside of you so intense now you could barely breathe. Your fingernails dug into his back, earning a sharp hiss from the vampire, who in turn finally tore his eyes away from you to sink his fangs into your neck. Gasping at the sudden ache blossoming through your throat, you lost control. A wave of bliss tumbled through your body as you screamed, your orgasm ripping through you like a trail of fire. Astarion fucked you through it, every thrust to your overstimulated core making you see stars as you felt your blood slip further through his porcelain lips. 
As your climax receded, your vampire drew back, mouth and chin smeared bright crimson. You recalled the first time you had let him feed on you, the night you found out he was a vampire; he was careful, and he knew not to take so much. His face was softer then, a blush of gratitude touching his dialogue. Memories of that first night seemed so far now as you examined the beast before you, all sharp angles and lust.
“Well, isn’t this just perfect,” he sighed. “Thank god you’re so enamored with me. Conceiving is so much easier this way.”
And he began again, thrusting even harder than before. 
You could barely take it, the sensation of his cock burrowing even deeper inside of you, and you became conscious of embarrassingly inhuman noises you were eking out. Astarion gripped your chin, forcing eye contact as he continued to ravage you, minute beads of sweat trailing down his ivory face. Fingers dug into your face as you gazed into the vampire’s eyes, their shade of scarlet deeper than ever, unable to think about anything but his steely regard, futilely attempting to choke out his name. Smirking at your failed attempt, of course he was. He always made you feel so good, and unfortunately, he knew it. 
“Fantastic,” he cooed. “That’s my good fucking girl. You like this, don’t you? To be nothing but a toy for me. To be completely and totally vulnerable…” He hammered into you harder, your entire body nothing but a vessel centered around him, your sex practically chanting his name. His words sent pure shock to your core; resistance was futile and the new gush of wetness between your thighs proved it. Liking it was certainly inside the realm of possibility. Adoring it was far more likely. 
The bed groaned beneath your entangled forms, and your lover leaned in toward you, teeth grazing the top of your ear. “I’m close, my sweet.” And you felt yourself clenching around him much more, body thrumming with the promise of your shared release. 
With a grunt, Astarion dropped his face to ensnare you in a kiss as his warmth flooded into you, thrusting sporadically as he filled you to the brim. “Fuck,” he breathed as he forced himself deeper into you, taking care that none of his seed leaked from your eager hole. “Good girl, take all of it.” 
He grabbed your thighs, forcing your bottom half upwards, cum dripping further down into you, the angle change hammering you right in your most sensitive spot. You cried out as your release hit you like a freight train, muscles melting and becoming liquid, Astarion’s slow deep thrusts prolonging your nirvana. Ripples of adrenaline rushed through you as you felt his release pool in you, knowing undoubtedly that his rough breeding had worked. He decreased his speed until he was at a stop, your legs feeling awfully similar to jelly, as you basked in a combination of afterglow and shock at what had transpired. 
You stayed interlocked and still for a few minutes, your master’s breathing even and heavy, explaining in a whisper that he had to make sure the process was successful. You felt each beat of your heart in your chest, and if you had the privilege of language at the moment, you would have reassured him that your body was most certainly going to house his child. Eventually, he unsheathed himself, letting your hips back down to the four-poster bed, and you watched his statuesque form stand and begin to clean himself. After he had finished, with a smirk he made his way over to you and gently wiped your thighs of his release. 
You could do nothing but watch as he began to dress himself back into the armor he had previously worn, silently wondering if you were going to be let free.
Astarion didn’t even turn around as he spoke to you. “My pet, I think it only fair you remain in this bedroom for as long as it takes to successfully knock you up. I want you nice and helpless against me until I know for certain you’re too dependent on me to go anywhere. Shall we repeat this process…I don’t know…twice a day?”
Twice a day. For as long as it took until he could tell you were pregnant. Verbalizations strained against your gag, but you were completely ignored as Astarion walked out of the room, sealing and locking the door shut behind him.
Pregnancy symptoms could take a hell of a long time to show up. And maybe, even when they did…you could conceal them for a while. 
If it meant being used like this again, you would have done nearly anything. 
403 notes · View notes
babywll · 2 years
Text
She's My Wife — Daemon Targaryen × F!Reader
summary: Daemon can be considered the rogue prince, cruel and greedy. But not when it comes to you
tws: enemies to lovers but he is already in lovers
LOOK AT THIS MAN
part 2 here
Tumblr media
After the queen's death, your sister. You found yourself completely lost, and increasingly pressured to get married. You couldn't think straight, or at least give opinions to the candidates the king put forward. Viserys was being kind, even more so when he didn't send you away. You knew you would have to please him somehow.
Then as if everything had been completed, Daemon appeared, he was the king's first choice, who quickly made it all line up with the two of you betrothed.
You hated the idea, since Prince Daemon had his history, his long and terrible history. You believed you deserved better, but at that moment, you just agreed, you didn't want to be a burden to anyone. He was wanted, no doubt. Many women in the realm wanted to be in your shoes, and you tried to ignore Daemon's bad things.
You got married, and your niece presented you with the Dragonstone. It was a beautiful castle, and you could easily get used to it. Daemon was a mere detail. You assumed he'd be having a lot more fun with his dates and their silly fights. You assumed he wouldn't stay there, with you.
But he became present, and protective. He was always around, and you gradually grew closer. It was just you and him. At some point you stopped trying to pretend you didn't like him. He was quite loving when he wanted to be. And then you realized it was just like that with you.
You thought you'd never see Daemon, the same rogue prince everyone knew, giving you attention and being a great husband. Until four months together you had never touched again after marriage. You didn't get pregnant by choice and things went on with you married, you could maybe one day even become friends. The prince certainly had his means of satisfying himself, then it wouldn't be a problem.
You certainly wouldn't think that things would change, and that this marriage would actually turn into something more.
But you ignored all the signs. Or at least tried.
You had just finished your shower, and you were reading a book before getting ready for bed. You two used not to sleep in the same room, he made a point of asking you as soon you two moved to Dragstone. You decided it was unnecessary to share a room. Until the king found out about it, and sent a letter asking you about the decision. So you guys started sharing a room.
Daemon had been gone for ten days on a mission, you heard he came back in the morning, but so far you hadn't seen each other. The night already prevails for some hours, and none of it appears in your room.
You decided that you would finally check on him in his office. Which was where he was.
You walked the stone corridors with only a silk robe hiding your nearly transparent nightgown. You knocked on the door, and entered when you heard him say. His white hair fell down his neck, he had his head down, looking at papers.
"I thought I'd come see you," you said, and he finally looked in your direction.
Maybe it was just you, the candle lights could be getting in the way. But you were pretty sure you noticed the look he gave your body, he was slowly looking down from your eyes. You crossed your arms over your body. There was no reason, since he's already seen you naked, but still, it made you feel vulnerable.
"I am grateful for your last minute decision" he smiled slightly, and you rolled your eyes "I thought you were already asleep, I didn't want to wake you up so I spent more time here" he relaxed in the chair.
"I was waiting for you" you said, almost as if you were confessing.
A glint appeared in his eyes, he was surely just waiting for the moment when you showed something for him.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner" he got up from his chair and came over to you.
He ran one hand through your loose strand of hair, and you let your face rest on his other hand. Closing your eyes with the feelings of comfort he brought you.
Surrendering completely.
You then realized that you had missed him. You've spent the last few days walking around the castle and getting bored of your own company. He usually tell stories about his adventures, which stole all your attention.
"My beautiful wife" he whispered.
You felt his fingers run through your loose hair. And you felt a shiver run from your head to your feet.
"Did you miss me?"
You opened your eyes, meeting his. A smile hovered over his perfect face, and you felt completely lightened by the feeling he brought.
"Please don't stay away so long" you said softly. He had become a friend, maybe more, but it was something that made you feel good.
"I promise, I already told my brother that I will stay with my lovely wife from now on" his icy hands now cupped your face, and he gently brought his nose closer to yours. Touching it.
Your mouths were almost touching, and your breath was getting heavier with every second he threatened to kiss you. As if asking for permission. When you whispered a yes, he attacked you with a kiss. You reciprocated the same, desperate, completely desperate for his every touch.
And he played it, anyway. He touched your hair, neck, waist, thighs, and arms. Every millimeter he ran his fingers through. While kissing passionately. To some extent you had to stop to catch your breath.
"Let's go to our room.." he said low, but it was almost like a question.
You knew what that meant, and it was just everything you wanted, ever since you did it after the wedding. Daemon had an incredible ability when it came to satisfying, and you felt it in your body. You've had orgasms at least four times. And you've been wishing for it ever since, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise.
"Wait, I need to know, how many have you slept with until today " you took your hands off him, and walked away. You wanted to know.
"How many?" he looked surprised, almost offended by you question "I would never sleep with another woman"
"Don't need to lie Daemon, this seems absurd even to you"
"I'm not lying love" he approached again, and looked deep into your eyes "You were the last I was in bed with, and every time I satisfied myself, it was thinking of you. So just blame me for not being a good husband, and not satisfying you as you deserve"
You were out of breath. You didn't want to think about anything else now, even the question you asked seemed stupid. You actually thought it strange that you hadn't heard any rumors about Daemon being with harlots. But you didn't think that maybe it's because he hasn't actually been.
And he was really telling the truth.
"Tell me what you want" he whispered, his eyes still riveted on you.
"I want you Daemon, always wanted" you confessed.
"You always had me, my dear" he kissed you again, and when he stopped it was to kiss the rest of your face.
"And yes, I want to go to our room" a corner smile appeared on his face, and you already knew that the rest would be even better than on your wedding day.
_
I'm too lazy to write smut, and this is definitely going to be part two. I didn't proofread so sorry for any mistakes.
6K notes · View notes
Text
Touching [K. B.]
Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
word count: 4k
summary: you and Kaz share physical contact for the first time
warnings: established relationship, trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej, and I don't even know where the hell this is located in canon (just imagine that the problem at the end of the series never happened) oh and Imogen's name appears in books according to google
taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas
Tumblr media
Kaz Brekker could swear that he would faint at any moment as he climbed the stairs to his room, the cane in his left hand being the only impediment for this to happen. That day he had to leave the Slat to attend to some business that was complicated by the march and resulted in a physical altercation. Fortunately he hadn't been hurt, but he couldn't say the same for the other men.
Before opening the door, he let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, mentally reviewing the pending documents that he would surely have to review the next day, but when he entered the room, his entire train of thoughts was overwhelmed by a presence in the place.
It was you, who was sitting in his desk chair with a book in your hands, from which you looked up when you heard that he had entered. You were already wearing a faded nightgown to sleep in and your features showed tiredness, but also calm.
"Hi," you said straightening up. Kaz felt your mere presence light up the entire room and his shoulders relaxed as you spoke.
"Hello" he replied with a hint of a smile. Without saying anything he went ahead until he reached the bed and you followed him with your eyes, turning in the chair to face him.
“Is it okay if I stay here? I'm sorry I didn't ask you before”
"It’s okay" he replied quietly.
It had been a couple of months since you and Kaz had decided… how shall I put it? Try to have a relationship. You had always been firm in the idea of conquering Kaz Brekker, even with his bad reputation and his difficult nature, since you joined the crows, a few years ago. He never understood why you did it, even feeling suffocated by your attentions, but over time (and after a lot of effort) he began to feel affection for you and eventually he came as close as he could feel to love. He began to care for you, to enjoy your company, and to feel nervous whenever he looked at you, which Nina helped him interpret as a crush.
You trusted that, despite his short temper, Kaz had a good heart and he had shown that more than once. You had never received mistreatment from him (beyond his typical responses towards others), he defended all the members of your group tooth and nail and he was firm in his ideals. Yes, of course he was a criminal, a gambler, and sometimes a murderer, but you knew that he was neither the only nor the worst in The Barrel. Besides, his motives were valid… most of the time.
So it was that a few months ago, during a drunken night, you two confessed your feelings. You were too cheerful to think about what you were saying and it was inevitable that the words slipped out of your mouth like water from a river. Kaz wasn't drunk enough to stop understanding what you were saying and you have a vague recollection that he just put you to sleep and didn't say anything. But hours later, when Jesper had personally taken it upon himself to push the black-haired man to his drinking limits, he burst into your room and only told you that he liked you too. Of course, in the morning the hangover was accompanied by guilt and when you sought him out to apologize, you were surprised that he hadn't felt offended and hadn't taken back his words either. You concluded that maybe the alcohol had given both of you the courage you needed and that was okay.
For a few days the matter remained like this, but then Kaz made an appointment with you in his office and steeling himself with courage, he told you about his interest in having something with you, but warning you that, considering all his characteristics, he was possibly not the best option and what should you look for someone better if you wanted it that way. But you wanted to try things and even more so if he had been the one who proposed it.
You were patient the whole time and gave Kaz the space he needed. Sometimes you just spent time in his office, in silence, and watching him work was satisfying enough. Little by little he allowed you to enter more spaces of his daily life and although you had kept the relationship private, suspicions arose one morning when you left his room and Nina, probably the gossipiest of your friends, saw you.
A couple of times you had held his hand over his gloves and once you had kissed his cheek, only because he was too asleep to notice. It was slow progress, but you could live with it.
Now you were trying to sleep together. You'd obviously replaced Kaz’s thin mattress with a larger one and figured out a way to make it work; between him and you, you placed a line of pillows so that you avoided physical contact. Simple but effective.
"How was it?"
“It could have been better”
"You should rest" you suggested, analyzing how bad he had been after the fight that he surely had. There were no visible bumps or scratches, thankfully.
"Yeah, I will" he replied very vaguely. You saw him look up a little at you and you wondered what he was looking for "What were you reading?"
“Huh, a book that Jesper won in a bet. It is the story of a warrior princess who has to defend her kingdom”
"Sounds nice" he exclaimed. There was the beginning of a smile gracing his face and you didn't think he was aware of it, but he'd been doing it for the past couple of weeks every time you talked to him about something. Every time you spoke, simply.
"It is," you said happily. Kaz had already made a mental note about your fascination with literature, and at the next heist he planned to keep a couple of books for you, if the opportunity arose.
You wanted to continue talking to him, but the truth was that you were only waiting for him to arrive to sleep and you were sure that, although he wouldn’t admit it, Kaz needed rest as much as you did. That's why you got up from the chair and before he said anything else you sat on the bed, next to him.
"I'm tired" you murmured, making a tiny pout and watching him with tender eyes. He was very handsome, you thought of that whenever you saw him.
"Lie back, while I organize some things"
"Come on, Kaz" you complained, b because you knew these activities could last hours and he deprived himself of sleep to finish them "Tomorrow you can do it, sleep with me" you insisted, stretching out your hand until you reached his. He was wearing the gloves and your fingers slipped under his, only taking the tips around your hand.
Both of your gazes landed there, you wondering what it would feel like to hold Kaz’s hand without the leather in between and him admiring the difference in size between your hands and his. You had them damaged around the nails and the skin marked with a few moles, but for him they were perfect. When you started to move your thumb from side to side he looked up, noticing that his eyelids were already weighing you down, and he sighed. For some time now he hasn't been able to say no to anything you ask of him, much less when you look so delicate and hold his hand.
"Okay, go to sleep then"
You suppressed a smile, without much success, and watched him remove several layers of clothing to only be left with his shirt and pants. You had never seen him naked, and you doubted very much that you would soon, but you liked the lightness that appeared in him when he was left with few clothes. As if by taking them off he was also abandoning all the problems that he accumulated during the day.
You carefully slid to your side of the bed, against the wall, and made sure the pillow divider was in place. He kept you company moments after turning off the lamp.
"Good night," you said kindly. Whenever you stayed there you wanted to tell him that you loved him before going to bed, but the intention never materialized. The first few times Kaz was very tense and hardly slept, although by this point he had gotten used to it and he was handling it well; even he would say that he rested more knowing that you kept him company.
"Sweet dreams," he said, with a gentle tone that took you by surprise. You were internally grateful that the room was dark or he would have seen your flushed face.
It didn't take long for you to give up, but Kaz, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't fall asleep. Although having you by his side had relaxed him a lot, for a couple of days there was a matter interrupting his thoughts and it was related to the dreams that had come to replace his habitual nightmares.
In all of them you were the protagonist and he... touched you. In every possible way and every sense of the word, as if it were something natural that didn’t take any effort. At first he was terrified of how real the dreams felt, almost swearing that the night before he had passionately kissed you only to realize that you were still on the other side of that fence of pillows you had placed for his comfort. Kaz had wanted to ignore all of this, but each time these thoughts became more frequent and stronger: What would it feel like to hug you? And accommodate your hair? Would he be able to caress you as he knew you wanted and deserved?
The black-haired man could be evil at times and he seemed unaffected by anything, but the insecurities and fears inside him were bigger than anyone could imagine. Even the day you confessed to him that you liked him, he feared that you were lying or that it was just drunken incoherence.
So now that a few months had passed he felt he had to offer you at least some physical contact or else you'd end up getting bored of him like Imogen once had. But that was another story.
Kaz was startled when he heard you complain and looked silently in your direction, but it turned out that you weren't awake, you had only changed position. From that angle he could see the whole silhouette of your body and part of your face, even more peaceful when you were asleep, everything so beautiful that he wondered how you could be real and especially because you were sharing a room with a person like him. 
His hands didn't have gloves on and even though they had been at his sides the whole time, he felt the urge to move them away. He wondered what it would feel like to touch your skin or if he would actually be able to do it without panicking and as the desire was greater than the fear, without giving it much thought he reached out his arm towards you, preparing to touch your bare forearm. He breathed once, then twice, and finally, he did.
He had to remind himself that your skin wasn’t that of some wet corpse and for this he concentrated on how it really felt; it was warm and soft. His hand trembled on your body and he feared to wake you, but even with this he didn't move away. He didn't know how long it was before he was able to breathe normally, but once he did he waved his hand a couple of times and if you had been awake you would have been amazed at the gentleness with which he did it.
Kaz pulled away a few seconds later, seized with the sudden strange feeling that he couldn't leave him so easily, and with an angry huff he jumped up to wash his hands. He wanted to change and improve for you, but it was complicated and it frustrated him.
Either way, he was thankful that you hadn't seen his experiment and concluded that it was better, so he could move at his own pace. When he lay down again he kept looking at you, taking the opportunity to reflect on the matter, until his body couldn't take it anymore and the unconsciousness of the dream ended up consuming him completely.
And of course, he dreamed of you again.
Tumblr media
The days passed as normal and life at The Barrel continued as usual. The crow club was in full swing after the renovations Kaz had done, almost a year ago now, and there was more work than ever. Jesper and Wylan always went everywhere together and the girls at The Menagerie were great with attention, but it still seemed like it was never enough. Nina and Matthias weren't very active members and Inej's visits weren't as frequent now that she led a life at sea. You were in charge of supervising several of the things, on behalf of your boyfriend, and sometimes you also served drinks. The club had gone from being the favorite place for seedy drunkards to a refined place where more and more people came to gamble and have fun. Of course more visits meant more money and you knew that made the owner happy, but it also loaded him with work.
"Knock, knock," you said happily, as you peeked out of his office door, tray in hand. Kaz raised his head from the papers with the accounts he was reviewing and met you "I brought you dinner"
"Dinner?"
“Yes, it is one of the three meals of the day. It's important and you always forget about it" you explained, placing a plate in front of him that contained some cookies, and bread and leaving a cup of coffee without sugar next to it "I didn't know what you might be craving, so I brought something light"
“Thank you,” he said as he watched you drop into an adjoining chair, your own mug of hot chocolate in hand.
"How is everything going?"
"Okay, I'm still missing a couple of things"
"Do you want me to go?"
"No" he replied. How could you think of that? Of course he wanted you there.
During these weeks you had noticed Kaz a little strange, as if he was suddenly more condescending or permissive with you, but you enjoyed these changes. You couldn't know it, but he had been running little experiments like the one he did when you were sleeping. When you were interrupting the path he needed to travel, he would move you to the side at the waist, when you sat next to each other at crow meetings, he would link his knee to yours, and you caught him picking some rubbish out of your hair more than once. So you, too, had begun looking for more intimate ways to engage with him, like taking him out to dinner after a tiring day, curious as to how far he would let you go.
You made small talk about trivial matters and took the opportunity to make sure he consumed some of what you brought him, which he did with pleasure.
When you finished Kaz went back to his work and you decided that it was better to occupy yourself with something else, preferably quietly so as not to interrupt him. Your visits to his study were almost always like this, so you already had some things for your entertainment in a drawer. You pulled out a puzzle that you and Inej used to put together all the time and spread it out on the floor, sitting in a lotus position in front of it, willing to be at it for a while.
But on that particular day he couldn't focus on anything but you. Out of the corner of his eye, he would catch a glimpse of your attentive frown and your hands tapping the floor impatiently for not finding the right pieces, finding both quite adorable.
All day he had been seriously thinking about making a risky move and now that the opportunity presented itself he felt more nervous than he had imagined, so he kept silent for a long time where you didn't even notice the crisis internal he was having.
"Kiss me"
The words were spoken so quietly and hastily that you feared you had hallucinated them and your neck might have snapped from the quickness with which you looked up at him.
"Did you say something?"
"Kiss me" he repeated, loud and clear so that this time there would be no doubt of what he was saying. You felt that your heart was going to jump out of your chest due to the astonishment that such a sudden request produced in you. Kaz was asking you for a kiss? Impossible.
You were stunned for a few seconds, looking directly into those sky-colored eyes that were waiting for an answer. What kind of kiss was he asking you? It was like a kiss on his cheek or… on his lips perhaps? Why was he asking you that in the first place? And why had he thrown it at you just like that?
"If you don't want to, that's fine," he added, with a disappointed tone, and you jumped to your feet as soon as you heard that.
"No, no. I was just... surprised, that's all" you explained, completely nervous, because you didn't want him to regret it.
You walked up to face him and the height difference forced Kaz to look down at you with doe eyes you never imagined he could have and didn't even know he was aware of. He felt slightly intimidated, more by the situation itself than by you, and one of his hands went directly to hold the wood of the chair to try to calm down.
You took a deep breath and looked closely at the black-haired man's face, thinking about which part of his face would be more suitable for kissing; the skin on his cheeks? His forehead? Or go once and for all for those thin pink lips?
When you crouched down he held his breath and you saw him tense when you got closer to his face, but you still continued because you knew he would mark the limit, if there was one. You closed your eyes and finally closed the distance, pressing your lips against his for just a second. Your stomach turned and when you straightened up your cheeks were flushed crimson, but it worried you that Kaz hadn't flinched. You would even say that he seemed to be angry.
"Give me a proper kiss"
You felt your legs shake and you thought you were going to faint right there after hearing him. He wasn't even asking, he was demanding it. Kaz was practically yelling at you that he was going to settle for the simple lip brush you just gave him, he wanted more.
You were a mess at the thought of him wanting to take such a big step, but you tried your best to hold it back and nodded softly at him. A proper kiss would require more than just you standing in front of him, so you sat on Kaz’s lap, who nearly squealed in surprise.
"If you want to stop, just say so" you warned him. But you had already gone too far, he didn't want to stop and of course you didn't either.
Your feet dangled over the side of the chair and you made yourself more comfortable resting your hands on his clothed shoulders, hoping that with that separation of cloth Kaz would feel less uncomfortable, until your face was right in front of his.
There was so much fear in his eyes that you wanted to walk away, but you knew that with that you would spoil all the effort he was making and you feared that he would be offended to the point of not wanting to kiss you anymore.
You would be lying when you said that you didn’t want it, that you didn’t long for to finally be able to know what his kisses would taste like and thus be able to alleviate the knot in your stomach that you had since that party night when you confessed your love, so without more or less you leaned a little and then you kissed him.
At first it was a mere assumption, but when you felt how tense he was you knew that he had never kissed anyone in his life. You could feel his panic through the trembling sighs that escaped him, but you didn't give up for a second from your task.
"Relax your lips" you said, separating yourself enough centimeters to be able to articulate the words "And the shoulders too" you continued, stroking that section with both hands to help it a little "Just focus on how it feels"
Your whispers sounded like spells to him as if they were instructions to follow to achieve the happiness he so wanted and didn't know how to obtain.
You tried again and since he followed your advice the contact was more fluid. Suddenly all negative feelings were replaced by the pleasure of savoring your lips, still with the flavor of the impregnated chocolate, and of feeling your warm body so close to his. There were no traumatic memories because he had never kissed anyone before Jordie’s death, nor since. It was something new, different, and it was also unique because it was you who was there.
He began to pay more attention to details and enjoyed the way your lips caught one of his, so subtly that he could barely identify it, or how your hands had already gone up to his neck to hold it. Kaz’s gloved hands moved almost by themselves to your waist and it was your turn to hold your breath, probably under the impression that he had done something like that.
You cut off the kiss, but then another followed, and when that one ended another came. Suddenly everyone was down to you and Kaz having a little make-out session in his office, a moment he never wanted to end. Maybe it was the sensation of trying something forbidden, but you felt that the man's kisses had the most intoxicating flavor on the entire planet, as if everything you had ever enjoyed was nothing compared to that. And he couldn't do anything more than practically melt under your caresses and let you do whatever you wanted with him.
For some reason Kaz was finally overwhelmed by the contact, but instead of throwing you out of there he pulled you away with his grip on your waist, calm and gentle.
"It’s enough" he whispered. It wasn't because he wasn't enjoying it, but because he knew better than anyone that you couldn't give yourself completely to life’s pleasures or they would end up consuming you from the roots.
He didn't want to open his eyes for fear that it was all another one of those dreams and also to somehow extend the sensation as much as possible, but you didn't want to do anything but look at him. He was breathing heavily and the usual paleness of his skin had been replaced by a vermilion hue and to your surprise his hands hadn't left the position they were in, which you took as a sign that he still wanted you sitting on his legs.
“Are… are you okay?” you asked cautiously, knowing that closed eyes and heavy breathing were also symptoms of a panic attack that you definitely didn't want to happen.
"No” you barely had time to worry and think about what you could do before you heard a soft laugh. Kaz Brekker was laughing “Oh my gosh of course I'm not okay. You're driving me completely crazy” he responded and managed to make the phrase sound like a claim and a compliment at the same time.
"Was it that bad?"
"It was perfect. You are” he confessed and you exhaled a nervous laugh, feeling as foolish as a girl in love. Both of your hands were planted on his chest, so you started to play with a button on his shirt to try to calm your emotions.
“I'm glad you… huh, that we could share this. I really wanted to kiss you” you dared to tell him.
Although he was apparently calm, the truth was that he was having a hard time not separating from you, but the only reason he hadn't was because of the loving and happy expression that was on your face, which probably, to a lesser extent, he also had.
"Me too" he assured you, with that little smile you had already begun to love.
And that kiss represented the beginning of a path that Kaz was willing to walk, as difficult as it was, only for the promise that at the end of the day it would all be worth it if you were the one waiting for him. 
2K notes · View notes
pinksturniolo · 21 days
Text
If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part Two
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader
Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.
Content warnings (not in every part): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, use of alcohol
matt being a dirty little simp in this part 👀
word count: 4,260
Matt’s POV
I thought about her all fucking night long, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face and remembering the way her lips tasted on mine. I tossed and turned, the tent in my sweatpants growing, my dick so hard it was painful, until I found myself pulling them down in a haste and thrusting into my hand only to cum a mere 60 seconds later all over my stomach.
To be honest, that wasn’t the first time I touched myself to the thought of Y/N.
But now that I knew the feeling of her kiss, finally able to lay my hands on the soft skin of her waist, and hear her moan…
I could easily jerk off again to the thought of it, already feeling my self grow hard for the second time.
But I needed more, I craved more.
I feared that she wouldn’t talk to me after that kiss, that maybe I crossed the line. But I also didn’t regret it. The tension between us had been building for a while and I wanted her more than anything.
Boyfriend or no boyfriend.
When I first met her, I was attracted right away. My heart sank when Mark introduced her as his girlfriend. She had this magnetic energy I was drawn to, and a smile that made my heart race in my chest. She spoke with confidence and was naturally funny without even trying. The more she came around, the more positive things I noticed about her, and I couldn’t help myself from staring at her when she talked, or walked, or did anything really.
I felt like an idiot for falling for a girl I had only known for a couple months, no less a girl that was with one of my best friends. Mark was a decent guy and he seemed to really like her. At first. But there was just no chemistry there, and anyone with a working brain could see that there wasn’t much of a connection. Sure, they looked good together but that’s all it was.
I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself though, being respectful and polite when they were around. Whenever it was just her at the house without Mark, she seemed more comfortable and would joke around more. I found myself looking forward to the weekends when she would come and just hang out, sometimes spending the night in Nick’s room.
But when I was alone, thoughts of her lips, her eyes, her body consumed me. More than often, I gave into my needs, my fist wrapped around my cock, moaning out her name, panting and sweating until I came in my hand. I just couldn’t help myself when it came to her. No other girl piqued my interest, and it frustrated me to no end because I couldn’t do anything about it.
If I made a move on her, she would without a doubt reject me. That would be cheating. I couldn’t talk to my brothers about it because they would think I’m insane for sure. I’m sure they noticed that I felt some type of way though, always making suggestive comments and giving me suspicious looks when she was around.
There was one night when I thought maybe, just maybe she might feel the same way I did. We had all gone out that day to random places in the city, thrifting and just walking around. Once the sun started to set, we decided to drive back to the house and watch a movie on the couch like usual.
 It was just me and her, sitting in the car and waiting for Chris and Nick while they were in the gas station getting snacks. She looked out the passenger window, the look on her face like she was deep in thought. The little scrunch in her eyebrows and the way her bottom lip stick out slightly whenever she was zoned out like that was incredibly cute to me.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, causing her to break her focus and look over to me, her expression sheepish.
“Oh, nothing important.” she replied, shaking her head with a small smile and looking down at her lap.
“Don’t do that.” I spoke.
“Do what?” She said, looking back up at me.
“You always brush off personal questions. Like you’re afraid to open up.”
She chuckled. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking about.” She looked back out the window, a suggestive tone in her voice, making me even more curious.
“Try me.”
A few seconds of silence passes.
“Have you ever had a secret Matt? Like a secret you couldn’t tell anyone?” She turns towards me.
“Yeah, sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No, I mean like a secret so bad, it would change everything. Even hurt someone?”
“…..Okay do I need to be worried?”
She laughs, a sound I could never get tired of. My heart starts to race at what secret she could possibly be talking about, and the look on her face is unreadable.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be dramatic. I just… I have a secret that I haven’t talked about with anyone, not even Mark…. especially not Mark.”
“Are you okay? Like, he’s not doing anything bad is he-“
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s… something I did that’s bad.”
Her eyes are filled with desperation as she looks at me, like she’s terrified of what I’m going to say.
I grab her hand instinctively, and the feeling of her skin against mine is amazing. It’s a simple act, but it elicits a fire within me.
“What could you possibly do that’s so bad? I won’t judge you, I promise.” I tell her.
The eye contact is driving me insane, the tension in the car now thick as she squeezes my hand.
“That’s the thing Matt… I’m scared you will.”
Before she can say anything more, the back door opens, and Nick and Chris come climbing in.
She drops my hand and turns back to face the front of her seat, making my heart sink.
Chris opens his bag of chips, immediately chewing obnoxiously while Nick thumps on the back of my seat. “Come on, Matt! I got ice cream, and I don’t want it to melt!”
I roll my eyes, and sigh heavily, backing out of the parking lot.
“What’s up his ass?” Nick asks, looking at Y/N. She simply shrugs, looking out the window again, silent for the rest of the car ride.
She never brought up the conversation again, even making an excuse to leave that night instead of watching the movie with us. I felt horrible, like I upset her in some way. After that night, she started to be distant and her visits less and less frequent.
Until eventually, she stopped coming at all. Every time one of us would call or text her to ask where she was or what was wrong, she either answered with an extremely dry response or didn’t even bother to answer at all.
Chris and Nick constantly bombarded me with questions, asking what the fuck happened in the car that night and I just told them I had no clue, never mentioning her “secret.” Whenever Mark came around, it only annoyed me, having to see his face instead of hers.
He acted like it didn’t really matter if she was there or not, which aggravated me. He avoided questions of where or how she was. He seemed to have the time of his life without her around. I could tell he never appreciated her, never took care of her the way she actually deserved, and most likely didn’t satisfy her in the way she needed.
I knew it was wrong, but I started to despise my best friend. I felt like a jealous teenager in high school again, but I just couldn’t get her out of my thoughts, especially now that I had no clue as to why she stopped coming around. I constantly thought about our last conversation, and if her big secret had anything to do with me.
Why else would she bring it up to me? I started to obsess over it, over her. Thoughts and pictures of her while I touched myself in my bed, in the shower, fuck, even on the couch when no one was home, wasn’t enough. It was pathetic. I needed to see her.
It was 2 a.m., the moon hung brightly in the sky, illuminating the dark night. There weren’t many people out on the streets, and I had the car windows rolled down, the brisk spring air feeling cool against my face.
I’m not sure what the fuck I was doing, all I knew, was that I couldn’t sit at home anymore. I originally intended to go for a night drive to clear my head, but instead, I found myself driving to her house.
I’m not even sure what I planned on doing when I got there. I couldn’t tell her I was coming, given the fact that my calls were currently going straight to her voicemail, and I for damn sure wasn’t going to knock on her door. She definitely didn’t want to see me if she couldn’t even bother to answer the phone.
So, I awkwardly parked across the street from her apartment complex. The light in her bedroom window shone, and I could see clearly into it because her curtains were open. Her apartment was on the first floor, near the street, a couple trees surrounding it but if you were in the right spot, you could see most of the room.
I had only been over a couple times, with my brothers and Jackson when we decided to have movie night there. It was always a running joke how easily someone could spy on her if she left her curtains open, and now here I was, doing the exact same thing.
She sat on her bed, her lugs tucked under her, computer on her lap. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, her pajamas on. She looked content, focused on whatever she was working on.
I felt like such a fucking creep.
If Chris and Nick knew what I was currently doing, they would have me taken away to the loony bin in a strait jacket for sure.
I convinced myself this was insane and was about to drive away when I saw Mark enter through her bedroom door, and she got up, setting her computer down and putting her arms around him in a hug. His hands wrapped around her waist, nuzzling his head into her neck.
My heart raced in my chest, my cheeks flushing at seeing them together. The anger was radiating off me as I watched them embrace for a few more seconds and then kiss, moving down to her bed. It was like watching a car crash, it was horrible, but I couldn’t look away.
He lay down next to her, holding her while she laid her head on his chest. I could still see her face.
She looked happy.
I never drove off so fast in my life. I couldn’t bear to watch one more second and I felt disgusting for even intruding on her private moment like that.
It was hard to sleep that night, my mind racing with thoughts of his hands on her, touching her in the ways I so desperately wanted.
As crazy as it was, I found myself going back a few more times, on the nights where I just couldn’t get her off my mind. Thankfully, he wasn’t there, and I would stay for a few minutes, just watching while she worked, read or scrolled aimlessly on her phone. She looked so beautiful, and all I wanted was to be there with her, even if it meant sitting in my car across the street like an absolute maniac.
And to my surprise when she finally came over again after three excruciating long weeks, I couldn’t just tell her I had been stalking her at least once a week. But her body language and the way she got so nervous when I asked her why she had been ignoring me, made it click in my head. The tension between us, and the night she brought up a “secret.” She had to have feelings like I did.
So, I had to confront her, and when she kissed me back, it only confirmed to me what she felt.
But that had been a week ago, and I was back to pining over her, not hearing from her since then.
Until Jackson called on a Friday night, asking me and Nick to come over to her house where they were having game night. Chris had left earlier that day for plans he had made with some of his friends.
As we pulled into her apartment complex, it was embarrassing how excited I was to see her again. I knew I had to get her alone somehow and talk to her about last week.
Nick knocked on the door, it opening to reveal her behind it, looking gorgeous as ever. Her hair was down, her natural curls falling, and she was in a pair of tiny shorts and a plain tank top, a bright smile on her face and her cheeks tinted with a light blush when she saw me.
God, I wanted nothing more then to pin her against the wall right now, ripping off those shorts she was teasing me with and tell her all the ways I could ruin her.
My dick was already straining in my pants as we walked in, sitting around her kitchen table. I forced myself to calm down, thinking of sad puppies and make a wish kids.
There was already a game of Uno started when we joined in and Nick immediately announced he would win, causing Jackson to get serious. They were annoyingly competitive.
It was hard to focus on the game though, as Y/N was staring at me, teeth sinking into her bottom lip like she was contemplating something. I tried really hard to participate, but I felt my self-resolve slipping as I stared back, letting my eyes roam over her body. Her bare thighs squished together on the chair, her shirt riding up slightly, showing the skin of her hips.
It took everything in me not to audibly groan, the desire coursing through my veins. I had to figure out a way to get her alone, and my thoughts continued to wander when I heard her voice pull me back to reality. “Matt?”
My head snapped up, and her eyebrows were raised in expectation, everyone now looking at me.
“Yeah?” I asked, realizing I was too in my head earlier to hear her the first time.
“I said, I need to talk to you.” She replied, getting up from the table and setting her cards down. She walked to her room and my heart jumped as I got up as well, following her.
“Anyways…. Where were we...” I heard Nick say to Jackson, his voice fading as I stepped into her room down the hall, shutting the door behind me.
She stood a few feet away from me as I stayed near the door, unsure if I should move any closer. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Finally, she spoke, her voice a little shaky. “Matt, I want to talk about what happened.”
“Okay.” I say, gaining the courage to move towards her and her arms are down by her side, clutching onto the hem of her shorts nervously.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea… I mean- obviously, it’s not.” She says and I now stand a few inches from her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating between us.
“It’s not.” I reply and her eyes flicker from mine to my lips. I can see the black of her pupils expanding, the pulse in her neck jumping.
“And I want to do the right thing…” she continues, and I can’t help but attach my hands to her hips, like they have a mind of their own, causing her to pause in her words.
My thumbs brush over the bare skin there between her shirt and her shorts, rubbing mindless circles. The energy bouncing back and forth is almost too intense, our faces now dangerously close.
“Y/N. There’s absolutely nothing wrong you can do in my eyes.” I tell her and she sighs, her breath fanning against my lips, her arms now coming up to wrap around my neck, her body relaxing into me.
There’s a lot that needs to be said, feelings to unpack, and things we need to discuss. I know that. She knows that. But right now, in this moment, the only thing I can think about, the only thing I can feel is her.
“Just let me show you, please. Let me make you feel good, Y/N.” I breathe, tightening my hands around her waist and she crashes her lips onto mine, tongues meshing and teeth clashing as we kiss for the second time, even more desperate than the last.
Our lips move in sync, smacking sounds filling the room. Her hands tug on my hair as I pull her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking, and she moans into my mouth. I trail my lips down her jaw, onto her neck, breathing in her scent. “You smell so fucking good.” I say, holding her even tighter to me and I feel her nipples harden through her shirt as I suck on her neck harshly, flicking my tongue after to soothe it, leaving the beginning of bruises on her soft skin.
I hope he fucking sees them.
“Matt…” She whimpers, pulling on my hair again, making me groan against her. I’ve never been harder than I am right now, her sounds and smell intoxicating, the feeling of her supple hips in my hands. I grip them, moving her to the bed and hover on top of her, attaching my lips to hers once more.
I rest most of my weight on my arm on one side of her, the other placed gently on the side of her neck. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I grind down on her, the friction making us both moan out.
“Matt, the door.” She says breathlessly, panting against my mouth as we continue to grind on each other, the feeling too good to stop. At this point, anyone could interrupt us.
“Mm, you scared, baby? Scared someone’s gonna walk in and see what I’m doing to you?” I tease, my hand running down her chest, grazing over the valley of her breasts and resting on her stomach, right above her shorts.
She moans at my words, and I smirk, leaning down to whisper in her ear while my hand continues to explore her body, massaging her tits and running over her curves. “You like that? Does it feel good knowing I finally get you all to myself?”
“Fuck, Matt...” She sighs, her nails digging into my shoulder. The way she says my name alone could make me cum in my pants, but I want nothing more than to make her scream it, burying my cock deep inside her. “I bet you’re soaking.” I say, running my hand down to her shorts, unbuttoning them. She bites her lip in anticipation and bucks her hips up. I pin them down, making her stay still.
“Be a good girl for me, yeah?” I tell her, and the submissive look in her eyes has my cock throbbing.
She nods, and I slide her shorts off, exposing her red cotton panties. There’s a visible wet spot forming, and I groan aloud from the sight. I slide down the bed a little bit, positioning myself lower, my shoulders between her legs, spreading them open for me. I look up at her before I continue, and there’s nothing but lust in her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and lips swollen.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Is this okay? Can I take these off?” I ask her, placing my hands around the hem of her panties.
“Yes, please.” She says sweetly, making my heart ache in my chest. I waste no time sliding them off her, discarding them on the floor and she whines at the cool air now exposing her. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, admiring her. She’s perfect, better than I ever imagined, and I spread her folds, applying a light pressure as I slick my fingers through her wetness. She moans loudly and moves her hips again, squirming from my touch.
I grab them roughly, pinning her down once more and she whines when I remove my fingers from her. “Shhh, you have to be quiet baby. Can you do that for me?” She groans softly and nods her head, closing her eyes and laying her head back. I know at any moment, Nick or Jackson could walk in or hear the sinful acts I’m about to do to her, but I simply don’t give a fuck. I didn’t want to put her in that situation, yet the thrill of it turned me on more than anything.
“Uh uh. Keep your eyes on me. You look away or make one noise and I stop. You understand?” I demanded, pressing my hands into her thighs firmly, holding her open for me. She snaps her head up and sits up to rest on her elbows, licking her lips and nodding her head. The smirk on her face drives me crazy.
“Yes, Matt. I’ll be good.” She says and an idea suddenly sparks in my head when I see a tie on her bedside table. It must be Mark’s. My ego swells as I snatch it, her eyes widening when I stuff it in her mouth, tying the back of it around her head.
“Is that okay?” I confirm and she nods, biting down on the tie. I take my place back down between her thighs, laying on the bed and run two fingers up and down her slit before pushing it into her slowly. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” I moan, mesmerized at the sight of her wet hole squeezing around my fingers. She was already dripping, the sounds of her arousal echoing through the room as I started to pump them in and out of her.
She breathes hard through her nose, her eyes threatening to roll back in her head as I watch her, thrusting my fingers a few times before I pull them out and replace it with my tongue, tasting her for the first time.
She tasted incredible, a taste I could get addicted to. I massage her gummy walls, burying my face as deep in her pussy as I could, my thumb making small, tight circles on her clit. I hear her whine softly and one of her hands comes up to pull on my hair, making me moan against her.
 I move faster, my hands now gripping her hips as I let her ride my tongue. She’s so fucking hot and I can’t help but thrust down into her mattress, the feeling of her body unravelling and shaking beneath me.
I thrust my fingers back into her, pressing against the spongy spot as I curl them, and she moans lightly, her face contorted in pleasure, tears forming in her eyes from the frustration. “Are you close baby?” I say and she nods feverishly, her eyes desperate, and drool starting to pool down her chin form the tie in her mouth. “Its okay, sweetheart, you can lay back. Let me take care of it.”
She collapses on the bed, my fingers moving at a faster pace now, and throws her head back in ecstasy, small moans escaping her. I press my lips around her clit and suck, her back arching off the bed. She clenches around my fingers, whining frantically as she’s seconds away from her release.
“You’re doing so good for me... I want you to cum on my fingers, you can do it baby.” I praise and seconds later her arousal leaks out, dripping down my hand, my fingers still moving as she orgasms, panting relentlessly and I press light kisses on her inner thigh.
Holy shit, why didn’t I ever do this before? If I get the chance to do more, I’ll never stop.
Her legs are shaking as I pull my fingers out, massaging her with my other hand as she catches her breath. I sit up and help her take off the tie, smoothing her hair back from her face, and kiss her.
“Oh my god, Matt…” She starts, and I hold her face in my hands, looking into her eyes but before she can continue, there’s a knock on the door.
“Matthew! What the fuck is taking so long?! We’ve played literally 8 rounds of Uno already!!” Nick shouts and she laughs, her face reddening in embarrassment.
She gets up to clean herself before I can even help her and gets dressed. Suddenly I’m pulled back into reality, our little bubble of pleasure bursted. My heart sinks when I’m reminded, she’s not mine. We’ve only dug ourselves deeper into this hole we’ve created.
But as me and Nick drive back to the house later, all I can think about is when and how I can get my hands on her again.
a/n: the dots are connecting…. the plot is PLOTTING
also, sorry if the time jumps back and forth between parts confuse you guys, i just thought it would make it more interesting to introduce both of their povs
taglist: (thank you to everyone who requested, commented and liked, i appreciate each and every single one!!!!! 🩷🩷🩷) if i forgot anyone please lmk!
@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @junovrsmp4 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @stingerayyy2 @glassesmattsbae @eryismum
200 notes · View notes
genshin-side-piece · 8 months
Text
Love Me Tender
Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry), my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI
Maybe OOC for him? It's hard to say.
Tumblr media
Neuvillette's favorite time to be with you is in the dead of night. He enjoys the days, in the sense that he enjoys being near you. Watching you from across the room did bring a sense of comfort from the knowledge that you were safe in his care, but that was all. He garnered no satisfaction in it, not when he ached to be so much closer to you than what he is allowed to be. You denied him that. Despite you being in his home, in his care, you denied him the right to be next to or close to you. He was only ever allowed to be near and even that had not come easily. It was the one concession you had made after doing all you could to avoid him.
In the past, outside of meals, you had always left the room the second he would appear. It was in vain of course. Neuvillette would follow you, like a loyal dog follows its master. His eyes fixed on your form, dutifully watching your every move. Room to room, hallway to hallway, until he finally cornered you in a space where you could not escape. From there he would take his appointed place near the door, keeping you where he wanted you until it was time to change for dinner or on the rarest of rare things, he allowed you to take dinner in your room before going to bed early. It had gone on from the day you had entered his house, lasting for months on end. You would run and he would chase. Oddly, he found it fun. The concept of chasing or hunting you awoke something dormant in him. An instinct that had long been buried due to its lack of use. It became a game between you, a battle of wills to see if he could trap you or if you could manage to get away. You never did of course. He had the upper hand when it came to his hunting grounds. If he wanted you in a particular room or to travel a specific path, he knew which keys to hide and which doors to lock beforehand to get you to go the way he intended. 
His favorite place to keep you was his study. Unlike the other spaces in his house, the study was on the smaller side. His desk dominated most of the space in the room, leaving either a small sofa or a chair beside him as your only two choices if you wished to sit. Any of the other options you had tried, like the corner that was furthest from him, were automatically dismissed. Seeing you was a luxury he could rarely afford. While he enjoyed his hunts, Neuvillette preferred not to waste what time he did have with you moving furniture every time he wished to see your face. His one insistence on the matter had been that you make a choice between resting by his side or the sofa. He had told you he didn’t have a preference of where, even though it was very clear he did. By his side was always preferable, though the thought of you sitting on the floor that first time awoke something that the gentleman in him tried its best to deny. Just the idea of you kneeling beside him was enough to make his c*ck stir. On the nights he didn’t come to your side, he laid awake, practically consumed by it. Your cheek grazing his thigh, his fingers combing their way through your silky hair, your contented little sigh as you rested your full weight against his leg. It was pathetic to think that fantasizing about the most basic forms of contact were enough to bring him to a swift orgasm, but here he was. After many months together, Neuvillette found himself so desperate for your acceptance, for your love, for your warmth that the mere mention of contact would cause him to make a mess of his hand. Maybe it was a good thing you always chose the sofa. If you did bring yourself to willingly be beside him or touch him, he might cum on the spot. 
He had time to work on that or at least that’s how he consoled himself as he cleaned himself up in the dark. The weather had been warm as of late. It had made maintaining a specific distance easy for you. He had to wonder if you would feel the same way once the weather turned cold. His office, like the rest of his house, did have a reputation for being drafty. Since you refused anything beyond the most basic of garments from him, it was only a matter of time before the cold got to you. What would you do then? Would you accept that as your appointed guardian he would have little choice but to punish you for your foolishness by holding you in his embrace as a means to warm you back up or would you suffer the chill for the sake of your own stubbornness?
The answer, to Neuvillette’s great surprise, was neither.
If his study was one of the coldest rooms, then outside of the bedrooms, the warmest place in the house was the drawing room. When the winter months came, the drawing room became a place of refuge for you since your keeper advised you that hiding in your bedroom was out of the question. Even if Neuvillette would happily cover you with blankets and furs should you ask, your pride decided you were better not to. You would rather freeze or in this instance, tolerate him being near you for the sake of staying warm. It had been a small victory for him. One that he relished every time he looked at you. From then on, you allowed him to sit in the same room as you, provided he stayed on his side. If he dared to get closer, he earned himself a scowl worthy of shearing the cliffs of Fontaine into the sea below. That’s if you looked at him at all. On the nicer days, your eyes were always fixed on something else, mainly the windows and the world beyond them.
Your present situation is not fair. He’s been made painfully aware of that through his own experiences with you. In general, Neuvillette understands that humans are meant to be free, or free within the limits that the laws of the land allow. The loss of that freedom should those laws be broken was to remind your kind of their place in this world. You, however, had broken no laws. At least none that were on the official books. In the eyes of Fontaine, you had been a model citizen, therefore you should be free. As far as Neuvillette’s own standards and rules were concerned, your behavior had been less than ideal. Hence his need to lock you away.
Neuvillette remembered the day or rather the circumstances that had caused him to clip your wings. He’d had you on schedule for sometime. You weren’t aware of it, but through his own manipulation of your life, you would wake at a certain time, eat at a certain time, work for a specific length, and finally report home at an appointed hour. Before his influence you had run around as you pleased. Your erratic behavior of running to and fro had made watching you from afar impossible. The schedule he slowly imposed upon you fixed all of that. You being at a specific place, at a specific time made things easier for the melusines to keep an eye on you and report in. Everything had been running rather smoothly, and Neuvillette found himself pleased with the outcome. You were where he wanted you, when he wanted you. Things were as low maintenance as they could be, until you decided to throw a wrench into the machine. 
He had been stuck at the opera for days, knee deep in an idiotic dispute. It was on that day, that you had decided to deviate from your normal routine. Thinking back on it, had things ended there and you had gotten back on track, nothing would have happened. In Neuvillette’s mind, one day's worth of deviation was tolerable. You took days off from time to time. It wasn’t too hard to pick up your routine on those days. You generally slept later or ate at different times, but there was one constant; you always kept yourself to the city. The melusines could find you without too much trouble. The only real inconvenience was that the daily reports about you were thrown off their schedule. He didn’t particularly care for it, but in this instance, it hadn’t mattered. This time, outside of one fact, the reports about what you ate, where you went, and who you spoke to couldn’t be made at all. How could they, when you had vanished without a trace?
There had been no warning, none of the usual signs that you were tired or stressed or in need of a rest. The day you had vanished started like all the others, the only difference was that it had begun with your bed being empty. The report that you hadn’t gone to work as you should didn’t reach him at the opera. Neither had any of the others regarding your lack of contact. Instead, the reports had been delivered, as instructed, to his office at the Palais Mermonia. Words like vanished, missing, and lost didn’t find him until he returned to the city two days later. At the time, he had believed you had been kidnapped. His own panic that you were missing had dismissed the concept that you had left of your own volition. The idea that you had decided to go away to the mountains for a few days seemed inconceivable to him. You hadn’t slipped your schedule while he had been distracted. You hadn’t taken one of the water taxis out of the city while no one was watching. No, in his own paranoid mind you hadn’t left, you had been kidnapped. Neuvillette had many enemies. Despite his own discretion regarding you, they must have gotten wind of you. That had to have been it. There was no other reason for the fact you hadn’t returned. You had been stolen. The very idea that you had been taken triggered something in him; something ancient, something primal. He needed to find you. He needed to hide you. He needed to protect you. Your part would be to comply with his wishes. Refusal was not an option. 
Neuvillette’s search for you was thorough. He scoured the countryside for you, searching above and below the surface for any sign of you or your abductors. No crevice of Fontaine was left untouched. No stone unturned, no ruin not inspected. It took him an additional three days to find you. When he did, the little house that you were staying in seemed anticlimactic. There were no guards nor was there any real fight. Just your utter confusion at the sight of the Chief Justice standing outside your door and Neuvillette’s solemn vow that he would never allow anything like this to happen again.
Even if it meant locking you away, your freedom could stand the sacrifice.
The contempt and rage that followed was something that took Neuvillette completely by surprise. He didn’t believe you possessed such strong emotions, but they were there. All it had taken was the cage door being locked shut to bring them to the surface. All he could do was listen as your cries and protestations lasted for days on end. Initially he had tried to calm you, calm your anger, but it had only made things worse. Stern or soft words didn't make a difference. You just continued to rage at him, so in turn he met you with silence. It wasn’t that he was insensitive to the situation, he knew taking your freedom wasn’t ideal. Where Neuvillette took issue was that he simply didn’t understand your reasons for being upset. The loss of freedom was unfortunate, but was it necessary. The schedule had been designed to keep you out of trouble. His motive in bringing you to his home was to keep you safe. You had deviated from one, so the solution was the other. Could you not see he was trying to help?
Even with his justifications though, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t feel guilty about what he had done. Your safety was of the utmost importance to him, but he desired nothing more than for you to be at peace with his decision. Neuvillette had brought you here for your own good. The world was a dangerous place and you, well you were far from safe in it. Your little disappearing act had shown him how incapable you were without him. That the schedule he had imposed upon you from afar was not enough. You needed a heavier hand to guide you, to keep you, to protect you. He knew you would be happier if you could be free, but that was no longer an option. Maybe that’s why he could never bring himself to be harsh with you. Neuvillette knows that on the surface, he could make your relationship be what he wanted it to be. Should his patience run much thinner, he could take a firm stance with you. He could apply force. It would be nothing for him to attach a leash to the invisible collar he made you wear and keep you at arm's length at all times. You could be bent, you could be broken, and most of all you could be rebuilt how he wanted you to be. Then, his dream for a life with you might be fulfilled. If he remade you how he wanted, you would smile at him like you do other things. He wouldn’t find himself envious of the sun, the music from the phonograph, the books you are permitted to read, and even the birds that play on the other side of the window. You wouldn’t love all of them more than you loved him.  He would be worthy of the smile he yearned for. The same smile he adored from afar and the same one that vanished the second you see him. His very soul shattered every time your lips fell into a thin line across your face, never failing to draw that same line across the room and his own heart.
That's what made the dead of night so special.
In the night, after sleep had claimed you, the hard line that you had drawn between you and he vanished. The darkness that consumed the world hid the truth of the entire situation perfectly. In those precious hours, he could pretend that you loved him. He could pretend that you understood his reasoning for his actions towards you. In his own mind, Neuvillette could make you accept that you were something delicate and rare. That you were unable to guard yourself from a world so keen to harm you. That you needed him to help you. He had imagined your gratitude a thousand times over. Decant thoughts of you thanking him for being your savior, of you falling into his arms, of your sweet lips on his, of your soft cries as he plunged his c*ck into you over and over.
It was untoward for him to think of you like that. He shouldn’t really. It was ungentlemanly to do so. But some things couldn’t be helped. When the night washed away the scowl that was reserved solely for him, Neuvillette found it all too easy to let his mind wander. He embraced the privilege of crossing the threshold of your bedroom and pretending that the smile you often wore in your sleep was for him. He could approach you without hesitation then. He could indulge himself in the feeling of your hair in between his fingers as he brushed it away from your face, the warmth of your skin as he ran his hands over the parts of your body that your nightgown or the heavy comforter refused to hide. He could work out his own frustrations by your side, his one hand fervently stroking his c*ck, while the other traced the lines of your thighs.
The entire charade was a ridiculous one. Something that in the cold reality of day he would dismiss as folly and nothing more. Logic, in this case, would always win out. You weren’t grateful to him. There was no way you ever would be. You didn’t understand his reasons for confining you. You would never understand his reasons. How could you? In your short life span, you had been blessed with peace. The world as you knew it hadn’t been torn asunder. You hadn’t witnessed the destruction of all you hold dear. If you had, perhaps you might share his view that you needed to be kept safe. Then, maybe Neuvillette wouldn’t have to reduce himself to being nothing more than a pathetic figure, pining for you in the dark.
Because god how he wanted you, how he needed you, how he loved you. On his worst days, when the burden of the nation was to the point that he felt the weight of it would crush him, he had you. His corner in the drawing room tied him over until the stars climbed high into the sky. Then, in the darkness of your bedroom, with only the moon light to serve as witness, Neuvillette could wrap himself in around you and wash his own worries away with the tears he spilled into your hair. Whispering a silent prayer that when the dawn came, perhaps today would be the day that you would see that he is yours. 
672 notes · View notes
paigeswrld · 1 year
Text
Heart of Ice
Azriel x reader (sort of)
Angst (I think)
This is my first time ever writing so apologies if it's bad. I got very carried away on accident and it became much longer than intended. If anyone wants a part two maybe I will write one.
WC: 3.8k
Before Tamlin had barged into your home and destroyed your lives, you and Feyre had been inseparable. You were the second oldest, and felt a motherly responsibility for Feyre.  Elaine had Nesta, Feyre had you. That's how it always had been. You two hunted while the other two stayed inside, doing a small amount of household chores while you two were out.
But then Feyre was stolen from you and your heart was cleaved in two. She came back, and you had never felt such joy, except that joy didn't last. Feyre left almost as fast as she arrived. For love, she claimed. Love of the man that kidnapped her, forced her to live in the Spring court. Love that was worth more than her family, her sisters. What a load of shit. You knew that love between them wouldn't last, you told her as much before she left. When she did leave, she left without a single goodbye. The last words she said to you still ringing in your ears. How would you know what real love is, when no one's ever found you worthy of it? You knew what she was implying, that not even your own family loved you. Not even her. You swore you could feel your heart turn to ice as her words really sunk in.
You still hadn't forgiven her for it. Not when she showed up a second time, her new fae body and new fae male... males. She tried not to give it away, but you could see it on her face. She moved on to Rhysand, no longer in love with Tamlin. You couldn't help but say to her, after introductions had been made, I see you've moved on. What happened, Feyre? Tamlin no longer worthy of your love? She merely clenched her fists and gave a small, strained smile. You knew there was no going back, back to the way things used to be. So, as they explained what needed to be done, you kept quiet, let Nesta do the talking as she always does. That heart of ice only grew stronger with each visit.
---
When Hybern came to take you and your sisters away, you couldn't find it in yourself to fight back. You'd seen how strong they were, knew their magic would quickly subdue you should you try and fight it. So, you went willingly. Your sister Nesta screamed, clawed, bit. She did anything she could to get out of their grasps, to protect Elain. She begged you to take her, take Elain and run, she said. You didn't. Didn't feel like wasting your breath when it would take mere seconds for them to catch up, and surely make things worse for you all. You can still see the look of absolute betrayal on her face when all you did was walk towards Hybern's guards and put your wrists out for them to bind. You're not entirely sure she ever got over what you did, how easily you gave up. It was that moment, that final crack in the ice, that separated you and your sisters. The relationship between you and them truly destroyed.
---
Cool, calm, collected. That was how you appeared when they brought you in front of Feyre and the inner circle. That facade almost gave way when you saw Azriel hunched over, an arrow sticking out of him and blood dripping on the ground. Azriel, who had never given you the harsh glares like his brothers did, like everyone did. His soft smiles were the only hint of kindness you'd received in months. As you stood near the King of Hybern's throne, your eyes met hazel, and you could see the anguish in his eyes as he tried to move toward you, only to be pushed back by the arrow in his chest.
When it was your turn to enter the cauldron, after Elain, you simply put your hand up to stop the guards that attempted to grab you. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction, you walked right up to the cauldron. With your head held high, you climbed onto the lip of the cauldron, turned to the King and held his stare as you fell backwards into freezing darkness.
never in your life had you felt so, so cold. Freezing. Like the blood in your veins was turning solid. You opened your eyes and amidst the darkness was pale blue light emitting for your palms. As you looked around, small snowflakes seemed to drift through the darkness, and you put your finger out to touch one. As soon as you did, a blast of ice cold pain shot through you, from your finger straight through your arm into your heart, and you thought you might die. It was determination that got you to the top of the cauldron. You would not die at the hands of a Fae King, all because of a war you wanted nothing to do with. No, that was not how this was going to work. You grabbed the edges of the cauldron and pushed yourself up, out of the cauldron and onto the ground. It wasn't until you took a few breaths that you noticed it. The heightened senses made your whole body tingle, and as you looked up you could see everyone staring at you as if you were a foreign creature. You were, you supposed, but they way they were looking at you... You looked down, and around your feet were crystals of ice, a trail from where you had walked from the cauldron and as you looked at it, you could see the shards of ice where your hands had been as if they were ready to stab anyone who came too close.
The rest was a blur, Nesta went next, pointing at the King, Cassian's wings were shredded, Feyre went with Tamlin, and Mor winnowed us to what they called the House of Wind. Cassian and Azriel saw healers. Rhysand left, trying to calm down and not go after his mate. Mor showed us our rooms, Nesta demanded her and Elain share a suite, and you got a room down the hall from them. Nesta didn't say a single word to you as she guided Elain to their rooms and slammed the door. Still freezing, it wasn't until you got to your rooms, bathed in hot water, lit a fire, put on the warmest pajamas you could find, and lay under the mountain of covers that you finally let the tears fall.
---
Months passed by, the war was won and people were healing, yet you still couldn't bring yourself to do the same. Hel, even Nesta was better. Her and Cassian were happily mated, Feyre was a mother, Elain was finally starting to give poor Lucien the time of day, and you were... stuck. Stuck moping in your apartment, courtesy of the High lord and lady. Stuck feeling worthless, like you didn't belong. Nobody from the inner circle bothered to talk to you, and hadn't since you were made, save for Azriel, but you alway kept those conversations short, not having the energy for anything more. You'd tried to make friends, to find a family of your own, one that actually wanted you. But all of your efforts were futile, as all you felt was numb. Numb towards people, towards life in general. Everything felt exhausting, so you isolated yourself. Hardly ate, didn't talk to anyone, didn't leave the comfort of your small apartment, unless necessary of course. You spent your time as close to the fire as possible, or in the hottest bath you could get. You were always cold, and you were always numb. You'd been invited to the family dinners, but you never showed.
When Feyre was fully healed from birth, Rhysand stopped by, begging you to show up to dinner, claiming your sisters missed you. That Feyre wanted you to meet the baby. It was a lie. You knew it was. She didn't miss you, Rhysand just thought he knew what was best for her. They were better off without you, your miserable life, your ice cold heart. Unfortunately for you, Rhysand wouldn't leave. He came everyday knocking on your door and begging you to show. When you realized he wouldn't let up, you agreed. It was just one dinner, and after that, you would leave the court for good. You would no longer be their burden to bear, and you would leave them. Just as your sisters had left you.
That's how you found yourself in front of the River House, trying to muster up any feeling, excitement, nervousness, anger. Nothing. It seemed the ice around your heart was frozen so thick you couldn't find it in you to feel anything but that icy cold numbness. Would it be like this forever? With a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Almost too quickly, it opened and you were met face to face with the handsome shadowsinger.
His neutral expression was unnerving as he slowly looked you up and down. You could see the puzzled expression at the thick coat you wore, despite the warmer summer night. "Hello Y/N, I'm surprised you actually came."
"Rhysand promised to finally leave me alone if I showed up. So don't worry, you won't have to see me again after this."
His brows furrowed at your words, and he opened his mouth to say something before a quiet voice interrupted him.
"Y/N... You actually came." It was Elain, looking beautiful as ever in a soft blue gown. "Come, let's get you inside." She grabbed your arm as Azriel stepped to the side, his eyes never leaving your face.
She opened the coat closet, "You can put your coat in here-"
Cutting her off and stepping away from her you said, "I'll keep it on, thank you." You were still always cold, nothing enough to keep you warm. With a look of concern she grabbed your hand before quickly pulling back. "Your hand is freezing, are you feeling okay Y/N?"
You glanced at Azriel, who was watching you two even more intently, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just cold from the walk here." She simply nodded her head as she led you toward the living room where the rest of the inner circle lounged.
The laughter stopped and all eyes were on you as you entered the room. You couldn't remember a time where you had felt more uncomfortable. It was Feyre who stood first, her eyes wide and she moved slowly towards you, as though you might strike her if she got too close. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Rhys watching you, almost daring you to make a wrong move and upset his mate. You simply stayed put, unsure of what to do.
It was her who made the first move, she said your name, hardly a whisper, before embracing you in a tight hug. It caught you so off guard you almost pushed her off of you. With your arms near her ribs you stilled, before slowly embracing her as well.
She whispered in your ear, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry for everything. I should have come to you sooner, should have tried to make amends. I just- I didn't know what to say."
You let go of her and grabbed her hands in yours, noticing her slight flinch at your icy hands, "I'm sorry too, for everything. We don't need to worry about that right now though. I never really told you congratulations on your newest addition. How is the baby?" It was then that you realized how isolated you truly were, you didn't even know the gender of the baby, nor its name.
A smile started on her lips, "He's absolutely wonderful, come meet your nephew." She pulled you over to Rhysand who was holding a purple bundle, inside it was the child.
Rhysand looked up at you, "Y/N, meet Nyx." You couldn't help the small smile that formed on your lips as you looked down at him, then back up at the high lord. "He has your hair, your wings. Lets hope he doesn't get your cocky personality too." Rhysand cracked a smile and from behind you, you could hear a small chuckle from the shadowsinger.
Feyre looked at you again and you knew what she was going to ask before she said, "Would you like to hold him?" You didn't want to. You didn't want to get attached to a nephew you would likely never see again, should your plans to leave this court actually work.
Before you could protest, Rhysand was handing you the sleeping baby. You willed your heart to stay calm, to fight the icy panic that creeped in. This child, your beautiful baby nephew, would not grow up with you around, would not know you. You could feel your body getting colder by the second, despite your efforts to fight against it. It tingled your fingers and the tips of them began to frost. All too quickly the cold seeped through the swaddle, and Nyx began to cry. 
The next few moments seemed to happen in a blur. One moment you were handing Nyx to a worried Feyre and the next you were across the room, pinned to the wall by a snarling Rhysand.
He was practically spitting in your face as he asked you, "What did you do? What did you do to him Y/N?!"
It was then that you noticed that the room was freezing. His breath clouded in front of you, and there was frost on the windows. It even seemed a little darker in the room.
"I- I don't know. I didn't mean to do anything Rhysand I swear!" His eyes were wild, his chest puffing up and down while Nyx still cried in the background.
Nobody dared say a word as Rhys kept you pinned against the wall, so hard it was starting to hurt.
A hand clamped on Rhys' shoulder, but his eyes didn't leave your face.
"Rhys, it was an accident."
It was Azriel, trying to defend you. Trying to stop Rhysand from ripping your face off for harming his son. But Rhysand didn't so much as blink at Azriel as continued gripping your shoulders, the ache becoming more and more unbearable.
Until suddenly, he was pushed away from you. All you saw was a muscular back and spread wings as Azriel got in between you two, blocking you, protecting you, from the high lord's wrath.
"It was an accident, Rhys, she didn't know what she was doing."
Rhysand stepped closer to him, "Get out of my way Az."
"I will not move until you've come to your senses. Until I am sure you won't do something you'll regret."
Suddenly it made more sense now, why Azriel bothered to step in. He was trying to keep his High Lord safe, safe from himself. Not keep you safe. You felt foolish for even thinking you were worth saving right now.
The stare down between the two of them seemed to go on for hours until finally, Rhysand let out a sigh and agreed not to do anything rash. Azriel backed down, tucking in his wings, and stepped to the side, still close to you.
The others in the room seemed to hold their breath as Rhysand looked at you again. "I'm sorry, males get very protective over their children, especially those new to parenthood." You simply stared at him with a face of indifference, but on the inside all you wanted to do was leave. Leave this place and never come back. "I didn't realize you had powers, or that they were causing such issues. You should have told us. We could have helped."
It took everything in you not to snap. You could feel the room's temperature drop as ice cold rage overtook your body. Rage, the first emotion you've truly felt in months. You didn't register the crystals of ice forming around your feet, on the wall behind you. No, all you saw was the High Lord, his family, all one big happy family. They were your family first. Your sisters. Not his. But he talks to you as if you are a part of this family. Like they care about you. You know they don't. They left you. Left you to grieve your human self, left with powers you didn't know how to control, and they left you to figure out your new body on your own. They could help Nesta and Elain, but not you. Certainly not you, you were not worthy of that kind of love.
It took everything in you to not show how hard you were shaking, to keep your voice steady as you said, "Do not act like you care about me. Not when I have been on my own for months, while you guys were busy frolicking through Velaris with your mates," your practically spat out the last word. "I waited for months. Months I sat around hoping that my sisters would give me the time of day, to be there for me like I had always been for them. Instead they left me in the dust while they embraced their new family." You turned to Feyre and that moment, who hugged Nyx closer to her chest. "You left me Feyre. You left me and didn't look back. You haven't bothered to look back even as I followed right behind you." Tears threatened to spill and your voice cracked. You would not cry.
She looked at you with pain in her eyes, "Y/N I never meant for any of that. You are part of this family. You-"
You cut her off, "Don't. Don't act like you care. Like any of you care. You've made it clear where I stand amongst you all." You looked around the room, as everyone avoided eye contact. Even Nesta and Elain. "I apologize for ruining your night. I will leave now, get out of your hair. Goodnight everyone."
Feyre tried to follow you as you walked away, but you heard her mate stop her. There was another, heavier pair of steps that followed you through the house and out the door. You ignored them.
"Y/N."
You ignored the voice. Ignored the shadows weaving through your legs as you walked.
"Y/N."
Just keep walking.
"Y/N."
You finally turned to face the annoying shadowsinger. "What do you want?"
"It's late. Let me winnow you home."
You stared at his unreadable face. You didn't understand why he was offering to take you home. Why he cared. "Is Rhysand making you do this? Because if so you can go home. I don't want their help."
"Nobody is making me do anything. I'm doing this because I want to. I want to make sure you get home safe." He looks at you with such sincerity, you actually contemplate allowing to take you home.
"Fine. Only because I'm too tired to walk right now." He simply smirks at you and grabs your hand, and immediately you are enveloped in shadows.
He winnows you directly into your small apartment, and his eyes immediately fall to the few bags you started packing.
He turns to you, eyebrows furrowed, "Going on a trip?"
You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze as you mumble, "Something like that."
"Where are you going?"
You look at him then, the confusion still evident on his face. "I don't know yet. I was thinking maybe the Winter court. I thought there might be someone who could help me understand my powers."
He almost looks offended at your words as he tells you, "You don't need to go to the Winter court for that. I can help you."
"I wasn't planning on coming back. I was planning on leaving without anyone knowing, and never speaking to any of you again." It was a low blow, but you wanted him out of here. You wanted him to stop acting like he cared about you.
His resolve cracked then, his cool demeanor turning into anguish as he looked at you, "Why won't you let me help you? I've tried since the beginning to get you to open up, to talk to me. But you push me away. you push everyone away. Why do you do that?"
You didn't expect him to be so blunt. You blinked for a moment before putting together what you wanted to say, "Because I'm afraid. The one person I could count on, Feyre, she left me, and completely shattered my heart in the process. All three of my sisters stopped talking to me and found their own family, with each other, without me. And I'm afraid that if I let someone else in they'll leave me, just like everyone else did." You were crying now, but didn't bother to wipe away the tears that turned to frost on your face.
Azriel raised his hand then, and paused right before it touched your cheek, as if he were afraid to touch you. "I won't leave you Y/N. I will help you figure out your powers, I can help you adjust to this new life, but you have to let me in. I've been trying to help from the beginning, you just wouldn't let me. I promise, if you let me help you, I won't leave you."
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to work through your emotions. You wanted to trust him. You wanted so badly to have someone you could lean on, who could help you through all of this. But that didn't stop the doubt from creeping in. You did your best to shove it away, deep down inside you. Something made you drawn to Azriel, made you trust him more easily than you would others. So you opened your eyes, took another deep breath, and said, "Okay."
Nothing could describe the radiance of the smile that lit up his beautiful face at that single word. His eyes crinkled and he let out a small breath as he finally rested his hand upon your cheek, wiping away the frost. You two stared at each other for a moment as he smiled, and you couldn't help the small one that creeped up on your face as well.
He said nothing as he pulled you into a big hug, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and head as his wings wrapped around the both of you. It was then that you finally felt safe, like nothing could hurt you. It was as if the chill that had permanently settled in your body had lifted, and for once since you had become fae, you finally felt warm.
1K notes · View notes
purinfelix · 5 months
Note
joao x reader angst based off of that song Nothings New by Rio Romeo. Like maybe Joao is always ignoring reader in public or smthn. 🤭
nothing's new.
Tumblr media
pairing: joao felix x reader (established relationship) summary: in which you learn dating a famous footballer comes with the price of secrecy warnings: angst, toxic relationships w/c: 790
a/n: ANONNN this request really hit me idk like it single-handedly brought my motivation to write back because even though it pains me, writing angst is just too fun sometimes .... its a little short but i hope you enjoy !!!
Tumblr media
Before Joao, you had had an ex-boyfriend who, despite being nowhere near as famous, insisted on keeping you his little secret. Most of your ‘dates’ had consisted of you sneaking in through his bedroom window or accompanying him on weekly boy's nights which left you feeling uncomfortable at best and totally invisible at worst. Your relationship, if you could even call it that, was a part of your life you were glad was over. 
Telling Joao about this hadn’t been easy, but you had seen it as an obstacle to overcome as early on in your budding relationship as possible. And you had always planned to have a mature, serious conversation with him about it - but that was before it came slipping out one evening after multiple glasses of wine and several vodka cruisers. The two of you were sharing stories of awkward first dates, childhood crushes and all other things a young couple likes to get off of their chests over a dinner date, but before you realised it he was helping you stumble back to your apartment. 
You had thrown yourself onto your couch, chest heaving as you felt a heat radiating from your flushed face. Hands gently gripped at your ankles and you leant forward to see your boyfriend trying his best to take your shoes off for you whilst you tried your best to sit upright. 
“And he had the audacity to make it seem like my fault!” you mumbled, words slurring as your hand waved about angrily. 
“What an asshole,” Joao’s voice came from somewhere behind you now, probably as he was putting away your shoes by the front door. Even through your drunken haze you could hear the sincerity and sympathy in his tone, as you reached out a hand in his direction. 
“Well, there’s a reason I broke up with him,” you laugh weakly even though there’s no joke in your words. You hear the sound of his feet padding back over to the couch and suddenly his warm hand is in yours, caressing the back of it with his thumb. Even through your half-lidded gaze you can make out his eyes, which only look back at you with an earnest expression as he speaks. 
“I don’t understand how anyone could treat you like that.” 
It’s been months since then but his words still echo in your head now, as you make yet another unsuccessful attempt to reach out for his hand as he walks ahead of you. Not so ahead that you can’t keep up, but just enough that any onlookers and paparazzi can apss the two of you off as mere acquaintances, and not a couple. 
His hand dangles by his side and you yearn for nothing more than to take it in yours, the way you did that night and the way you still do most nights - but you have to remind yourself that most of these nights you spend in the privacy of your own home with your boyfriend. Because when you’re out, in the public eye, he stops being your boyfriend and becomes Joao Felix, beloved and renowned footballer who has yet to announce a romantic relationship to the public. 
You can’t remember exactly when it started being like this, but if you had to you’d put it sometime around the start of the most recent football season. It wasn’t like he had told you that your relationship would have to stay a secret explicitly, because he had all the implications in the world to do that with. He’d talk about other footballers and their relationships and constantly quote his agents advice of “not flaunting a relationship if he wasn’t absolutely sure it would last”. 
It hurt. There was no denying it. Watching your boyfriend oscilate between the most loving person you knew and treating you like a total stranger, and trying your best not to overthink how he played the role of a disinterested stranger a little too well. And it had taken you some time to get over the idea that maybe if you had been more famous it wouldn’t have to be like this. 
But still, you lived for those times, in the privacy of your own home, when your boyfriend would return. When you would be allowed to wear his jersey, his shirt, his arm around your shoulder and not feel immense guilt about it. When he would whisper sweet nothings as apologies, and kiss you like he meant it a thousand times over. When he would show his love to you like he had nothing left to lose, and your relationship felt real again. 
You could only wait and hope for a day when you weren’t the only one who knew about it.
217 notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 11 days
Text
18+ / mdi
Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: loser!wonwoo, nerdy!wonwoo, sub!wonwoo, subdom!reader, mentions of sfw pics being taken behind your back, corruption, wonwoo's first time, dry humping, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 2599
a/n: thank u to anon who inspired this ur a real one
masterlist
in this day and age, you knew that a mere college degree would likely not be enough for you to find a job within your field.
you were a creative, hoping to one day work as a photographer or maybe get into the creative design field upon graduating. however, you'd heard the horror stories of fellow graduates entering the terrifying world that came after college, with many unable to land a solid gig after graduating.
that's how you landed yourself a spot in the yearbook committee, becoming both a photographer and editor throughout these past few months.
that was also how you came to meet jeon wonwoo, the enigmatic boy who had become your partner any time you'd be assigned to photograph at school events.
despite spending quite a bit of time with wonwoo, attending every school event with him, you were yet to really get to know him. wonwoo was likely the shyest guy you'd met in all the years you'd spent at college so far. it was extremely hard to get to know him, as he would be only mumble and shy away any time you tried to make conversation with him. so far, all you knew about him was that he was a photography major (an extremely talented one at that), he was part of the gaming club (information you got from your friend vernon), and that he was generally very into stereotypically nerdy stuff.
none of this information was too groundbreaking, which only made you even more curious about wonwoo. it seemed like he'd specifically go out of his way to avoid you, stuttering like crazy when you'd try and make conversation and attempting to work separately any time you were assigned to photograph at the same locations.
all this only made your current situation all the more interesting, as you now found yourself at wonwoo's door, pondering on whether to knock on the door or not.
for some backstory, it was finally the end of your junior year of college, meaning that most of the work necessary for the production of the yearbook had been completed. all that needed to be done now solely consisted of editorial stuff as you finessed the final product.
this meant that you'd have to meet up with wonwoo to collaborate on the overlay of the yearbook, with the two of you being assigned the duty due to having worked together for most of the past two semesters.
you had jumped at this opportunity, entirely too interested in the shy, glass-clad boy. as embarrassed as you were to admit it, you had developed a bit of a crush on wonwoo. his constant stuttering and nerves around you gave you a strange thrill you had never experienced before. maybe you had a thing for losers, who knew.
and so you decided that now that you had this opportunity to visit wonwoo, being able to get him alone, you'd have a little fun.
yeah, maybe you had put on the tiniest clothes you could get away with wearing out in public. and yes, maybe you had worn that lipgloss you had once seen wonwoo eyeing on you. but could you be blamed? the thought of breaking him excited you too badly, completely sure but now that he must've held a bit of a crush on you (at least based on his constant nerves around you).
finally knocking on the door, you waited a few moments before a messy-haired wonwoo opened the door, giving you a sheepish smile as he welcomed you in.
his apartment was clean, but you could still tell that this had been a rushed effort, being able to spot some clothing misplaced and a few bowls scattered on some pieces of furniture. other than that, it seemed like wonwoo was likely cleaner than the average male college student.
after quietly looking around, you finally turned to wonwoo, who had been watching you quietly as his hands anxiously played with the oversized sleeves of the cardigan he was wearing.
"do you wanna work in your room or on the couch?", you asked.
somehow, you had caught him off guard, making him stumble over his words before muttering that his bed would be better, as it was bigger.
entering his room, you couldn't help a silent giggle at how predictable it looked, filled with star wars and marvel posters on the wall, along with some figurines. the room also included a clearly expensive pc and a few gaming consoles, obviously accompanied by a gaming chair.
liberally taking a seat in the middle of his bed, you allowed your skirt to flow highly enough for your legs to become exposed. you grinned to yourself when wonwoo took a seat beside you, gulping at the sight before opening his macbook on his lap.
once again, without any invitation, you scoot closer to him to get a better view, enjoying the intake of breath you heard from the boy.
after that, you actually worked together for a while, quietly discussing what content you'd leave in and what you'd take out. it was quite enjoyable, actually. you had known wonwoo to have a great creative eye, having seen his photography before, but it surprised you that he was just as good at graphic design.
you voiced this praise to him, making him chuckle awkwardly as he shook his head in denial.
"no, i'm serious, wonwoo. you're so good at this," you repeated.
"ah, n-no, it's just- i'm not that good," he muttered, lowering his head a bit and keeping his eyes on the screen to avoid looking at you.
no, this just wouldn't do.
going on a leap, you scoot even closer, now with your side completely pressed up against his own. bringing your hand up to his chin, you made him face you, smiling at the clear panic in his face.
"wonwoo ... why can't you take my compliment? hmm? you don't believe me?", you murmured, keeping your distance far too small as you awaited his answer.
"i-it's not that, it's just that-"
cutting off his muttering, you continued, "want me to show you? show you that i mean it?", your eyes lowered to his lips before going back to his eyes, hoping that that was enough of a hint for him to know what you meant.
gulping again, his eyes looked to your lips too, looking back up before parting his lips, attempting to make some sort of sound but failing, simply whimpering pathetically.
his whimper was enough to ruin you, making you close the gap between you with a soft kiss.
pathetically, he whined against you as you did all the work, leaving soft kisses against his lips up until your tongue made use of the small gap of his lips, sneaking in and encouraging him to follow along in your movements.
you sighed softly against his lips, wanting nothing more than to encourage his kisses. when he finally began kissing back, you repositioned yourself on the bed, pushing off the laptop and kneeling in front of him without ever breaking the kiss. like a good boy, he followed you in your movements, allowing you to lay him down on the bed as you climbed over him.
pulling away, you chuckled against his lips as he pathetically followed your lips with a whine, hands uncharacteristically holding onto your hips as he held you against him.
"wonwoo," you breathed out against his lips, "is it okay if i take off my clothes, baby?"
"y-yes, fuck. please. i- i mean, you don't have to, but, fuck, i-"
"shhh. it's okay, baby. i'll take them off, yeah? then it's your turn," you reassured, throwing off your skimpy summer dress before snapping off your bra and struggling your way out of your panties before sitting back on him.
the sight of the nerdy boy under you as he salivated over every new inch of skin you exposed to as laughable. his eyebrows were furrowed in the a manner that made it look like he was in pain. his breathy gasps at the revelation of your breasts had given you a huge ego boost, making you play with them for a bit for his viewing satisfaction. after that you leaned down again, going back to what had first started all this.
"you're so pretty, wonwoo ... so talented and nice and pretty. my pretty nonu," you breathed into his lips, giving him no chance to respond.
he still did his best, shaking his head, insisting that you were the pretty one. that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
"n-no, you ... you're so pretty fuck, i- i've always wanted you ... fuck, is that, is that okay? always thought you were the prettiest girl ... get so nervous around you," he confessed, sighing when your arms went under his shirt, toying at his nipples before helping him remove his cardigan and shirt.
now shirtless, you practically salivated over his body, feeling him up like you were entirely depraved of touch. he was far more buff and delicious than you had ever imagined. wonwoo seemed to enjoy it just as much, letting out desperate breaths as you felt him up. before long, his sounds became even higher and whinier, as your hands made their way to his pants, pushing them down as best as you could before getting a hold of his already hardened cock.
"a-ah, t-that's ... fuck, a-are you sure?", gasped wonwoo, squirming under you like the pretty little nerd you'd been wanting for so long.
"yes, nonu. is it okay? is it okay when i play with your pretty cock like this?", your hand wrapped tighter around him, bringing his member out of his boxers and jerking him faster as he nodded desperately in approval.
"it's so good, fuck ... feels so ... so nice. please ..."
he was already such a whimpering mess and you hadn't even started working on his pleasure. unknowingly, wonwoo was slowly corrupting your mind, making you feel a monstrous need to do every nasty thing imaginable to the pretty boy moaning under you.
with a groan, you repositioned yourself, leaning back a little so you could drag your pussy against his cock. the thought alone made your eyes roll back. and the execution? the execution had you whimpering at the sudden stimulation, falling in love with the hardness of wonwoo's cock.
in the meantime wonwoo had lost all ability to produce any sort of sound, letting out breathless whimpers at the feeling of your cunt dragging against him, glasses fogged up and hands digging into your hips to unknowingly try and guide you against his dick.
"y/n ... oh, fuck ... p-please ... need- need more, oh, please ..."
dry humping could only go so long, but you wanted to drag it as much as you could. the sight and sound of wonwoo begging for you had you on cloud nine. he was so handsome and well built that you couldn't help but become hypnotized to the sight under you as you humped him with no shame.
the pretty mess under you continued to beg, strong arms even coming to stop your movements when the pleasure got too much, pleading at you to please let him have your cunt.
"g-give it to me. please. need to feel it, i- i've never had it before. need t-to know. need it to be you, fuck, please ..."
oh? was the pretty boy a virgin? were you about to deflower the mess under you?
wonwoo should've never let you in on this information, as it immediately drove you crazy with desire. you needed to claim him, mark him as yours and keep him all to yourself forever.
without hesitating any longer, you lowered yourself on him, groaning out at the stretch while wonwoo let out the prettiest high-pitched moan you had ever heard. it was pathetic how his deep voice fell to mere whimpers at the simple touch of a woman. yet it made you tighten around him all the tighter.
your hips bounced on his thin thighs, hand dipping in so you could play with your clit. maybe one day you'd teach him how to give you pleasure in such a way, but for now you just wanted to ruin him.
"gonna cum ... i- fuck, im gonna cum. c-can i? please?", he pleaded, eyes shut closed in pleasure.
it took you a few moments to answer, not wanting to leave him waiting for too long during his first time, but needing to get yourself to the edge in order to cum with him. within a few seconds he repeated his pleas, this time even more pathetically than before. this was what broke you, making you nod and whimper in affirmation as your own orgasm took over.
"such a g-good boy for me, nonu," you leaned down to kiss him, wanting to give him as much intimacy as you could for his first time.
kissing you back, he wrapped his arms around you, consistently crying praises against your lips. he let you know how badly he loved your cunt, how much he'd fantasized about this. the rest got muddled in the endless whimpers he let out.
after riding your high, you laid against his him, ear against his chest as you caught your breaths. his skin was clammy and his heartbeat fast. you loved being the cause of both things.
"does ... does this mean you like me back?" he murmured.
nodding against his chest, you left a few kisses against the skin, "yes, wonwoo. i've liked you for a while."
he exhaled in relief, "fuck, thank god."
your let yourself roll over from on top of him and lay on his side, finding a more comfortable position to cuddle with him.
then you suddenly remembered.
"shit, we gotta finish the yearbook."
it was his turn to chuckle, "let's nap for a while first. i'll wake up and get the final details later. promise."
you took his promise in the form of the union of pinkies, taking his advice of taking a nap as the surprisingly buff boy held you in his arms, falling into slumber quickly after.
~
ironically, you woke up before he did, approximately two hours after having fallen asleep in his arms. spotting the laptop on the floor, you decided to do him the favor of doing the final touches yourself, deciding that this would somehow be some form of aftercare as he regained his energy by sleeping.
shockingly enough, having the initiative to work on the unfinished yearbook spread as wonwoo continued to sleep next to you proved quite interesting as you finally got hold of the computer.
you hadn't meant to snoop, but a folder hidden on the corner immediately caught your attention. you hadn't noticed it earlier, as wonwoo had the computer on his own lap the entire time, but its title consisted of your initials, making you entirely too curious about it.
opening it, you had to hold in your gasp upon finding about twenty pictures of you out and about at each of the events you'd attended with wonwoo to photograph for the yearbook. for candids, they were quite beautiful.
in any other situation, you wouldve been rightfully freaked out. but the thought of shy little wonwoo fantasizing about you as he took pictures of you to look at later only made you want to claim him even more.
looking to the pretty boy softly snoring next to you, you were already planning all the ways in which you'd mock and berate him over it, all while you ruined him under you yet again.
805 notes · View notes
hotchfiles · 3 months
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ on my mind since the flood ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: a 45min train ride makes two 43 year olds feel like teenagers. content warnings: divorce babes, divorce. kinda spoiler-ish. watch the 3rd season before. the reader has a backstory and a job, if that bothers you grow up don't read. word count: 960+
Tumblr media
your hair was different, that was the first thing he noticed.
much like himself, you had soft wrinkles beginning to show up on your forehead and around your eyes, a gift from your late thirties that kept on giving. your eyes were the same though, he could recognize those anywhere at any time, even if it had been decades since the last time they stared back at his. your nose, your lips. your smile. the way his name sounded coming from your tongue. it was all extremely familiar, as if he was fifteen again.
"you're staring, like a creep, airhead." the old nickname rolls out like you had spent merely seconds apart and it makes him laugh, it has been weeks, maybe months since he last laughed genuinely like that, with his whole face.
"i just got lost—" in your eyes. "in my memories for a bit. you look so much the same."
"well, my pay check won't allow me any plastic surgeries so—"
"wise ass." and there it was, like a reflex, his own nickname to you leaving his lips before he even thought about it, if he did think about it he probably would've held it in, a 43 year old fbi agent using childish nicknames not being the best look, but it didn't feel like that with you, at all, it felt natural. you both laugh at it for a second and a comfortable silence follows it, but aaron couldn't keep it like that, he needed to know more, where have you been, what were you doing... have you been in virginia for long? he kept it as casual as he could considering his curiosity, "how have you been?"
"alright, good, yeah. i'm teaching at scalia, started this year, i want to keep practicing though, but i'm gonna settle down in virginia first." you shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. you were purposefully leaving details out, you had seen him on tv a lot since coming back to the states, fbi, profiler. you wanted to see how much could he get from you without words. "what about you, mister fbi hotshot?"
if you two were still teens the way your teasing came out would've made him blush, and quite frankly if he wasn't so self controlled maybe he would've blushed right now, he did feel warm, but instead he just let a chuckle out of his throat, "well, fbi hotshot just had his divorce finalized, not that glamorous being on these shoes." you already knew what he was doing with his life, it made sense to give the only actual news he had, "scalia? law degree too, then." aaron clicks his tongue, not holding back the instant smirk the realization brought. "your mother used to say we were so similar we shared the same brain, remember?"
"welcome to the club, then! meetings every friday, membership perks only after the second one, though." his eyes went straight to your fingers, seeing the lack of any rings he nods to himself. twice divorced. dark heavy coat, makeup accentuating your features, red lips, hair pulled back. you obviously care about being seen, desired, but don't want to be approached, a teacher-lawyer, no time, a lot of perfectionism. "yeah, i stay far away from criminal. civil and international law cases mostly. families, divorces, cross-board custodies." a child of divorce trying to save other children of divorce. very typical behavior.
aaron felt like he could stay like this for hours on end, sitting by your side uncomfortably on the train after fate pulled you two to one another again, hearing you tell him about your life in london, your divorces, your time in college. you made him feel young, like you were still his childhood best friend who he fell for. like if he were to kiss you like he did when you were both thirteen you would still blush and grip tightly on his shirt. nostalgia was indeed a bittersweet thing.
"i think when you moved away was the last time i openly sobbed." he shakes his head, the thought leaving his brain in a quiet, hushed voice tone, like a secret he wasn't supposed to be telling. it had been years, you were both fifteen when your parents got divorced and you were taken to england with your father. 28 years since the last time he saw you, and he still can feel the same pain if he thinks too hard about it, the way his heart felt like was being sliced apart, getting smaller by the minute as your father's car got further and further away. his mood soured in a way his feelings were only able to function normally again after meeting haley.
your hand softly touched his with the confession, your thumb going to his palm and drawing small comforting circles, "i cried myself to sleep a lot that year." aaron glued his eyes on the way your hands touched, and you thought he might reject it, find it weird after so many years, but instead he just closed his around yours tightly, a silent thankful prayer to the universe, mixed with the warning that he had no intention to let go.
you both stay like that as you talk the rest of the ride, cellphone numbers and e-mails are exchanged, along with longing glances beginning to make you shy like the school girl you once were, when you fell for him the first time. you often wondered what would've happened if you stayed in washington. before jack, aaron wondered it too from time to time, but truly, he wouldn't do anything different now, he wouldn't choose any alternative ending that would take jack from him.
but at least now he had a second chance, right?
214 notes · View notes
squirmhoney · 1 year
Note
What about daemons daughter from rhea that was living in kings landing bc daemon abandoned her and at driftmark he tries to steal her away to go to dragonstone after she defended aemond and alicent but she runs away to kings landing and years later when they go to defend luke they walk into or hear her and aemond having sex and see that they have kids now and are married, daemon does something to anger her and aemond at the dinner where she wears green and sits next to aemond and maybe jace asks to dance with her and she has a look of disgust on her face constantly
Tumblr media
A/N: I felt like these requests were super similar so I put them together. The only thing is I didn’t write everything that was suggested because it just got so long. I hope you’re happy with it. It’s Velaryon reader but still with a relationship with Daemon. Also I age up the characters so they can have so many children as I don’t think of them doing anything until they are 18. Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), squirting. angst. Just lots and lots of smut Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (niece) x Aemond Targaryen Word count: 7.8k
Master List
In your Abandonment
Tumblr media
Abandonment was something you had become accustomed to growing up. First you had been abandoned by your father, being the only other person that knew what truly happened that night on Driftmark. The second time was by the person that you considered to be your second father, as Daemon left you at Kings Landing on a trip he planned for the two of you. You weren't sure which one hurt more, each came so unexpected.
At least when Daemon tricked you into a trip to Kings Landing, he had the decency to look you in the eye when he left you there. Years away from your family gave you time to dwindle on the reason for them leaving you. The one moment that stuck vividly in your mind being the time you defended Aemond on Driftmark, distraught on how he had been mauled by your brothers. Your mother had glared at you, a scowl evident on her lips as she looked at you with pure disgust. That was the first time you had felt a horrible pain, feeling as if a dagger had been shoved into your back and each time something happened it was them twisting it again.
You loved them but over time with not being able to escape the four walls of your dim room in the red keep, you started to despise them. A bile rose to your throat every time you closed your eyes haunted by the memories that were your family. You wept for weeks in that room unable to escape the torment of their voices you heard in your head, feeling your skin crawl as if there very presence was still with you. You had sent letters in the first few months begging for your mother to take you back to Dragon Stone or for them to at least write back to you.
Eventually after not hearing from them within the first year, the mere thought of them became a distant memory.
In your pain you found solace in two people, your uncles.
Aemond was of course drawn to you. How could he not be after you defended him so valiantly when he lost his eye. But after the incident he lost all his confidence and struggled to even talk to you.
It was Aegon that had approached you first, seeing your sad frail figure in the gardens and finding himself stopping as he towered over your frame. He saw something of himself in you that day, or that's at least what you believed, two broken souls neglected by the people meant to love them most.
"A drink?" Aegon asked, swinging the bottle of wine he had stolen in front of your face.
You peered up from your book with your tear stained face and puffy cheeks as you shook your head.
"It helps," Aegon added, taking a swig from the bottle. "Well sometimes."
"I don't think the queen would appreciate me getting drunk with you uncle,"  you told him, speaking so timidly he almost didn't hear you.
"So formal, call me Aegon. We are practically the same age,"  he chuckled, taking a seat next to you. "What the queen doesn't know won't hurt her?"
"We are in the gardens, anyone could see us." You looked around, blushing at the indecent thought of drinking your sorrows away with Aegon.
"Well, we can go somewhere private." He wiggled his brows, taking your hand as he pulled you up.
Aegon found peace with you, enjoying your presence every time he felt the pressures of being the eldest son weighing on his shoulders. These times where you both escaped together, you found yourself finding some sort of enjoyment finally not being alone in the Red Keep.
It took Aemond a while to approach you, it only happening when he stumbled on you looking after Aegon in his drunken state.
You hadn't expected out of all the people in Kings Landing, Aemond to be the person that helped you drag Aegon to his rooms that night. While you had gotten tipsy that night, Aegon had got past the point of speech. Both you and Aemond having to drag him through the halls not saying a word to each other until you safely dropped Aegon into his rooms.
"Shall I escort you to your rooms?" Aemond asked, walking over to the door.
"I think I will stay and look after Aegon. I don't want him to choke on his vomit in his sleep," you told him, sitting next to Aegon's laid out body.
"Why are you so kind to him?" Aemond questioned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you.
"Aegon has been there for me when no one has," you confessed, the alcohol making your lips loose. "I was alone and Aegon was a friend when no one else was."
"Well if you feel like having another friend, one that doesn't convince you to drown your sorrows but instead to talk about them, you know where to find me." Aemond's hand reached for the door, giving you a small smile as he turned to leave.
"Aemond." You made him halt in his tracks, looking up at him with the deepest sincerity. "Would you stay and be that friend now?"
Aemond nodded, walking back over to the chair opposite the bed. There you spoke, not about everything but finally you felt yourself able to open up about the pain that your family made you feel,  finally allowing it to free you in some sort of way.
You never knew when exactly it happened, maybe among the jealousy as the pair of boys fought over you, but you started to fall deeply for them. You confessed your feelings one night, after your name day celebrations. The suitors had been thrown on you, making you feel dizzy after all the dancing and chatter. When you finally escaped to your rooms with Aegon and Aemond, you realised there was no one else you wanted but them. The words spilled from your lips that night and both Aemond and Aegon reassured you with heated kisses and passionate touching as they took you to bed.
You married both of them a few nights later under the moon and the stars. Eventually you fell pregnant with your first child and you had to confess to everyone especially the Queen and King.
While the alliance between you and Aegon was a shock to Alicent's very core, she realised the advantages to it, not that she would ever admit that to you. She wasn't happy that you married the pair of them and did argue that you could only confess to one marriage to the public. Aemond never minded, he knew that he was in your heart constantly and beside you in your bed every night, who cares if people didn't know you were married. The suspicions were there anyway, the servants and knights seeing the way you clung to both of the princes.
You were happy, contended in life.
Until you saw a familiar face walking in the gardens of Kings Landing, one that you didn't think you see for a long time.
"Princess," Lord Vaemond greeted you, bowing slightly as he stopped.
You stood mouth parting as you found no words for a moment. "I'm so sorry Lord Vaemond, I had no idea you were here," you told him, eyes wide as you looked him up and down.
"I'm sorry that you have not been informed. I'm sure you'll be seeing your mother and brothers soon though," he told you, acting as if it was common knowledge.
Your stomach fell into knots as your face dropped slightly but you tried to cover it with a smile. "Important business I assume. I must get back to my husband, please do excuse me Lord Vaemond."
You were furious as you stormed the halls of the Red Keep, your guardsman trying to ask if you were okay but you just waved your hand at him unable to answer.
Once you reached your shared quarters, you were pointed into the direction of your daughters room by Ser Erryk. You nodded and gave him a quick smile before you stepped in. You were quiet as you closed the door behind you, noticing how Aegon read to Daenys, your daughter, a story. Her gentle snores relaxed you as you watched how Aegon pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before walking over to you.
He grinned widely taking your hand in his as he dragged you out of the room. Aegon could sense your tense body, he had seen all your emotions over the years and could tell how upset you were now. But he didn't dare question it in front of Daenys, not wanting to frighten her.
"My love," Aegon said, wide eyes looking at you with concern. "You seem unwell."
You yanked him into your shared rooms, slamming the door behind you to make sure you had privacy.
"Did you know?" You interrogated him, pushing against his chest with your fists. Your voice laced with venom and anger. "Did you?"
"Know what?" He asked, grabbing your wrists into his hands.
"That my mother is coming because of something with Lord Vaemond," you said, voice dropping at the thought.
Aegon could see the pain and sadness that still lingered there, body trembling and eyes brimmed with tears. "It might of been mentioned in one of the council meetings," Aegon confessed, trying to rack his mind back. "But you know how I don't listen to anything in there. If I had remembered, I would have warned you."
You pulled yourself away from him, shaking your head in disbelief. You felt that dagger back again, twisting it's way in your stomach now as you hauled yourself over a bucket. A sickening taste rose up your throat as you puked into the bucket, collapsing to your knees.
Aegon ran to your side as he stroked your back helping you get everything up. "This stress isn't good for the baby." He turned his head to the door voice shouting now as he called, "I need a Maestor, now."
The door barged open, Aemond sprinting in upon hearing Aegon's voice through the door.
"What is it? What's happened?" Aemond was quick to ask, running to your side.
"She heard her mother is coming and she's worked herself up over it," Aegon told him, still hovering over your frame with deep worry in his eyes.
It wasn't long before a Maestor came, prescribing you some herbal calming tea that could help with the sickness and stress. But he was quick to tell both Aemond and Aegon to get rid of the cause.
Not really much they could do when the cause was your mother.
Aemond slipped into bed beside you, hand resting over your bump as he tried to comfort you. "I'm sorry, I didn't tell you."
You tried to push him away, wanting to be angry with him in the moment. Anger was easier than sadness, the latter just reminded you that you still weren't over the years of abandonment you felt.
"My love," Aemond sighed, pulling your back to his chest. "It is not good for you to shut us out like this. It is okay to be mad at us but please do not bottle up your emotions."
"Talk to us," Aegon chimed in, sliding in in front of you. His hand reached out to cup your face, thumb rubbing against the skin of your cheek.
"You can't make me see them again," you stammered, tears pouring from your eyes as you looked between them. "I won't do it. I wanted to forget about them like they forgot about me. Here is my safe haven and there very presence threatens to destroy that."
Aemond's hand rubbed up and down your arm, trying to soothe your trembling body. "We won't force you to do anything. You can do things when you are ready or not at all."
"The queen will make me see her." You shook your head at the thought, feeling like you were that little girl pleading for her mother to take you back to Dragon Stone. "I just know it."
"I will talk to mother," Aemond said.
_
Each day passed, your nerves erratic as you practically kept to your rooms scared for the arrival. When you did venture outside your quarters, you'd find yourself jumping into empty closet rooms at the sound of someone walking down the hallway. Your personal guardsman had started to find you very amusing, sometimes even hiding with you not to alert whoever was walking down the hall.
Today it happened on your way to the gardens, hearing the voices of chuckles from the around the corner and you scampered into an empty room. Your personal guardsman caught off guard, didn't follow you this time but did wait outside the door until the coast was clear.
The door opened slightly, Aegon's head poking in with a wide grin.
"What are you doing?" He jested, stepping into the room.
"Hiding," you stated, leaning against some old book shelves. "Clearly."
Aegon poked his head out, pulling someone into the room with him. It was Aemond who was shaking his head with a smile that matched Aegon's as he noticed you.
"This isn't funny," you hissed at them, fingers rubbing at your temples.
"This is kind of funny," Aegon joked, closing the door behind him.
"What's not funny is the stress that you are causing yourself," Aemond said, tutting as he walked up to you. "You are constantly looking over your shoulder paranoid that they will be there."
Aegon's body pressed up against your back while Aemond pressed against your front, both trapping you between them.
"Let us take your mind else where," Aegon suggested, licking at your neck as he started to grope at your ass through your dress.
"In here?" You turned to look at Aegon, only for him to catch your lips with his in a heated kiss. You shifted around, facing Aegon.
"Yes in here," Aemond whispered, fingers undoing the laces of your dress. His mouth hovered over the skin of your neck, making the skin prickle in delight until he finally smothered it in kisses. He started to make a trail, licking and sucking as he peeled your dress off of you, making his way down your back.
As soon as your dress was pooling at your waist, Aegon attacked your breasts, firmly wrapping his lips around your nipple. He used his hand to play with your other tit, pinching at your nipple, massaging the skin of your tit. You whimpered at the feeling, head leaning back into Aemond's shoulder as you did.
Aemond covered your mouth with his own, licking his tongue into your mouth to find yours as he gripped onto the back of your head to deepen the kiss.
It was Aegon that ripped your dress completely off of you, getting frustrated with the material between your bodies. His fingers instantly dove to your cunt, coating his fingers in your slick as he slid it around. He found your clit, pinching it which had you gasping into Aemond's mouth.
"You're so wet for us," Aegon chuckled, fingers finally sliding against where you desperately needed him. He circled your clit, moving slowly as he got you worked up. "Brother, you really should feel how wet she is."
Aemond hummed, hand sliding down as his fingers grazed the skin of your ass before he placed it betweeen your thighs. His fingers prodded at your entrance, teasing you with them. "She is so very wet, so easy for me to slip in." That he did, fingers slipping into your spongy walls with ease as you moaned out at the feeling.
With both of boys working on your cunt, you weren't sure how much longer you'd hold out. Aegon's free hand grabbed the back of your face, yanking you towards him in a heated kiss. His forehead rested against yours when he pulled away, eyes dilated with a deep hunger as he stared at you.
"I want to look upon your face as you cum on our fingers," Aegon confessed, quickening his fingers as they worked against you.
You held Aegon's gaze, as you felt your walls flutter around Aemond's fingers. "Oh heavens," you cried out, cumming hard without warning. Your hand grabbed a hold of Aegon's shoulder, both their bodies holding up as you rode out your orgasm.
"That's it, angel." Aegon's hands slowed down as he brought you in for another kiss.
Aemond pulled his fingers out of you, giving you a soft slap to his ass. "I think she's ready."
Aegon peered at Aemond over your shoulder, snearing at him. "Maybe for you brother."
Aemond proceeded to ignore him, pushing you down by your back, lifting your hips up as he carried you over to a table. He had you kneeling on the table, perfect height as your ass pressed into his crotch. You arched your hips back into him, rubbing your cunt against him and leaving a wet patch on his trousers.
"Needy little thing aren't you," Aemond mocked, grabbing your ass cheeks with his hands. He parts them slightly bending down to lick a stripe against your cunt, humming in delight at the taste. "Tell me, what do you want from me, wife?"
"Fuck me, please," you pleaded, arching your ass back into his face. "I need you."
His hand slapped your ass, soothing it over with a kiss. You heard him undoing his trousers, his cock springing up and hitting your slit. He rubbed it up and down, eliciting a whimper from you as it prodded against your entrance.
"Please, Aemond." You looked back at him, sticking your bottom lip out as you pouted.
He shoved his cock in, letting out a guttural groan as your walls clenched around him. He rutted his hips into yours, using his grip on your ass cheeks to fuck into you.
You completely forgot your whereabouts, lewd moans escaping your mouth as you grinded your hips back into him. Your eyes squeezed shut, hand grabbing the end of the table to ground yourself, so overcome with pleasure you found yourself slipping into the seven heavens with the way you felt.
"I think she's going to come again," Aegon teased, coming to stand in front of you. He gripped your hair, turning your head to look at Aemond. "I want you to stare at Aemond while you cum. He needs to see how he makes you feel."
Aemond stared down at you, eyes completely blown out and his mouth agape as he groaned. His fingers grazed your back, moving around your front till he reached your cunt.
"Look at you so brain dead as my brother fucks you," Aegon taunted, rubbing himself over his trousers. "Just desperately waiting for release."
His words rung true, your mind blank as you whimpered.
"Cum for me," Aemond demanded, feeling how close you were.
You were brought to the edge, your core clenching hard around him as you you came, pulling his own orgasm from him. His pace became sloppy as he spilt into you, hot cum painting your walls. His pace slowed down, slipping out of you as his cum dripped out of your cunt.
"Finished already, brother," Aegon chuckled, pushing his brother away to get behind you.
Aemond punched him on his shoulder to shut him up, having Aegon hiss as he massaged the sore spot on his chest. Aemond just rolled his eyes at his older brother, moving to the side of the room.
Aegon flipped your body over, back on the table so you could look up at him. He pulled you up, chest to chest as he kissed you. "By the time I'm done with you, dear wife, I would have fucked another babe into you."
You giggled, arms wrapping around the back of his neck. "That's not possible if I'm already pregnant."
He nestled his head into the side of your neck, sucking and nibbling on your throat. "You'll see what I mean," he whispered against your skin.
Aegon grabbed his cock, only yanking down his trousers slightly, his thick cock resting against your slit.  He rested his forehead against yours as his arm wrapped around your back, supporting you.
"Put it in for me," Aegon directed, guiding your hand towards his cock. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him towards you as you centred his cock at your entrance. You moaned together as he slid in, feeling full again as your walls hugged him. "Gods, that's my good wife."
He gently placed you down back against the table, hovering over you as he did. He kissed you roughly, pressing himself deeper into you as he started to fuck you at an agonisingly slow pace. He lifted himself, breaking away from your lips as he watched your tits with a wide grin.
Your tits bounced for him as he fucked into you hard, making sure to come all the way out and back in. You were gasping, grabbing onto his hand as you gripped it tightly.
"Faster please," you begged, not being able to take the slowness anymore.
"I like it when you beg." Aegon leaned down, his lips turning up into a mischievous grin. "Do it again."
"Please, Aegon. I want it so badly," you pleaded desperately, holding onto his arms.
His hips started to pound into you ruthlessly, moaning into your lips as he rested on top of you. You were so lost in him, consumed by him as you started moaning obscenities from your lips.
Suddenly, the door opened, familiar voices pouring into the room. Your head snapped round to look, trying to wriggle free as you caught sight of your mother stood there.
Rhaneyera's mouth hung up, staring at the pair of you with utter shock. Next to her was Daemon, a scowl on his lips.
Aegon didn't stop his movements, holding you down with the weight of his body as he stared at Rhaneyera. "Sister," he chuckled, kissing the side of your face as she glared at the pair of you.
Aemond stood in front of the pair of you, pushing his way out and closing the door behind him. "We must not disturb the married couple," he said, the smirk evident in his cheery tone.
"Aegon." You looked up at him, wide eyes with panic. "Stop-" the sound of swords being drawn was heard "-stop now."
He peeled himself off of you, groaning as he quickly pulled his trousers up. You followed him scampering to get your dress back on, not bothering with the laces as you held it close to your body.
Aegon yanked the door open, covering your body with his as he stepped out.
The guards were stood between Aemond and Daemon, both with swords out ready to fight. Luckily Alicent stormed round the corner, the Queen stopping the commotion immediately.
"What is going on?" Alicent asked, standing by the side of Aemond.
"Your son defiles my child, that's what is going on," Rhaneyera shouted, gesturing to you and Aegon at the door.
"Children please return to your chambers," Alicent ordered, eyes following you all as you walked away. "It seems I need to catch up our guests on some matters."
_
Your heart was pounding out of your chest once you returned to your rooms, falling onto the bed in a heap. Aegon joined you, ripping away at your clothes that were still not tied up. He was still hard as he pressed himself against you, easily slipping in to your core as he pushed himself into you.
"Aegon, really," you gasped, hips arching into him. "After all that just happened."
"I still need to cum," he told you, pounding his hips into yours. "Besides I think if me and Aemond kept fucking you, keeping you so docile like this, there would be no second for you to have to worry."
You couldn't help it as your lips turned up into a smile, his words amusing you. "I like that idea."
He pushed your legs, wrapping them around his shoulders to reach a deep angle, laughing menacingly as you moaned beneath him. Tears brimmed your eyes as he carried on fucking you, not knowing if you could handle the feeling anymore.
Within seconds you were cumming, your core pulsating around Aegon's cock. His lips hovered on top of yours, moans escaped both of your mouths as he came on top of you, filling you to the very brim. He held you there, not sliding out as he collapsed onto you. Both of you tried to catch your breath as you looked at each other.
"I forgot how good your cunt feels when you cum," Aegon hummed, unwrapping your legs to allow you comfort. "You could make any man cum within seconds with that cunt."
"My love," Aemond's voice called to you, sat on the other side of the room. He looked up at the pair of you and looked back down as he noticed Aegon's ass. "Brother, would you mind moving so I could look at Y/N?"
Aegon sighed, thinking for a second as he looked down at you. He moved, pulling you with him as he flipped your positions, still staying buried deep inside you. You sat up to look at Aemond, grinning widely as you clenched your walls around Aegon's cock making him groan.
Aemond stood up, striding over to you in long steps. He cupped your face with his hand as he reached you, giving you a gentle smile as his thumb brushed over your lips. "I'm going to go check on the little ones and then to training if that's okay with you? Aegon can keep your mind off of things in here." He pressed a soft kiss to your lips as you nodded.
Of course, Aegon had to steal the moment pressing his hips up to elicit a moan from you.
"Of course, my husband," you said, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.
Unfortunately, Aegon wasn't having any of it as he repeated his actions laughing as you broke the kiss to whimper in Aemond's mouth. Aemond glared down at him, shaking his head.
"Sorry, brother but you know you could always stay and join us," Aegon jested, fingers grazing the skin of your stomach.
"Childish," Aemond retorted, giving you a sweet smile as he walked off.
You turned to Aegon, slapping his chest as you scolded him. "Be kind to your brother."
The door closed behind Aemond, leaving you and Aegon alone.
"I was just trying to entice him," Aegon stated, rocking his hips up into yours. "I know how you like it when we both take turns fucking you. But you know I love it when I get you to myself."
"That you do." You smirked, biting down on your lip.
His hands gripped on your thighs, helping you go faster as you started to ride him. He stared admiringly at your tits as they bounced up and down for him. "Gods, you are so fucking beautiful."
_
Aegon loved reading to his daughter at night or even listening as you or Aemond did it. Pampering your children in love felt like it made up for the years of neglect he felt himself growing up. He also found he wasn't as great with babies and he didn't like to hold your son, Aenar, much, scared to not hold his head up right.
That's what Aemond was good for, cradling Aenar till he fell asleep. From the crib, Aegon could watch, cooing at him as he brushed a finger gently down his face.
"Brother," Aemond called from the door, stepping in to the room.
Aegon placed his forefinger on his lips as he hushed Aemond, closing the book he had been reading in his lap. He places a fallen strand of hair behind Daenys' ear and a gentle kiss to her cheek before he strides over to his brother.
"How is Y/N?" Aemond asked, opening the door for his brother.
"I must say I definitely exhausted her," Aegon said, very proud of himself. "She's knocked out."
They both walked together into your shared chambers, Aegon taking a seat by the table while Aemond made his way to the bed. You were curled up into the bed, gentle snores filling the room as Aemond approached you.
Aemond stared down at you, a frown sat on his lips as his fingers played with your curls. "She's going to hate me tomorrow."
"Why is that?" Aegon questioned, pouring two glasses of wine.
"Because mother wants us to show a family united tomorrow." Aemond shook his head. "Our older sister has also requested to see her daughter and grandchildren tomorrow. Apparently the king has approved it and there really isn't anything I could argue to get it stopped."
"Fuck." Aegon handed his brother a cup of wine.
"I was hoping she could just rest here." Aemond took a sip of the wine, turning to look at his brother now. His eyebrows furrowed, taking in the sight of what Aegon was wearing. "Is that Y/N's night gown?"
Aegon looked down at the gown and nodded. "It's super comfortable brother." He grinned striding over to the bed on the other side of you. "You should try it sometime."
"Aemond," you whispered, eyes fluttering open to your husbands' voices. You shifted your body, turning to him as you reached out your hand. "Come to bed, my love."
Aemond stripped himself of him clothes while Aegon slipped in behind you. Aemond pulled you onto his chest as he got in the bed, letting his finger trail over your stomach. Your hand reached back, pulling Aegon closer to your back as he wrapped his arms around your body.
Within moments you'd fall asleep like that, content in each others arms.
_
You were woken the next morning to kisses being pressed to your face as a hand snaked it's way between your legs. You were still so sensitive from your antics with Aegon that you hissed when two fingers rubbed against your clit. Your thighs instinctively snapping shut on someone's arm, looking down to notice Aemond between your legs.
"My love, it is so early." You said, opening your legs slightly to allow him entrance.
"I know but unfortunately today we all need to be up early," Aemond said, in his croaky morning voice. His breath fanned across your cunt making you hiss at the sensation.
"Why?" You asked, sitting yourself up on your pillows.
"I hoped to tell you after I brought you to pleasure," he said, cutting you off from saying more as his tongue reached for your cunt. He lapped at your folds, licking up the juices that rested there.
Of course you were wet already, having Aegon prodding his cock against your side all night left you like this.
He sucked on your clit, holding your hips down as you tried to grind on his face. You whined at his slow pace, your stomach already tingling from how over sensitive it was.
Aegon woke next to you, eyes peering to see what was going on before turning over for more sleep. You laughed at his reaction, shaking your head as you looked down at Aemond who was grinning against you.
You moaned as his tongue worked faster against you, arching your back slightly as you found yourself coming close to the edge. His hands reached up to your tits, pinching your nipples with his fingers. Within seconds your thighs squeezed around him, pleasure washing over you in a rush as you cried out to him. You were seeing stars as you gripped onto the sheets, feeling like you were about to black out.
Eventually you opened your eyes again, wincing when Aemond brought you a soft towel to clean you up. He was gazing down at you with a smile that was wavering as he opened his mouth to speak.
"I have to see my family, don't I?" You asked, face sinking at the thought.
Aemond nodded, sighing deeply as he moved to pick you up on. He lifted you up off the bed pulling you into him as he shifted positions, having you sit on his lap. You hid your face in his shoulder, tears escaping your eyes as you held him close to you.
"I'm sorry," Aemond whispered, fingers dancing up and down your back. "We all have to go to the throne room today but you won't have to speak to anyone there. However, Rhaneyera has demanded to see you and our children afterwards  and she went to father which of course he agreed to."
You felt another hand rub your thigh, realising Aegon must of got up due to your crying.
"I will be with you the whole time," Aegon said, trying to reassure you. "And Aemond will be standing just outside the door."
You lifted your head up slightly to look at them.
"Anyway you are a dragon, my love," Aemond told you, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You have the strength of a dragon and courage. Do not let them make you feel any less than them because you are more than all of them combined."
_
Aemond's word stuck with you through the morning and while at first you felt as if you were going to puke from nerves as you walked through the halls, your stomach settled as you realised they could do you no actual harm.
You held onto Aegon's side in the throne room, eyes glaring over to the other side as you noticed your family. A part of you grew sad at how much your brothers had grown of the years, you barely recognised them. But even that thought turned sour, reminding yourself how that opportunity to grow up with your siblings had been ripped away from you.
As you glared at Daemon and Rhaneyera on the other side of the room, your heart filled with anger and hatred, for all the pain they had caused you over the years.
You were quick to return to your quarters after Daemon swung his sword through Vaemond, leaving your stomach in wretches as you almost hurled on the floor. You gathered your strength up in your chambers but still your skin crawled as you waited for your mother.
It wasn't until the afternoon that your mother arrived, your guardsman opening the door to let her in. The silence lingered in the air for a while as the servants poured you wine and plated food on the table.
Daenys toddled over to Rhaneyera, poking at the end of her dress. Your mother gleamed at her, leaning down towards her.
"And who you might be?" Rhaneyera asked, reaching out to stroke her hair.
You were quick to pull Daenys away, placing her on your hip as you gave a tight lipped smile to your mother. "This is Daenys," you introduced, stroking your daughters hair. "Named after the dreamer that-"
"Saved us from the doom of Valyria," Rhaneyera finished, hand stroking against your face. "I'm guessing you named your son Aenar as well after her father." You nodded. "You were always fond of the stories of old Valyria as a child."
"If it wasn't for that dream, none of us would be standing where we are today." Your eyes welled with tears at your mother's soft touch.
A hand pressed to your shoulder and your attention was brought to Aegon. He wrapped an arm protectively around your back as he smiled down at you. "My love, shall we sit."
Rhaneyera retreated a hand from you, scowling at Aegon now. "May I speak to my daughter alone?"
You looked up at Aegon who was opening his mouth with a smirk evident on his lips.
"Husband." You cut him off, handing Daenys over to him. "Please take the children, I will talk with my mother alone."
"Are you sure?" Aegon asked you, eyes wide with concern.
You smiled up at him, nodding. Aegon pressed a long kiss to your forehead. As he turned to his sister staring, he reached down to your lips giving you a heated kiss. He stared at his sister as he slowly broke the kiss and finally departed the room.
Rhaneyera reached out grabbing your hands as she looked at you with fear in her eyes. "Return with me to Dragonstone," she whispered, pulling your hands up to her chest. "You'll be safe there from my brothers, I assure you that."
You furrowed your brows and laughed, confused at her reaction. It took you a second to realise what she meant by it.
"I chose to marry Aegon and Aemond," you told her, ripping your hands from her. "It was me that confessed my love to them first and it was me that convinced them to marry me."
"Why?" Rhaneyera asked, squinting her eyes at you.
"Because I love them."
"Why?"
"Because they've been there for me when no one else has," you shouted defensively, stepping away from your mother. "Because when I was alone here and lost, they comforted me through it all. Through all the pain and sadness."
"This can't be," she protested, holding onto a chair for support. "They turned you against me and married you to Aegon so they could-"
"No." You pointed your finger at her, shaking your head. Tears brimmed at you eyes as you tried to ignore the lump in your throat, swallowing it down. "The only person that turned me against you, was you. You when you conspired with your husband to leave me here. You when you ignored every single letter I sent begging you to take me back to Dragon Stone."
You brought your hand to your mouth trying to hold yourself together.
Rhaneyera just stared at you completely speechless.
"Aegon comforted me on nights when I would lie sobbing in my beds. He'd tell me jokes and take my mind off of the pain I was feeling," you confessed, hands reaching over your swelling stomach. "Aemond listened to me when I needed someone to talk to, reassuring me it wasn't my fault you abandoned me. That it wasn't something I did."
"I'm sorry." Rhaneyera stepped closer to you to reach out to you. "I am truly-"
"Get out," you shouted, flinching away from her. "You have seen me and my children but I do not need your apologies or an explanation for why you did what you did. I made my peace with it and I am happy here. This is my home now, Aegon and Aemond are my home."
"I see," Rhaneyera said, walking towards the door. She looked back at you for a second, a shared look of pain in your eyes as you stared at each other.
But you turned away, looking anywhere but her.
_
Dinner was no better than you thought it could be. Every time your name was mentioned or a comment was thrown your way, one of your husbands would defend you mercilessly. A wide grin spread on your face at how they protected you at all costs. Luckily you missed the commotion, returning to your chambers once the king had been sent to bed.
When you reached your quarters, you helped put your children to bed, hoping that they didn't feel you had neglected them after the last few nights. But Daenys smiled at your presence, curling up to you as you told her a story.
Then you returned to your own chambers, hoping it wouldn't be long before your husbands were back. Your servants undressed you helping you into the thin night dress you picked out. A dress that was practically see through in the candle light.
You sat on the bed, waiting for your husbands to return.
Both of them stormed in together, smirks on their faces as they stepped in. They were both laughing together, something you hardly ever saw.
"Husbands," you called, directing the attention towards you. "You seem to be very happy, should I be concerned?"
Aemond was first one to greet you, yanking your body towards him as he gripped the sides of your face. He gave you a searing kiss, mouth practically sucking yours.
"Let's just say we defended you gallantly against your family," Aegon boasted, heading straight for the wine on the table.
Aemond wasn't letting up as he pressed you down into the bed, hands grabbing at any part of your body he could get to. "I need you," Aemond told you, parting your legs so he could push his hard on against you.
"Take me," you directed him, helping him out of his clothes. "I want to show you both how proud you've made me tonight."
With your help, Aemond's clothes were peeled off in moments and your night gown was ripped apart in his hands. He held your thighs down to the bed as he climbed above you, cock prodding against your entrance. Without warning he shoved it in, making you gasp in delight as he bottomed out. Within seconds he was pounding into you furiously, not caring that he hadn't prepared you like he normally did.
"Aemond," you whimpered, your cunt squeezing him for dear life.
"I'm not going to last long," Aemond grunted, head resting against yours to look at you. His hips snapped into you like never before, pushing you to something you never felt before. "Gods, this cunt is gripping me so fucking much."
His cock was hitting a certain spot inside you, making you unable to speak as only whines and whimpers fell off your tongue. You felt something overtake you as your pussy clenched around him, a sensation you had never felt before as you squirted on his dick. It sent him over the edge, his cock squirting inside of you, filling you to the very brim.
Aemond collapsed on top of you, nestling his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed.
"What was that?" You asked, not knowing what had just came out of your body.
"I don't know," Aemond said, kissing your neck. "But I liked it. Maybe we should make you do it again."
You giggled, wrapping your legs around him instinctively.
"Do what again?" Aegon questioned, peering around the bed to look at you both. He already stripped down most of his clothes, only his night pants.
"Just our wife's spectacular cunt draining me of my cum," Aemond jested, rubbing his cock up and down your folds.
"Time to move, brother." Aegon tried to push him but Aemond slapped his hand away.
"You had her all of yesterday, I think you can allow me to have her the rest of the night."
"You were more than welcome to join yesterday but you didn't so-"
"Would you both stop," you laughed, pushing Aemond up slightly. "You can share." You crawled to the end of the bed, forefinger motioning for Aegon to come to you. "Come here."
Aegon pressed his lips onto yours as you felt Aemond start to toy with your ass. You broke your kiss, biting down on your bottom lip as you looked up at Aegon seductively. You positioned yourself, back arching with your ass stuck out for Aemond and your head at the end of the bed as your hands reached out to Aegon.
"Now let me show you how proud I am of you," you whispered, pulling Aegon's cock out of his trousers.
Your licked at his head, tasting the salty pre cum there as you hummed in delight. You opened your mouth, taking him in as you started to suck on him, hand stroking the parts you couldn't manage.
Aemond positioned himself behind you, sliding into you again. The pleasure of his cock pushing into you had you moaning around Aegon's cock. Aegon moaned at the sensation, your mouth now vibrating around him.
Each time you needed breath, you'd pull away an attachment of saliva from Aegon's cock connecting to your lips. Aegon's hand gripped onto your hair for support, almost taking over as you took more of him.
"Fuck, Y/N," Aegon hissed, staring down at you completely entranced by the way you looked.
Aemond started to hit into you faster, hand reaching down between you as his fingers found your clit. He circled your sensitive nub, knowing how you'd moan out, practically screaming around Aegon's cock.
You grabbed onto Aegon's hips, taking him fully down your throat. You gagged every so slightly but never let up, allowing him to fuck your face as he thrusted himself in there.
With the feeling of your moans and the wetness of your mouth, Aegon came undone easily. His cum hitting the back of your throat as he spilt his load in your mouth. He pulled out, allowing you breath for the first time as cum dripped from your lips. He reached down using his hand to clean up your face, only to have you suck the remaining bits off of his fingers as you stared at him.
"With the way you're acting, I am going to get hard again," he admitted, pressing a soft peck to your lips.
Aemond quickened his pace, cock hitting into you unforgivingly. You were a wreck, eyes falling closed as you came undone. This time you weren't sure you could hold up, practically collapsing on the bed as Aemond held your hips up. It wasn't long before he came, his cum leaking from your hole when he pulled out.
You were exhausted, thinking you could last long. At last yesterdays antics caught up with you and you found yourself barely able to move.
Aemond pulled you up as Aegon peeled the covers up. Both of them together helped you get into bed as they slipped in beside you. Before they could say anything, you were asleep curled up in your favourite position.
And for a moment Aegon and Aemond shared a knowing look with each other, completely happy in their bliss with you. Both of them cuddling into you as they fell asleep beside you, finding solace in your warmth.
Tag List: (Tag list open here)
 @itsapurrfectstorm @singular-itae @visaera-of-house-targaryen @s0jin.l33 @f4ll-for-you @jallen0126 @piceous21 @schniiipsel @witchy-jadda @hb8301 @riddlewithanxiety @lanadelreyapologistsblog @bwormie  @houseofpendragons  @okfashionista @ophelialaufey @cl-0-vr @julianaaleticia @azzir11 @dsl1999 @auratiqs @targaryenmoony @brb-readingurfic @meggiemay82 @aegonsgf @poppyflower-22 @ietss @lilostif16 @candypurplebutterfly @mandiiblanche @much-adoo-about-smut @valsandoval @jamespotterismydaddy @floswife @auratiqs @yearninginpages @dragonslutsblog @coriellesmarya @esmeralda-tupi @alexxavicry @ebaylee422 @okfashionista @sallyscigarettes @clairacassidy @lokis-queen01
Bold means it wouldn’t let me tag. Check your settings if you want to change this or message me if I’ve spelt your @wrong x
2K notes · View notes