Tumgik
#were those candles even worth this.
lanasblood · 11 months
Text
JUST NETEYAM | neteyam x reader
pairing: olo'eyktan!neteyam x f!reader
summary: despite being from a different clan and expected to marry the leader of the omatikaya without knowing him, you agree to it for the sake of your family, but doubts start haunting you the moment you set foot in the clan, causing you to plan your escape on the day of your mating ceremony.
word count: 8k
warnings: arranged marriage trope, fluffffff, love-at-first-sight kinda thing, a bit of angst in the beginning, traditions, non-sexual nudity, prejudiced reader, royal neteyam, he is just such a prince it's unreal!!
note: all characters are aged up by five years. the title eyktan/eykte (leader) being unofficially reserved for the olo'eyktan (clan leader)'s mate made sense to me since both are supposed to rule together. please correct me if i’m wrong. see end notes for more.
* gif‘s not mine.
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You will learn to love her. He remembered his mother's voice, and he recalled the vast expanse of the sky, where billowing clouds danced gracefully and the wind embraced him with gentle caresses. The sky, like an endless canvas, painted in hues of blue, purple, and gold, held a beauty that stirred his soul. 
Instead of roaring waves crashing against the cliffs, he witnessed the majestic flight of ikrans, soaring high above the jagged peaks. Their wings, strong and mighty, carried him through the heavens, as if he were a part of their elegant dance. Gone were the humpbacked sea surfaces, replaced by the boundless freedom of the open sky. The white foam, once adorning the ocean's crown, now transformed into fluffy clouds, resembling intricately woven blankets. It was as if the heavens themselves provided a soft embrace, offering comfort and warmth.
They were little things, nothing really worth mentioning, such as the sun rays tickling his soft skin, or the laughter of his siblings echoing in his memories, not as they played with ilus in the water, but now as they soared alongside him, sharing the pure joy of flight. Even the taste of sea salt, carried on the wind, found a place in this ethereal domain. With closed eyes, he could almost feel a delicate touch of salt upon his lips, a reminder of the distant ocean and the memories it held. He missed those times. Not because he preferred swimming over climbing, or blue over green, that was completely not the case, but because he missed his youth, even from a time when his family sought shelter. He missed being careless, learning new things, having fun, and he would've laughed at his younger self who, even though rarely, complained about the number of duties and responsibilities he had on his shoulders — because nothing could compare to the duties and responsibilities he faced now as Olo'eyktan.
So for once, he liked to lose himself in memories of the sea before he pictured himself back in the sky, on the back of his ikran, where he found a world of wonder, where every little detail became a cherished treasure. The sky had become his limitless playground, an infinite expanse that awakened his spirit and filled his heart with boundless freedom.
He had been incredibly nostalgic ever since his parents had announced the arrangement for him; how overjoyed they had told him that they had found a mate for him, and he guessed it was self-explanatory why a part of him wanted to hold on to his past; not ready to take that further step. 
Standing there and observing the preparations and exquisite decorations his people had arranged, he realized that the efforts he had endured for this ceremony were not in vain. The Omatikaya had gone to great lengths to create a magnificent celebration, honoring the union of a new pair; the one of their clan leader. Intricate craftsmanship was displayed in the decorations made from natural materials, the delicate floral arrangements that adorned the surroundings, and the gentle flicker of candles all held meaningful details. However, despite the beauty surrounding him, he couldn't help but yearn for the moment when it would all finally be over.
Five moons ago, he had thought not much of it, he had been convinced he'd find a way out of it, and here he was. Trapped in memories, in the infinity of the skies and seas, here, time stood still, so that eternity could begin, and right here he felt well, he felt safe. 
"Bro!" A hand clawed onto his upper arm, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts, as a breathless Lo'ak stood before him — or rather, hunched over, supporting himself with his other hand on his knees, and breathing deeply, inhaling and exhaling heavily. 
"Mawey, brother." Neteyam carefully placed his hand on his brother's head and sought his face, trying to understand the situation. Lo'ak just shook his head hastily, trying to control his breathing. 
"Are you okay?" Lo'ak was clearly not okay, yet Neteyam tried to maintain his composure as unpleasant images infiltrated his thoughts, his mind going through any possible worst case scenario. He hoped that nothing had happened to his family, and involuntarily, he felt annoyed that he hadn't seen Tuk and Kiri for a while, worrying about them.
"I got it, I got it." Lo'ak shook his hand off, breathing normally again. "It's.." He took a deep breath before saying it all at once, "It's your mate-to-be."
Neteyam's ears perked up in alarm. Lo'ak, having somewhat calmed his breathing, cringed, now struggling with his words instead. Perhaps he shouldn't have announced this so dramatically in front of his older brother, because he now feared that one problem would become two.
"Yes?" Neteyam patiently but firmly encouraged him to continue. He was suddenly caught in a conflict within himself, wrestling to keep his expression neutral, knowing that it would raise unease among curious ears and attentive watchers.
Apprehensive of his brother's reaction, Lo'ak didn't know how to say it, "Uh, I kinda… please don't be mad at me."
"Spill it, Lo'ak," Neteyam hissed through gritted teeth, now impatient and slightly on edge due to his younger brother's panicking behavior.
He feared the worst now but he didn't want to jump to premature conclusions. Still, something clearly must've happened and he inwardly hoped for her to be alright and safe. Yes, she was a stranger to him whom he had never seen once, but she was soon to become the closest and most important person in his life after all.
Lo'ak's gaze was filled with guilt, when he unsurely admitted, "I, uh… lost… her…?"
And that was it. All the facial features of the otherwise composed clan leader contorted as he looked at his brother in disbelief. Lost her? How do you lose a grown person? 
The inner leader within him knew that he immediately had to gather as much information as possible about this situation. Finding her before the ceremony was crucial, and he should coordinate efforts with their best trackers and devise a strategic plan to cover all possible areas she might have gone. 
His false, rationalized side tried to reassure him, suggesting that nothing had happened. Perhaps Lo'ak hadn't seen her in the tent, or she had been engrossed in a conversation. Maybe she simply got caught up in preparations and lost track of time. It's not uncommon for delays to happen before important ceremonies.
His emotionally calibrated side couldn't help but worry about her well-being, as well as the well-being of others. What if she had sustained an injury? What if she required assistance? And with a touch of paranoia, he feared something much worse, considering sabotage and abduction.
His reflected psychological side, however, completely dismissed these possibilities, because most likely, his family had intimidated her, and she had gotten cold feet. And if she truly matched him as well as his parents had described, then he could assess her emotional state and he had a feeling where she would be right now. 
Ultimately, his strategically valuable side gained the upper hand and decided to embark on the search immediately, knowing exactly where to start.
"What did you tell her?"
Lo'ak looked at him completely lost, "Nothing, really, just that you're Olo'eyktan," he shrugged, "It's not like she didn't know that already."
And once again, he remembered his elders' words, and for the first time, a subtle sense of doubt began to creep into his mind, when he recalled what they had said:
You will learn to love her.
TWO HOURS AGO. 
"I must inspect her body." You had expected many things, but not this. You had already come to terms with the idea of never being able to make your own choices again after everything you had experienced in the past couple of hours. And yet, you found yourself taken aback by this one simple sentence.
Five moons ago, you had been sitting in your family's tent in front of your parents when your mother had dropped the announcement that had changed everything. That day, you had been feeling uneasy from the moment you had gotten up, unable to quite place why. But when your mother had revealed the news, it had all become clear, changing everything.
"My daughter, you have been chosen by the Omatikaya to become their Olo'eyktan's mate," your mother had said, beaming with pride.
Immediately, your heart had sunk. While you had heard of the clan, you had remained a foreigner to their lands, unfamiliar with their Olo'eyktan, a man you had never encountered. It had become painfully clear to you that you were not ready to unite in a mating ceremony with a complete stranger, devoid of both familiarity and love.
"Do I have to, mother?" you had asked, your voice shaking with emotion.
"But yes, this is a great honor for our family. You were chosen, out of all the clans, out of all the girls in our clan, to marry Toruk Makto's eldest son," your mother had said, trying to convince you, "It's a sign of respect and trust."
"But what if I don't love him? What if we're not compatible?"
"My daughter," your mother's voice had carried firmness, "you are being unreasonable. This is not about love. It is about the well-being of our clan and the future of our people. Arrangements are part of our traditions for generations, and they have served us well. Your father and I, too, entered into an arranged union, and we have found happiness together."
She had continued, her tone resolute, "He is a commendable man. We have known of him and his achievements since he was but a child. As the successor to his father, he carries the legacy of our shared battles against our enemies." You had remembered all of the stories and tales, about a time before your time, about your father and mother fighting against the skypeople at the side of Toruk Makto. "For he led the clans to victory and if his son has inherited even a fraction of his character, you could not ask for a more suitable companion. He is talented, responsible, a formidable warrior, and an exceptional leader."
Your father had spoken up for the first time. "Your mother is right. The Omatikaya are good people, and their Olo'eyktan is a good man. He will take care of you and you will be happy together."
You had felt like you were suffocating at the realization that your own family had been willing to force you into a loveless marriage just for the sake of tradition, honor, and alliances.
"But what about my own happiness?" your voice had been barely above a whisper.
"Your happiness is important, my daughter," your mother had spoken, "But this is not just about you, you have a duty for our clan. You will become Eykte, and eventually Tsahìk, too, you will grant our clan safety and protection for generations to come."
You had known you weren't going to win this argument, feeling trapped, and so, so helpless. Looking down at your hands, you had been feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't imagine a life with someone you didn't love.
Your mother had put a hand on your shoulder. "It is okay, you will understand one day. We are doing what is best for you and our clan. Trust us."
But you couldn't have brought yourself to trust them, not after such a betrayal. You had known you had to find a way out of this marriage, but you just hadn't known how. You had looked up at your mother and nodded, pretending to accept your fate. While you had been internally determined to find a way to escape somehow, your mother had smiled at you proudly, and you would probably never forget her following words.
"You will learn to love him."
And now you stood here, in front of the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya — who was so different from the one in your clan — and were forced to undress and be inspected by her; for what purpose, you were not told, but you assumed that the degree of your flawlessness had to be determined and confirmed before you would be presented to the oh-so-great Olo'eyktan. The thought alone made your stomach churn. 
"Grandmother, she clearly feels uncomfortable."
"Kiri, you know that it is not me who dictates the rules, for they are woven into the fabric of our existence itself," although her words were thoughtful and calm, her facial expression was anything but. Her gaze bore a sternness that bordered on intimidation, contradicting the tranquility of her voice. "Before the sacred union, both woman and man must embark upon this profound step."
"I don't want to," you said with a determined voice, "No one in our clan does that."
"Well, daughter of a great warrior, you are not in your clan anymore. Starting from today, you are Omatikaya, and you will learn to accept our ways if you want to or not." 
A soft cough broke the silence outside the tent, followed by a deep voice asking, "May I enter?"
"Ah, I am too old and weak for such childish affairs," The elderly lady complained before muttering a prayer to herself, clearly at the end of her nerves, and it was more than evident that she was complaining about you and not the man who asked to enter the tent.
"Sure, you can come in," responded the girl standing by your side, who had been your companion throughout the day. Her name was Kiri, and amidst the chaos of the day, she appeared to be the most grounded and relatable person you had encountered; she was clearly the most normal person in this whole clan, that was for sure.
The Tsahìk waved her arms dramatically in the air before clutching her head, expressing dismay, "My days are numbered, and my strength is waning. I cannot keep up with this behavior."
A gruff laughter filled the air as the man stepped into the tent, placing the stack of white fabric on the table before he gently rested a reassuring hand on the elderly lady's shoulder. "Ma dear Tsahìk, you're lookin' healthy and mighty strong, and we're gonna keep you here with us for many cycles to come. No need to worry 'bout a thing, trust me."
"Be careful, jakesully, you begin talking like skypeople again," the woman said bitterly before her stern gaze fixated on you again, "Just where did you find this stubborn girl?" 
Both the man and the elderly lady turned their attention towards you. The older woman's expression held a tinge of disgust, while the man offered an apologetic smile, as if trying to reassure you. Silence hung in the air, and without thinking, the words spilled from your lips, words that had plagued your thoughts since stepping foot on this new land that morning.
"Will I be introduced to the Olo'eyktan soon or…?"
The elder dismissed your question with a scoff, shooting a meaningful glance at the tall man beside her as if to say, Do you see what I mean? Instead of providing an answer, she posed a statement, her tone laced with accusation. "She reminds me of you. Is that why you chose her?"
The man shifted his gaze to you, offering an awkward smile before turning back to the Tsahìk. With confidence that appeared to stem from his own conviction, he declared, "She will learn our ways."
You will learn their way. 
You will learn to adapt.
You will learn to love him. 
The only thing you would eventually learn was to obey.
"Well, she has to learn a lot. That poor soul lacks understanding and respect for our ways and traditions. So far, I'm not convinced she's the right person to lead alongside the Olo'eyktan," the elder remarked, her words heavy with skepticism. 
"Ma Jake? Are you here?" Before anyone could respond, a stunning woman entered the tent with grace and elegance, capturing the attention of all present.
"There is so much more to do, and so little time left," the Tsahìk remarked, brushing off the interruption. 
The woman gently placed a hand on the elder's shoulder, mirroring the gesture of support shown by the man named jakesully earlier. Her presence exuded confidence and a calming aura, diffusing some of the tension in the room.
"Mother," she spoke in a soothing tone, her voice carrying a hint of authority. "Why are you stressing yourself out? It is a big day for your grandson, and you should take it easy."
Grandson. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The family dynamics suddenly fell into place. It all made sense. You found yourself in a room surrounded by the closest members of your betrothed's family, yet there was no sign of him. His grandmother, his father, his mother, his sister were all present right in front of you.
The Tsahìk sighed and looked up at her daughter, concern etched on her face. "I know, Neytiri. But there is so much at stake, so much to be done," she replied, her voice laden with a sense of responsibility. "As the wisdom of time falls upon me and by the guide of Eywa, it is my duty to examine her physical form before the mating ceremony, and all she does is protest and complain."
Jakesully cleared his voice, "I mean, we cannot force her. If she doesn't—"
"She has to, ma Jake," Neytiri, the graceful woman who had entered, interrupted him with a serious gaze, "And she will." Then she shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes filled with compassion. 
Leaning closer to her mother, she said, "You have guided our people for generations, mother. Today, let us handle the preparations while you focus on preserving your strength."
The Tsahìk seemed hesitant to relinquish control, but after a moment of contemplation, she nodded in agreement. "Very well, my daughter. I entrust this responsibility to you and Jakesully. May Eywa guide your actions."
Neytiri smiled warmly, her eyes flickering with gratitude. "Thank you, mother. We will do our best to honor our traditions."
With a sense of relief, the Tsahìk rose from her seat, her weariness momentarily lifted. She turned to you, her stern expression softening ever so slightly. "As for you, young one, understand that our customs are not merely rituals, but a connection to our ancestors and the land that sustains us. Embrace our ways, and you will find your place within our clan."
You met her gaze, a glimmer of kindness in hers as you didn't falter your firm expression whereupon your understanding of tradition began to shift, morphing into a newfound curiosity.
Jakesully stepped forward, his voice resonating with encouragement. "It may seem overwhelming at first, but with time, you will come to understand, trust me."
Neytiri joined his side, her presence radiating strength, "Neither you nor Neteyam are alone in this journey. We will walk beside you, supporting and guiding you every step of the way."
Neteyam. So that was his name. Exactly in that moment, it dawned on you that you had never bothered to ask about his name but so did no one bother to tell you before, as if it was something you should've already known.
"Where is he right now?" you just asked. If the topic of Neteyam had already been mentioned, you didn't want to waste the opportunity. The couple in front of you — his parents — exchanged a brief glance, before you got an answer.
"He is busy with the preparations, but we'll see after him now," Neytiri expressed with a gentle tone and smiled at you. "Kiri will stay here to assist you."
Once again, your question was avoided, and it was becoming increasingly strange. You chose to ignore how one by one, your future family left the tent, leaving you all alone. Kiri had assured you that she would hurry back as she needed to gather some materials. As far as you were concerned, she could take all the time in the world, as it wouldn't change anything about your situation anyway.
"Neteyam." You let the name roll off your tongue, practiced the pronunciation, and let your ears become accustomed to the sound of it. Neteyam. You chuckled to yourself, even though you refused to admit it openly, it was a remarkably beautiful name. At least you had to give him that, you would have a mate with a pretty name. And you could add that to the list of things you knew about him: His name was Neteyam and he was the Olo'eyktan.
You sighed, recalling the conversation with the young man from earlier today. Once you and your brother who took the role as your guardian for today had arrived, this guy had accompanied you through the village, like a personal assistant assigned to you. It seemed as if his main task had been to keep you away from the other villagers, as if you were a disease or plague. Something had seemed off. He hadn't answered many questions, deflecting them instead. And eventually, when the questions became too much for him, he had left you in the caring hands of Kiri and disappeared elsewhere. It had been an interesting encounter with him, for just like Kiri, he possessed an extra finger and hair that gracefully cascaded over his eyes. In retrospect, it dawned upon you that he must surely be a part of the family, and you assumed that Neteyam would likely bear a similar resemblance. Such differences held little concern for you, as they were merely superficial nuances. Before your departure, your friends from your clan had instilled fear within you, weaving tales of demon blood and disfigurement. Yet, you chose to disregard their words, wanting to see for yourself.
Still, the fact that you had not laid eyes upon him and the pervasive silence surrounding his name within the village stirred a faint sense of unease within your core. Could he truly be an outwardly fearsome beast, compelling others to shun him from their thoughts? Or perhaps, he was a cruel leader, commanding such reverence that people dared not utter his name. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing that this enigmatic figure would soon become your better half, your partner in life's journey, and he would be the one to father your offspring. The question lingered, like a whisper in the wind: Could cruelty be inherited, passed down through bloodlines?
At least now you knew your future mate's name.
"…te Suli Neteyam'itan."
"Or y/n'ite," you flinched involuntarily as you heard Kiri's voice when she reentered the tent, and instantly a slight blush crept onto your cheeks, "You know what, kind of eww because he's my brother but it's good that you already think about your children's names," Kiri said smiling smugly.
"I was not—"
"No, I mean it, repeat that in front of my grandmother and she will be head over heels for you." You highly doubted that. 
You spent the next hour doing what Kiri instructed, and it wasn't nearly as daunting as you had imagined. The physical examination wasn't a thorough scrutiny of your body. Instead, you were coated in a gentle, liquid healing clay, and it wasn't uncomfortable to have a stranger touch you. Kiri was remarkably professional, but she asked you not to pose distracting questions while she worked. Later, the clay was washed away with water infused with blessings and flower petals, which filled the air with a delightful scent. Once everything was finished, you felt refreshed and rejuvenated, as if reborn. Only then did other people approach you to dress you in exquisite fabrics, feathers, and precious jewelry, and gemstones. The women all appeared kind, but none of them seemed eager to engage in conversation with you. You sat quietly on the mat, your legs folded underneath you, gazing at the wall ahead, as multiple hands adorned you.
As the preparations came to an end, you had still an abundance of questions left, a multitude of them swirling in your mind, and you voiced each and every one of them, undeterred by the avoidance of an answer.
Is he handsome? 
Is he kind? 
Is he warm? 
Cultured? 
Artistic? 
Athletic? 
Strategic?
You persisted in asking, refusing to give up, until you received a satisfactory answer.
"Is he dull? Not very smart? Mentally slow? I can work on those." 
However, every response you received was completely off-topic, such as "We can discuss the order of the mating ceremony" or "Our Tsahìk sent over blessings for you to recite during the ceremony..." It was beyond frustrating. 
"Is he, like, ugly or something? Maybe he has some kind of physical deformity, but you know, true beauty comes from within anyway and such. Well, not literally from within, but I believe in being a good person and I could deal with it."
At this point, it felt like you were having a one-sided conversation, with question after question piling up like a mountain, and not a single one of them was ever answered sensibly. Instead, you were met with empty platitudes intended to appease you, but it was all in vain: You are going to be an amazing mate, an amazing mother, and an amazing eykte.
Just as you were about to give up, you turned to the young girl who helped you put on some golden beads on your hair, the one that Kiri had referred to as her sister. The youngest Sully child had also joined your company at some point, a truly adorable and vibrant teenage girl whom you had quickly grown fond of. "Can I ask you about your brother?" you feared that the topic was about to be avoided again.
But contrary to your expectation, the younger girl beamed a smile at you and nodded her head in agreement, "Sure, ask away, what do you want to know?"
"What is he like?" You asked your voice filled with curiosity, anticipating her answer and paying attention to her body language.
"I mostly like him, more than Lo'ak at least," the younger girl began venting in a nonchalant tone, "but today I'm so angry at him, he really—"
"Tuktirey!" The stern voice of her mother, Neytiri, suddenly interrupted, causing the girl to look up instantly. The girl fell silent, her eyes wide with attention. "Come help me, please," Neytiri said with a nod towards the forest, before she swiftly exited.
Turning her gaze back to you, a sweet smile still graced her lips. "Don't worry, he's actually the very best," she whispered.
"Tuk!" Neytiri called again, prompting Tuk to rise from her spot.
"I'm sorry, I can't say anything," she hurriedly apologized before rushing towards the tent's exit.
"Tuk, please," you said, reaching out to hold her hand, trying to prevent her from leaving. "Tell me... is he cruel? Is he dumb? I can work with dumb, you know, I just need to know."
Tuk was about to respond when her eyes suddenly widened imperceptibly. You followed her gaze over your shoulder and saw the young man from earlier standing there.
Tuk smiled at you and said, "Did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? You're going to have wonderful children, I know it." And just like that, she left. Whatever she was about to say, first her mother and now this man had stopped her.
"What is your problem?" you asked, irritation seeping into your voice as you stood up from your place. "We were having a conversation, why did you stop her from talking?"
"I would never do that to my own sister," he replied seriously.
So Kiri, Tuk, and this guy, probably Lo'ak, were all Neteyam's siblings.
"Why are you here?" you inquired, your bad mood getting the better of you.
"I'm here to assist," he answered nonchalantly.
"Okay, then you tell me," you demanded, your voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me about the Olo'eyktan."
A thoughtful pause lingered in the air before the guy responded, his gaze holding a promise of an imminent encounter. "You will meet him soon," he assured you, sensing your yearning for immediate understanding.
"I want to know now," you pressed, a hint of urgency coloring your words.
He let out a weary sigh, acknowledging your eagerness. "He is our clan leader — the clan of the blue flute," he began.
"Yes," you affirmed the initial fragments of knowledge that you already knew.
"He has held the esteemed position of the successor of the former Olo'eyktan since his childhood, as he is the firstborn child," he continued, acting as if it were the most revealing information.
"Yes," you echoed, impatience in your voice.
"And for two cycles of harvest time, he has guided us Omatikaya as our chief," he concluded, underscoring the same repeated information, now for the third time.
"Yes," you mused, the repetition of information giving rise to a discerning observation, one that definitely confirmed your gut feeling. "Okay, so you've told me he is the clan leader, he is Olo'eyktan, the chief of the Omatikaya, the firstborn, and the successor since birth... these are all the same things."
"Yes," he acknowledged, his face looking serious and his voice carrying a hint of nervousness, "but they are all facts."
You stifled an annoyed sigh as everything felt so strange here from the moment you arrived until now. It was baffling that nobody, and absolutely nobody at all, was talking about him. It almost seemed like a conspiracy, leaving you perplexed.
You realized your parents were wrong from the very beginning, and that's when you decided to put an end to it. You refused to stay any longer in this clan, let alone mate with him.
"Excuse me for a moment," You muttered as you tried to pass by Lo'ak, but he positioned himself at the exit in a way that blocked any way out.
"I'm really sorry, but you'll have to stay here until the ceremony," he explained, wearing an awkward smile on his face.
"Sure, but I really need a moment of privacy." 
"Yeah, of course, I won't bother you in the tent."
"No, you don't understand," you made one final attempt, but no matter how obvious it seemed, Lo'ak couldn't grasp the situation. He stared at you with a perplexed look as you let out a sigh and concluded your statement, "Nature is calling."
"Oh," his eyes grew wide within a second, "Oh, uh," he stammered, "Yes, um, sure, you can– you can just go over, uh, there," he cleared his throat several times and pointed in two different directions with his hands, a light blush visible on his cheeks, "D-do you know the way? You do, don't you? Should I…?"
"I'll manage, thanks," you gave him a fake smile as you walked past him and headed straight into the forest. Once you were certain that no one was following you, you began to run. Every second counted now, and you had already devised an escape plan. You didn't care about your family or your clan, or the shame it would bring upon them for they had abandoned you anyway. Without a second thought, they had turned their backs on you and your future, so you were ready to do the same. You would rather be alone for the rest of your life than mate with that demon no one dared to talk about.
The soft melody of baby ikrans chirping above you, their cheerful tunes harmonizing with the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees, calmed your nerves a bit. Amidst the serene ambiance, you had fought your way from the woods after running quite a distance from the village, now standing in front of high rocks, your expression reflecting a sense of bewilderment and uncertainty, you looked for a way to climb them up.
Lost in your thoughts, and trying different ways, you remained oblivious to the presence behind you, until a man cleared his throat and approached you.
"Um, are you in need of assistance of some kind?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine concern.
You startled, letting go of the vines on the rocks for a moment and a flicker of suspicion crossed your eyes as you turned to the person. "Uh, I am quite fine, thank you," you responded annoyedly, your thoughts silently questioning the identity of this stranger. Where did he even come from and why did he bother you? He probably knew who you were given your extravagant looks, but who was he? "You can go back and wait with all the other gawkers for the ceremony."
The man's lips curved into a soft smile when he took a step closer to you, his hands resting calmly behind his back. "I...will. But first, I'm curious, what are you doing?" he inquired, his tone curious and laced with intrigue.
A hint of defiance lingered in your voice as you replied, "Nothing." You struggled to maintain your composure, your words betraying your actions.
"You're doing something," he persisted.
Frustrated, you sighed, "I am not."
With the sound of ikrans shouting above you, a moment of pause settled between you. In that fleeting silence, you decided to reveal your purpose, hoping he'd then mind his business and go away. "If you must know, I'm trying to find out the best way to climb over these rocks."
"Climb... whatever for?" he questioned, genuinely intrigued by your confession.
"Because I think he may be a beast. Or a demon," you revealed muttering to yourself, sarcasm in your voice but also hinting at a hidden fear.
Perplexed, the man who had definitely heard you inquired further, "Who are we talking about?"
"Oh, well, that was actually mean of me," you mumbled to yourself, reminding yourself that the man in front of you was probably loyal to his Olo'eyktan and wouldn't like you talking bad about him. That thought made you find some amusement in your own thoughts before speaking louder, "None of your business."
He gazed at you expectantly, awaiting an honest answer. The stranger didn't seem like someone who would immediately betray your secret — later perhaps — but he could be of use to you right now, maybe he could even confirm or refute your theory.
"The Olo'eyktan," you finally added, your voice softer, "No one will speak of him. No one. He is clearly a beast or a demon."
Realization dawned upon him as he nodded, absorbing your words. "Understood."
You turned your back to him, focusing on the rocks again, and suddenly you had a plan, "You know, if I grab there... yes!" you looked back to him over your shoulder, "You could assist me by lifting me up."
Confusion crept into his expression as he hesitated, contemplating your request. "Uh, one question. You do not like beasts or demons? What he looks like matters?"
You rolled your eyes, "I don't care what he looks like. What I don't like is not knowing. Now, here. Just take a hold here," you instructed, pointing to your waist. "With a lift, I... I believe I can make it over the rocks and to my ikran."
He considered your words, pondering the consequences. "People will notice you are missing, will they not?" he queried, concerned for the potential repercussions.
"I will worry about that later. Now, if you please..." you turned your back to him, still determined to proceed. "I just need a little help. Come. Hurry up."
The man licked his lips, caught in his own contemplation, before taking two slow steps forward. "I have absolutely no intention of helping you," he declared, surprising you with his refusal.
You stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him as if you had misheard, giving him the time to correct himself. Your eyes widened in surprise and a bit of anger, too. With sure steps, you approached him, closing the distance between you.
"I'm a woman in need of help. And you refuse?" you confronted him, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The man tilted his head to the side, his expression contemplative. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he responded, his voice carrying a touch of playfulness.
"I refuse when that woman in need of help is trying to go over the rocks so that she does not have to be my mate," he stated, his words hanging in the air, revealing a truth that caught you off guard.
Shock rippled through you, and you gasped softly, feeling as though the air had been caught in your throat. Your eyes locked onto his golden gaze, desperately hoping that you had misinterpreted what he said. But deep down, you knew the truth had found its way to you, settling heavily in your core. It couldn't be... you had seen his siblings, and they didn't possess the distinctive features of the clan. Yet, here he stood, a true Na'vi through and through, without any doubts. He was remarkably handsome, almost too handsome. Yes, you had noticed his striking appearance the moment you laid eyes on him, but then it didn't matter much since he was just a random person, but now, with this revelation, they held significant weight in your thoughts.
He wore a smirk on his lips, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his gaze. He knew.
"Hello, y/n," he approached you, his smile radiant and unmarred by the revelation. As he stopped directly in front of you, he lifted his hand to his forehead, greeting you with a formal gesture. "I'm Neteyam."
The realization dawned on you, and suddenly, the words you had wanted to speak failed to find their way out. Your tongue forgot its purpose as you just stood there, caught between astonishment and uncertainty.
An apology, you thought, your mind searching for the right words to offer at least that.
"I am deeply s..." —orry. Your voice faltered, carried away by the cool wind that brushed past you. The weight of the truth settled upon you, realizing that he was the successor of the former Olo'eyktan, the firstborn of Toruk Makto, your mate-to-be. 
"Ma Olo'eyktan," you stammered, attempting to bow in respect, but he intercepted your gesture. His hands gently caught yours, intertwining your fingers in the process, and he lowered your hand in a graceful motion, bringing your hands together. His hand on yours became the focal point of your gaze, while you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.
"Not your Olo'eyktan," he corrected you in a soft-spoken manner, withdrawing his hand. "Neteyam."
You tried to read his face, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.
"I mean, yes, your Olo'eyktan, but to you, just Neteyam," he clarified jokingly, the sound of his beautiful laugh after made you speechless.
"I am…" you began, but the sentence remained unfinished, your shame preventing you from pronouncing the word 'sorry'. "Please accept my apology. If I had known that you were you—"
He interrupted you, his gaze unwavering. "You would have what? Not told me that you were trying to escape?"
"Well, yes. I mean…" Your words stumbled over each other, attempting to form a coherent defense.
He chuckled, a sound that filled the air around you with warmth.
"I do apologize, ma Olo'eyktan," you said lowering your gaze, your voice a soft admittance.
"Neteyam," he corrected you once again, a gentle reminder. "Just Neteyam."
You nodded, your eyes looking up and meeting his again, the weight of the moment hanging between you. And then, he leaned closer, too close for your liking, and you held your breath when he whispered into your ear.
"The title situation. It towers over us. An accident of birth on my part," a shiver ran down your spine as his warm breath met your skin, "But I thought, maybe, perhaps as my mate, you could ignore it, and I could be just Neteyam to you."
You gazed at him, your heart fluttering with newfound affection. The weight of his words sank in, and you found yourself captivated by the vulnerability he revealed.
"That was, of course, before I found out that you don't want to be my mate," he confessed as he straightened up, and you couldn't ignore the hint of disappointment in his deep voice.
"I didn't say that," you quickly defended yourself, your voice laced with sincerity.
"Oh, you did," he emphasized, now a playful glimmer in his eyes.
"I did not," you insisted, your tone slightly nervous.
"You did," he persisted, his smile widening.
"It is not... mhm. I don't know you," you admitted, your voice growing softer as you laid bare your doubts and reservations.
He stretched his arms out in a dramatic gesture. "I don't know you either," he admitted, his smile ever so wide, "Except that you are terrible at climbing."
You became defensive, a playful spark igniting within you. "You try climbing a wall in all of these," you retorted, gesturing towards your elaborate clothing and jewelry. As you looked up to meet his gaze once more, you found him already watching you, a broad smile adorning his face and a dreamy glint in his eyes. It was a contagious expression that tugged at your lips, and you couldn't help but smile in response.
"What?" you asked softly, your curiosity piqued.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a sincere and gentle admiration. "You are incomparable."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a blush rising to your cheeks. You remained silent, allowing the warmth of his compliment to wash over you.
He continued, his gaze shifting to the left as he spoke, his words a tender confession. "No one told me you'd be this beautiful. You may be too beautiful to be my mate. People will talk... given I'm a demon."
"Ma Olo'eyktan—" you started, wanting to apologize again, your voice trailing off as he corrected you once more with a playful glint in his eyes.
"Neteyam."
You chuckled softly, your heart opening up to the gentle familiarity of his name, "Neteyam," you said softly, giving in to the connection forming between you. The sound of his name on your tongue felt even more different now that he was standing in front of you, almost comforting in its own way.
The sun began to set behind him, casting a warm glow over the lush landscape of Pandora, and a golden hue around both of your bodies. The air was filled with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the moment.
"What do you want to know?" he asked all of a sudden.
"What?" you snapped out of your thoughts, momentarily caught off guard.
"You don't know me. What do you want to know about me?" he repeated, his gaze fixed on you.
You didn't expect this question at all. "That is quite, uh…"
"Mm-hmm," he playfully encouraged you to continue, his head tilted to the side.
"Uh…"
He gave you his full attention making you nervous, a smile playing on his lips, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.
You realized that he seemed to enjoy the situation you were in. Gathering your thoughts, you mustered the courage to speak.
"I suppose... everything," you said, your voice gaining confidence. "I want to know everything about you."
He was briefly surprised, the smile disappearing for a second. "All right," he said, clicking his tongue.
"Uh, everything?" he asked to confirm, and you nodded confidently. "I was born prematurely, and everyone thought I was going to die, but I did not. I am a fair shooter, and an even better archer. My favorite food is srakat vey. I will not eat fungus soup, it is horrible. I like flying and hunting and good conversation. Most of all, I like science."
"Science?" you asked, genuine curiosity in your voice.
"Yes, the study of the physical world, especially astronomy. The stars in the heavens," he explained, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within him as he continued. "I'm quite the artisan. Probably would be an artisan if I were not already occupied." 
Pointing to his scar above his chest, he added, "I have a scar here from falling off my ikran."
"Really?" you asked, surprised at the revelation. He didn't seem to be the type to have experienced such a simple accident.
"Either that or skypeople were the cause, it's long ago," he replied hinting at the mystery, and by the way he said that you were sure that skypeople were the cause of his scar, and he knew that you came to the conclusion as well, almost wanting you to see through him. 
He then pointed at his hand. "A scar here from just being incredibly clumsy with a hunting knife as we were kids." As your eyes focused on his perfect hands, he met your gaze again, and the silent connection deepened. 
"And I'm very nervous," he chuckled, "about mating with a girl I'm only just meeting minutes before our ceremony."
You were left speechless, absorbing the honesty and vulnerability he shared. Nodding understandingly, you appreciated his nobility. "But I cannot show it and climb over rocks and fly away with my ikran because I am Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, and that would cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a demon nor a beast," he reassured, his eyes ever so dreamily locked with yours. "Just Neteyam."
Long, intense eye contact held between you, the unspoken emotions weaving a tapestry of unexplored possibilities. Before you could process the moment, your brother appeared out of nowhere, breaking the trance, 
"Sister, we have been looking everywhere for you. What are you—" he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in awe as he recognized Neteyam. "Ma... ma Olo'eyktan," he greeted respectfully, bowing even.
Neteyam approached your brother and greeted him back. "You must be the man responsible for my possible future happiness."
"Sure. Um, my apologies. Yes. No—" your brother stumbled, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. 
"Well, you have arrived at the most opportune moment. She was just deciding..." his words trailed off as his eyes met yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, "whether or not she wanted to be my mate."
A rush of heat flushed your cheeks, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the scrutiny of both Neteyam and your brother. You watched as the realization sank in, causing your brother's expression to shift from surprise to concern.
"Oh, she is overjoyed to become—" your brother tried to speak, but Neteyam interjected, his voice calm and measured.
"No, she's still deciding. She might go over the rocks instead. Either way, the choice is entirely up to her." The corners of Neteyam's lips curled into a gentle smile, his words reassuring and respectful.
Your heart swelled with awe. The weight of the decision had suddenly become lighter, knowing that Neteyam understood the importance of autonomy, and that he was willing to accept any outcome as long as you were the one making that decision on your own.
Your brother forced a smile, his eyes reflecting a complex blend of emotions. Perhaps he recognized the sincerity in Neteyam's words, or maybe he understood the significance of your journey toward happiness, whatever it was, he kept quiet.
Neteyam broke the silence, his voice filled with a determination worthy of a leader, and a pinch of amusement, "Now, I should get back because I suspect that by now there are some very anxious warriors who think I am kidnapped."
He stepped closer, taking your hand in his, his delicate touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Excitement emanated from him as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.
He said your name with so much passion, you were almost hypnotized by him, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope I see you there." He lingered for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, a silent promise of a future yet to unfold.
With a nod and a soft smile, he released your hand and turned to leave, but then he paused and turned back, "And if so, I am the one standing between Tsahìk and Toruk Makto." 
You smiled. He smiled. 
His eyes met yours for the last time, and in that gaze, you found a reflection of your own desires and hopes. And then he started fading into the distance. The weight of his departure settled upon you, you were left standing there, your hand still tingling from the touch of his lips. The intensity of his presence lingered in the air, and you found yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.
Your brother rushed to your side, concern etched on his face. "Don't tell me you are still hesitating," he said, his voice filled with worry and impatience.
With the setting sun as a witness, you just looked at him, a newfound sense of clarity shining in your eyes. 
Well, maybe this wasn't that bad after all.
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note: yes, this was inspired by that scene from "queen charlotte", and if you can't get enough of neteyam and enjoy the arranged marriage trope, I highly recommend checking out the chosen by eywa series by @randxmthxughts​ and the monster in me series by @andraga12​, their writing is exceptional, and the way they craft beautiful narratives from chapter to chapter is truly magical, definitely don’t miss out on them!! <33
and as always let me know if you like my own attempt at this trope by liking, reblogging and/or commenting 💕
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forteafy · 8 months
Text
Where Do We Go? | CL16 & CS55
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Summary: Charles will do anything to fix his marriage with you, Carlos will do anything to prove you're worth more. The question is where do you go between the two men fighting for your affection?
Word Count: 9.7k
Warnings: angst, a lotta angst, cheating, light smut, character death.
Note: You all really wanted a Part 2 to this one, and of course, I wanted to deliver! This is a little bit more angsty, we’re trying to save a relationship, after all. Or…are we? Also, a massive thank you to @formulaforza for proof-reading this for me and pulling me up on my addiction to italics; my brain is literally jelly right now. Enjoy, everybody!
PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: 'You Think, You Know'
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Carlos Sainz is a best friend. 
Best friends, however, do not text a love confession to one another in the hours of a rising sun, especially not when their declaration is to a woman who is wrapped up in the arms of her husband. 
The confession had run cold through your veins; if it hadn’t been for the sheer exhaustion taking over your body from the events of the past 48 hours, you were certain you would have been up the entire night, contemplating the words he had sent to you. He wasn’t drunk; far from it, the man had driven you down the dusky streets to your home mere hours before. Was he lonely? Did he feel sorry for you? More importantly, did he mean those precious words that had lit up your screen?
Eventually, the desire for sleep, for the warmth of your estranged husband’s chest pillowing your back overtakes your body. You hadn’t slept in a bed with him since the last day of your supposed honeymoon; even then, you had slept with an infinite gap between the two of you, cuddling instead into a pillow, rageful tears in your eyes at the realization that this was now your life. 
This was entirely different. Charles pressed into you as if holding you together; his warm breath danced across the nape of your neck, a hand pressed into your stomach, cradling you between the warm blankets and soft cushions you had picked out when decorating your room. You didn’t rouse during the night, the two before had been filled with tears, constantly awakening to call for your mother as if you were a child again, the harsh realization that she wasn’t around anymore. 
When you did wake, the bed was empty. 
You had subconsciously turned in the blankets when you arose, expecting to see the figure of your husband next to you. The pillow was still rumpled, his glasses disappeared from the nightstand, every single trace of him had seemed to evaporate. Clearly, one night next to you had been a big enough mistake in his eyes. 
Instead, your attention turns towards your phone. Silently, you remove the device from its charger, the homescreen being flooded with sympathetic messages and photographs of you arriving at your father’s home. Luckily, no photographs of Carlos picking you up himself had been released; that would have caused a frenzy which wasn’t desired on either side. 
However, his last text to you that evening before still stayed burned into your screen. In curiosity, you’d once again opened the text thread, seeing th
e words stand strong, his confession to his feelings presents for your eyes. He had laid it out so clearly, Carlos Sainz was in love with you. 
But, were you in love with him? You loved your family; you loved the smell of fresh candles. You adored the sounds of the fastest cars in the world racing around a track whilst you watched with ease. Did you categorize your best friend into the love you so carefully crafted? Was the desire you felt for contact solely directed towards him? 
You never had time to answer yourself that morning. Your subconscious state recognised the sound of footsteps; it was most likely Charles, on his way to his own room for some private time. Maybe he’d have his mistress with him, having snuck out of bed early that morning to possibly go and pick her up himself. 
The footsteps get louder, the door to your room opens, much to your confusion. In the doorway, stands your husband. You’ve never seen him like this; a soft smile, hair pushed back by a bandana, glasses resting on the bridge of his small nose. He’s dressed in a soft, grey jumper and matching tracksuit bottoms, fluffy socks warming his feet. In one arm, he cradles a washing bag. Upon closer inspection, you see that it’s your washing from the case you had lugged in the night before, ironed and folded. In his other hand, he holds a steaming mug of tea. 
He looks beautiful like this, almost ethereal. He looks domestic. 
“Good morning.” He speaks gently, as if any sudden sound would hurt you. You looked…so precious, covered in blankets, your pajamas covering your modesty. “I’m sorry I had to leave early. I went to get your washing done and…pick up some tea.” He offers, holding up the bag of washing in confirmation. Charles offers you a smile as walks into the room, placing the pile of clothing on your vanity. Cradling the mug of hot tea in his hand, he walks back over to where you’re now sat up, surrounded by soft furnishings, offering you the drink which you gladly accept. 
It's a mediocre cup of tea at best; the teabag hasn’t diluted properly, there’s too little milk and too much sugar. Yet, the fact he had made the drink himself caused your heart to soften, despite the past twelve months of actions. You offer him a soft ‘thank you,’ as the drink touches your lips. You’re half-expecting him to stand up and leave immediately. Instead, Charles sits himself down on the edge of the bed, making certain he doesn’t sit on your outstretched legs. 
There’s a moment of bliss; you’re somewhat enjoying the drink cradled in your hands, your husband’s eyes trained on your movements. At one moment, he reaches out his hand towards your face. You flinch, not too sure on what was happening, before his palm simply tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can’t bring your own eye gaze to meet him, simply focusing on the hot drink in your hand. You can’t help but notice the way his shoulders fall, clearly not satisfied with the lack of eye-contact. 
You can’t help it; it’s as if Charles believes with one night wrapped in his arms would solve the past twelve months. You couldn’t forget, not everything that had happened. Your husband had shattered this relationship, well and truly. He could only hope he’d realised in enough time to somehow win you back. Silently, he stands up from the edge of the comforter, walking towards the vanity, beginning to remove the clothing from its basket. It’s… humorous, to see him try and figure out where each category goes. It’s also a stark reminder of how this is ‘your’ room, not ‘our’ room.  
Whilst picking out a rather revealing pair of panties, folding them up and placing them into your draw, he begins to speak again. “What are you doing this afternoon?” His voice is soft, but in the silent room it carries well.
You shrug, before realizing Charles has his back to you. “I’m…nothing much.” You cut yourself off, placing the cup of tea on your bedside table, letting your hands pull up the comforter a little higher. “My father is going to the funeral parlor today.” Are you…having a conversation with your husband? “How about you?”
“I have lunch with the Ferrari team this afternoon. Nothing serious, just a talk on the next part of the season.” He explains. Charles isn’t stupid; he knows despite your father’s input that you constantly worry about his job. Not because you care about his fame, wealth or power; you care about him. 
“I was,” he takes a breath. “I was wondering if you would like to come along.” 
You feel goosebumps prickle across your exposed skin. Charles Leclerc never invited you to his lunches. He’d always have a reason as to why his darling Mrs. Leclerc could never attend their lunch meetings alongside him. The only time you’d ever appear by his side, fingers harshly interlinked and a cold barrier between you both was when your father insisted upon it. He wouldn’t be there today, there was no way he’d be present for any form of meeting for a while now. 
“You don’t have to, of course.” His explanation runs further. “I know it might be too much for you now. I just thought…maybe we could go for a drive after. Carlos and Xavi will be there, you’ll know some of the others from the Paddock…” His voice trails off in your mind. It had started to  the moment he had said the Spaniards name. 
Were you… ready to see Carlos? The day after a text message you had never thought you’d see. Would he acknowledge the message, was it a drunken mistake? Most importantly, did you want him to love you? 
When you come back out of your trail of thoughts, Charles is still talking, carefully hanging one of your summer dresses onto a velvet coat hanger. He takes a moment to brush the fabric under his fingertips, feeling the soft cotton under his touch. He’s so gentle. The touch is almost identical to the way he had held you mere hours ago.
“I’ll come.” You cut him off, watching as his head snaps in your direction, eyes bright underneath his glasses. “Yeah. It will be…nice.” You finish your sentence, trying not to ramble or to float off topic. Charles’ eyes are still bright, elated you had decided to come alongside him. All he had to do now was fix every other mistake spanning over twelve months. 
Carlos Sainz is a red-wine gentleman. 
You’d immediately spotted him the moment you had entered the waterside restaurant; his back was to the entrance, but you’d recognise the powdered blue shirt and dark wisps of hair in any circumstance. You could have just walked over, stood next to him and ordered a drink, but your fingers stayed tightly interlocked with your husbands, a force of habit in public at the current rate. 
However, his grasp, like the entirety of his actions over the past twenty-four hours, was different. Charles’ thumb gently stroked over your knuckle, his fingers gently resting against yours instead of the firm grip he usually held for the sake of actions. He’d taken a moment to look at you before entering the building, something he’d never done in the past, simply having dragged you into whatever location instead. It was as if his eyes told you a million things; that he had your back and the moment you wanted to leave, he was right behind you. 
The moment you’re in the presence of company, the façade still comes alive, the act you had been creating for all this time is still a force of habit. Charles’ hand comes around your waist, greeting the many members of the Scuderia Ferrari team, thanking them for his time and attention to the matter. As always, you tactfully excuse yourself from the side of your husband, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and removing yourself from the crowd. Usually, he wouldn’t so much as flinch from the chaste action, but you don’t miss his eyes longing for you to stay this time. 
Instead, your heel-clad feet press through the tiles of the place, making advancements towards the white marbled-bar. You receive a nod from the friendly-looking gentleman mixing cocktails, a silent signal to let him know when you’re ready. Maybe you stand too close to Carlos, so much so that you can smell his cologne, you can feel his body warmth radiating through that shirt. It doesn’t take long for him to notice your presence, his eyes widening upon the realization that it was, in fact, you–the woman he had confessed his feelings to less than twelve hours ago. 
“I didn’t realize you’d be here, Mariposa,” he taunts, pulling you into his side. You’re grinning immediately, happy to be reunited with your close friend after how he had left you last night, promising he’d be there if you needed anything. “Come to make sure your husband behaves?” 
“No. I came to see how his teammate is behaving.” You let him ponder for a moment, but he realizes, the blush growing from his neck to his cheeks. “I’m a married woman, Carlos.” You remind him but make no attempt to move further away. The idea is completely eradicated when his hand comes out to rest on the small of your back. His eyes are still fixed on you. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not fair to you. He couldn’t care less about his teammate’s position, the way he’s treated you all this time leaves a sour taste on his tongue. 
“Your marital status doesn’t change the way I feel for you.” He thinks back to that moment in the ocean. What on Earth would be happening if he had kissed you at that moment? He could never be certain, but something tells him you’d be his date to this luncheon right now. Sighing, Carlos turns to face you directly, the bottle of wine he had originally come to pick up having been left on the counter. 
“I’m going to ask you something, and you don’t have to respond.” He tries to keep his breathing calm, your presence practically overpowering him. “But...I would love to take you out for a date sometime. A proper date. With flowers and dinner and being able to make you smile.” Your heart is softening by the moment with the Spaniard’s pleads of everything your husband had never given you. “Would you like that?” 
“I would.” You don’t even have to think of your response. “I would like that, Carlos.” At that moment, your estranged husband is the last thought of your mind; instead it’s overpowered by the fantasies of a date with the man standing in front of you. This time, Carlos can’t help the grin on his lips, reaching for the bottle of red wine on the bar. His careful hands carefully unlatch the stopper, the liquid hitting two crystal glasses, one of which he passes to you.
“Well, shall we toast the idea, no?” he holds up the glass delicately, to which you raise your own, grinning at the satisfying sound of clinking crockery. When you take a sip of the rich red, you’re blissfully unaware of your husband’s eyes; the ones which are never attached to you, but in that moment, don’t want to focus on anything else. Nobody misses the way he purposely sits between yourself and his teammate, fingers interlocked into yours tightly, the occasional kiss on the temple of your head. 
You were his wife, after all. 
Carlos Sainz is a brilliant cook. 
The intimacy between yourself and your husband had oddly grown within the past week. To start, his messages became more frequent, checking in when he couldn’t be at the house. Your pantry had stocked overnight, begging for your home cooking whenever he could be there to sample it. Most importantly, the interaction. You’d been hesitant to even let your husband touch you in the beginning. You had kept it simple, a hug before you’d headed off to bed in your room, (sleeping in the same bed as him had been that one-off.) His arms would find their way onto your waist if you were cooking, his fingers would tuck a lock of hair behind your ear when you found yourself engrossed in studies. 
Your husband had been elated when you had spoken to him two days before he was due to leave for Qatar, announcing you would like to attend alongside him; it was also your father’s wishes to attend that race, wanting to signal to his fellow associates that he was okay, that you could pass on a message from your family. Charles’ eyes had glossed over with happiness, taking your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of your knuckles. 
You were ready for your entrance to the Paddock 72 hours later; after arriving in Qatar, you’d barely seen anything from the transport from his jet to the hotel. Your eyes had grown heavy the moment your feet were removed from their shoes, two large beds welcoming you with their soft blankets and heavy pillows. (He’d made sure to give you the sleeping space that you needed.) Charles’ heart had softened when he’d seen you curl into one bed. When he returned from the bathroom, you were out like a light. 
It didn’t stop him from gently rubbing a makeup wipe over your features, knowing you’d regret your lack of attention to appearance in the morning. Hesitantly, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline, one hand stroking over the back of your head before he returns to unpacking both yours and his suitcase. 
You had been hesitant of attending the Paddock alongside Charles that morning, not because you were worried of the bombarding questions. No, this was the first time you had attended the paddock with a husband who seemed comforted by your presence. His heart felt gentle when he saw you look out of the front windscreen, eyes transfixed on the countless photographers standing by the barriers. Immediately, his hand finds yours, resting atop your thigh, the hot weather pleading for a cooler outfit. 
“You don’t have to do this.” He removes his sunglasses, those ocean eyes finding your own. “You can wait here, or I can have somebody drive you back to the hotel now.” He promises, the worry flickering over his face. Your hand removes itself from his firm grasp, instead reaching forward and resting your hand on his bristled cheek. 
“I’m okay.” You promise him, thumb dancing over his soft cheekbone. He offers you a soft smile, eyelashes fluttering as your face gets closer to his; you have no panic leaning over the console of the hire-car, gently pressing a warm kiss to the cheek your hand wasn’t resting upon. You can’t help but hesitate when you pull back from his face, lingering within mere millimeters of his lips for a long moment; you could just lean forward, press your lips to his and give into all those nights you had dreamed of. But this wasn’t a dream; this was your husband whom you needed to fix a relationship with first. 
Charles isn’t going to lean forward and kiss you himself, not until the signals you are giving him are crystal clear. Instead, he presses his forehead close to yours, tips of your noses gently brushing against one another before he steps out of the car, and you’re quick to follow. 
This time, he doesn’t walk in silence, ignoring your presence. Instead, as the two of you flash your paddock passes towards the security guards, he’s openly commenting on different happenings around Media Day, both of you falling into giggles upon seeing Toto Wolff’s broken arm; he was truly beginning to become an icon at the local emergency room. You’re happy. Subdued in a bubble alongside your husband, hands interlocked as you work your way through the paddock. 
You’ve never experienced such a harsh blow to reality when you see an all-too-familiar figure lurking outside of the Williams Racing building. Her hair is shorter, her skirt is skimpier and a ghastly color. However, she still looks beautiful. She is undoubtedly the woman you’ve fought and lost your husband’s affection from, his mistress. 
Charles seems to clock less than a moment after you do, both bodies freezing upon notifying her presence. You seem to have a quicker reaction time, despite being in the presence of a world-class Formula Driver. Immediately, you rip your grasp from Charles’ hand, showing him no emotion as you step away and into the Ferrari Building. You’re fortunate enough to avoid most of your fathers’ colleges, only once having to stop to give a sympathizing message of your mothers’ passing, the words being used are minute compared to the ache in your heart for her presence. 
When you reach the top of the dark stairs, almost certain you can hear Charles’ voice below you. He’s searching for you now, but instead is overwhelmed by the amount of people in his presence. You’re able to sneak through the makeshift corridor, finding a large number ’55,’ pressed onto the door. You don’t even think, opening the door to a very tanned, very shirtless Carlos Sainz.
He's so… toned. The natural light from the window is reflecting beautifully onto his chest, broader than you’d last seen during your adventures at sea. His shorts hang low on his waist, making no attempt to shift his body despite your appearance. Instead, his dressing is overtaken by his concern for your face, immediately dropping the shirt fisted in his right hand, taking your gentle face in between both of his palms. You didn’t even realize the tears resting on your cheeks, the fear glossed over in your eyes that you’d ever trusted Charles.
Carlos doesn’t need to ask; he saw her on his own entry to the Paddock. Admittedly, he had to double-take; surely Charles wouldn’t have the audacity to bring his mistress to the other side of the world. He didn’t bother to glance in her direction too long, instead greeting the Ferrari team, excusing himself to go and get changed for their upcoming press appearances. In this moment, he’s held you against his bare chest, hushing you gently as one hand threads through your hair. Your mind is overwhelmed, from seeing your husband’s mistress, but from being pressed against his oh-so warm chest. 
You don’t even realize, but your palms are resting on his chest, his skin so soft beneath your touch. Carlos gently hushes you, tilting your head up to face him, still cradled in his grasp. He could so easily reach forward, claim you there and then, but he realizes in that moment, under your soft touch and those doe eyes, you are the one who has claimed him. After a moment, he pulls back, motioning for you to follow him towards the couch, littered in Spanish-themed cushions and the enormous chili plushie you had bought him several months ago. 
You can’t help the slight disappointment when Carlos eventually slips on his Ferrari Polo; however, you are interested when he reaches for his small fridge, pulling out a neat lunchbox, motioning for you to grasp it whilst he reaches for another. Curiosity takes the better of you, gently unclasping the lid of the Tupperware box. A beautiful aroma overtakes your senses, a carefully crafted meal nestled into the lunchbox. The Spaniard can’t help but grin at your reaction; sometimes something as simple as a homemade meal could lift your spirits.
And that’s how you spent the next forty-five minutes, sat on the sofa of Carlos Sainz’s driver room, the man sat on the floor as the two of you exchanged bites of food. There’s one particular moment where you offer him a spoonful of your lunchbox, watching as he arches his torso towards you. 
It’s almost…sensual, the way his lips wrap around the top of the spoon, maintaining sole eye contact as he retracts his mouth from the utensil, letting his tongue trace around his lips for a chase of the taste. He knows what he’s doing; in his mind, all he wants is to show how adored you could be, to show he could be everything your husband never was.
It isn’t until Charles is finally free from the bombarding questions of his sponsors that he finally locates you in Carlos’ room. The man isn’t oblivious; he can see that the two of you have grown undeniably close. He can’t bring himself to say anything on the matter. He knows, in his heart of hearts, he has no right to make any assumptions; he was the one who had spent hours with a mistress, after all. Silently, he opens the door to the driver’s room, your figure perched upon the sofa, a grin plastering your soft features. You looked happy.
You looked like the most beautiful girl he had seen in his life. 
You acknowledge his presence after a few moments, standing up from your place on the sofa, insisting the man tries Carlos’ cooking. It takes less than a few blinks of your eyes for him to submit, taking the spoonful off your utensil, making a comment towards his teammate that he would have to give him some lessons at some point. The man says nothing, simply nodding in a passive agreement. 
There’s a sharp call for Charles after he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He shoots both you and his teammate an apologetic look before he makes his way down the corridor, gently closing the door behind him as to give you a sense of privacy; the last thing he wanted was to have you plastered all over social media pages when he knew it would purely be used for publicity purposes. 
You’re still smiling when the door closes, your back to Carlos’ front. “He seems to like you-“ 
You were destined to never finish that sentence. Within a split moment, there are warm hands, rough hands resting on either side of your waist, twisting your body within his grasp. He takes two steps backwards, enough pacing to have your back pressed against the closed door: the coldness of the wood contrasting violently with the heat radiating off your best friend. 
He couldn’t hold any emotion. Carlos Sainz wears his heart on his sleeve. That much is adamant, from the way his text messages were drafted, to the way he tilts his head, meshing his lips to your own. 
They’re surprisingly soft; there’s nothing soft in the way his hands grasp at your waist, the way his body is pressing so deeply into yours. Yet, as his lips continue to entrance yours, they feel like clouds; a gentle stroke of a paintbrush. His artistry continues when his kisses get deeper, one of his hands enclosing yours, bringing it to rest around his shoulders, pushing the two of you closer together. Your other hand is interlocked by his, being stretched above your head, pinned to the door you’re resting upon. 
He's waited so long for this, before lunch, before your moment in the sea. He’s wanted this since the moment you walked into the Ferrari Paddock alongside your father, you must have been etched into his heart. 
Carlos isn’t thinking; his kisses are becoming rougher, one hand blindly reaching for your leg, almost bare from the shorts you had opted from your wardrobe earlier. He guides it to rest upon his hip, grunting when he can feel his hardened crotch press between your legs. His reality comes crashing down when he feels the cool band on your fingers entangling in his hair. Your wedding ring. 
Ragged breaths, panting, he pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead to your own in a sheer plea of comfort. Both your breaths are synchronized, both grasping for some form of air in the room. 
“You’re everything, Mariposa.” He whispers, closing his dark eyes, enjoying his moment, taking every opportunity to imprint the feeling of your body, of your lips into his mind. He prays this won’t be the last time he holds you this way. 
Carlos Sainz is a fast texter. 
In the moments after you had shared the intimacy, hidden away in his driver’s room, he’s gone into a sheer panic. He’d overstepped, he’d made an advancement on you at your most vulnerable. When he had left for the press alongside your husband, he didn’t have a single chance to pull you aside, not when you had left the moment after the duo had been pulled into their press conferences. Simply, you were not waiting around to catch glimpses of the mistress, still proudly flocking around the Paddock as if it was her home.
It had taken a matter of moments to request a car home, having slipped out of the Ferrari building, talking to one of your father’s colleagues about your departure. Silently, you paced out of the building, a direct beeline towards the car park, head down from the ever-present photographers. 
You hadn’t expected a text from either your husband or his teammate, considering that they were both in press conferences until further notice. However, when you had felt and grasped the device in your shorts, you had immediately noticed the soft vibrations, pulling your device out of your pocket, your eyes being illuminated by the screen of your phone. Two text messages. One from your father, one from Carlos. Your attention is drawn to the latter, curious on what your best friend has to say. 
11:32: Carlos Sainz: 
I’m really, truly sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I haven’t seen Charles yet to let him know you left. You don’t have to see me again if you do not wish. 
11:36: You
It wasn’t you at all, I promise! I was aware that Charles’ mistress was about, I couldn’t stick about for that. 
Carlos messages you back, almost immediately. You’re confused, considering he is due to be in press alongside Charles. He could be having a break; he could have completely skipped out on several media appearances. 
11:38: Carlos Sainz
I wish you could have stayed longer. I meant what I said, every single word. Please let me know if you need anything.
11:41: You
I know, C. I appreciate it, even if I express it terribly. I’ll always be here for you, too. Always. 
You never get to see the next message that Carlos sends to you. Instead, your phone starts ringing, an incoming call from your father. You’re certain that the chauffeur won’t mind you taking the call whatsoever, holding the device to your ear as your father’s tone fills the void, his words becoming numbing as he runs through the details of your mother’s funeral, the tears in his voice beginning to swell heavily. 
Charles had left the Paddock as soon as he got notice of your departure. He hadn’t bothered to message, his sole focus being on returning to the hotel, to find out what on Earth had happened to you. He was fortunate enough to escape the wandering eyes of his ex-mistress, how on Earth she had gotten into the Paddock for that race was beyond him, especially since he had ceased contact from that day. 
The car arrives swiftly outside of the hotel; immediately, Charles is rushing through the back entrance, beelining for the staircase; waiting for an elevator at this moment would be too much. Within moments, he’s fumbling for his key card, pushing the door open, his heart shattering at the vision in front of him. 
You, his wife, sat on the edge of one of the king-size beds; your head is buried into your hands, heavy sobs racking through your body. He can see the goosebumps littering your skin, the solemn shakes running through you, the trauma of losing somebody you cared about so deeply, combined with a cocktail of emotions from your entrance to the Paddock had become too much. 
He doesn’t care about boundaries, not at this point. Immediately, Charles has crouched in front of you, his gentle hands reaching to grasp around your wrists. There’s a flinch at the sudden contact; your skin had overheated from the sheer energy of crying; your husband’s cool touch was a stark contrast which made you shiver. Delicate touches pull your hands away from your eyes. They’re so red, so swollen. Had he ever made you react like that from his own actions. The Monegasque doesn’t want to question that right now, he can’t even bring himself to look into your broken eyes. Instead, he feels as your arms wrap around his neck, hiding your face in his neck, craving for somebody to just…hold you. 
Your husband has no issue in that desire; he lets you remain like that, Charles on his knees whilst you cling to him, the tears dampening through his shirt. One hand slides across your back, kneading gentle circles into your skin. At some point, you move onto the bed, the man lying back on the soft furnishings whilst you rest your head on his chest, arms encircling you as if he could hold you together, until the storm in your mind passes. 
When the tears subside, you finally find the energy to look up to your husband. He hadn’t reached for his phone, tried to find some form of entertainment whilst he held you to his chest for hours. Instead, his gaze had been fixed upon you, brushing a gentle stroke over your cheek, his fingers dancing against your skin, brushing away the tension from heavy lines and sobs. When your eyes do open, you’re greeted with a soft smile, Charles leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. 
“Do you need some water?” His concern is to bring you back up to health; now the tears have stopped, he can do this. “I can order some food; would you like that?” His voice is so quiet, as if a simple loud sound could shatter through your veins. You can’t muster up more than a nod, your body becoming colder when Charles’ gently shifts away, sitting up so he can reach for the telephone. His voice is so mesmerizing, speaking down the line as he requests different foods; he doesn’t mind how much he orders, if he can coax you into even eating a little, the man will be satisfied. 
The call finishes, but the man doesn’t sink back down into his previous position. Instead, whilst he remains sat up, Charles guides you to join him, your body still aching from your emotional breakdown. He murmurs under his breath as he pulls you into his lap, your body is tense until his strong arms wrap around your waist, the warmth instantly allowing you to relax, lean back into his firm chest. 
“I’ve wanted to speak to you for a few days.” His voice is soft, but the phrase causes you to feel a sharp panic dance down your chest. Surely, this can’t be good. The relationship had evolved from barely speaking to intimate conversations within a span of two weeks. You try, try so hard to keep a clear mind as your husband continues to address you. 
“How I’ve acted…how I treated you, all that time-“ He must stop himself, trying not to let his own emotion overpower his words. “I’m never going to be able to take it all back, and I will never be able to stop apologizing for it.” His whispers, his eyes growing misty with regret. “I will never forgive myself for how I treated you, nor do I ever expect you to forgive me. But…I want to try. I want to try and spend the rest of my days as you husband. I know…it won’t be overnight, but I’ll do anything, anything for you.”  
The tears are rolling down your own cheeks now; never, in your wildest dreams, did you expect for Charles to speak those words of affirmation to you. His hand moves cautiously, to your face, wiping the tears which were pooling across your features.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, letting one of his hands remain on your cheek. The man leans forward, pressing gentle butterfly kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose…he pauses, mere inches from your lips. He wants to kiss you; he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to push you; his mind and his heart are complete opposites. 
His mind goes into overdrive when you lean forward and press your lips to his own. They’re salty, slightly chapped, but undeniably something he has been craving for oh-so-long. Charles is immediately kissing you back, his grip around you tightening, keeping your body close to his own. Carefully, he shuffles the two of you back into a lying position, never once breaking the kiss, tumbling back onto the mattress.
Of course, you don’t miss his grumble of annoyance when the food eventually arrives.
 Carlos Sainz is a gentle kisser. 
An autumn breeze was strong on the dreaded day; the funeral had rolled around way too soon for your liking. Rows of family connections, close and distant friends lined the outside of the cemetery, eyes all transfixed on the black hearse rolling into view. Murmurs were pressed into silence, a bitter air all-too present as the ivory coffin was removed from the vehicle. Your elder brother and two cousins were to assist in carrying the piece into the church. Plans were soon suspended when the eldest of your siblings collapsed into tears, head in his hands upon the sheer realization that this was it.
Your father is desperately looking around, practically praying outside a place of worship that the eldest could pull himself together; it’s impossible. Whilst one of your arms is occupied, holding the hand of your young sister, the other gently wraps around his torso, comforting him in the ways he had done for you when you were nothing more than a young girl in messy braids and mismatched socks. 
His wife stood on his right-hand side, adamant on consoling the man as you were, a caring hand running across his back. Your husband stood next to your sister, her childish eyes blinking in confusion; just like you, she had never seen her brother this inconsolable. 
Charles feels a pain wash through him, he wants nothing more than to help his dear family through this moment. Maybe the act he was playing for so long was just a way of shielding himself from caring. Now he had bared his soul towards you, pleading for a second chance, the man wanted to be there for you, in every sense of the word. 
He murmurs something incoherently, stepping away from your side, leaning towards your father’s ear. Whatever he mumbles is met with a sharp nod, a firm pat on the shoulder in confirmation. Your husband keeps a firm gaze on the coffin, not catching your own eyes as he walks towards the piece to join your cousins. There’s a quick whisper between the men, before the ivory is shuffled from the car, resting on their suit-clad shoulders. Silence falls over the attendants as your mother is carried into the church, immediate family following closely behind. Hesitantly, your eyes look to the crowding people, and as if by fate, you see his dark eyes, the fluffy curls brushed back to conform. He shouldn’t look that good in a dark suit. 
Most noticeably, his gaze isn’t fixed on the church, on the six men carrying your mother. It’s transfixed on you. 
The service is beautiful, if you can describe it like that. Flowers are placed atop of your mother’s coffin, the service of words correlating to her soul, the hymns sung were always her favorite when you had frequented church as a young girl. However, there’s a turning point. When the priest begins to speak of her dear children, tears pool in your lower lash-line. You want to take the time for yourself, to mourn, but louder sobs are emitting from next to you; the youngest child is beginning to realize her mother is truly gone. 
You’re torn; pulling her towards you would only make you cry harder; you had already seen your father and brother fall apart, silently knowing you would have to be the one to wait by the door, thanking the copious guests for attending. Her tears are suddenly quietened when you see her gently shuffled into Charles’ lap; despite the estranged relationship for the past twelve months, he’d always had a soft spot for your sister, she reminded him of when Arthur was young. Whilst her tears turn softer, he runs a hand over her back, letting the young girl rest her heavy head in his sternum. 
The open gap in the seating allowed for you to shuffle closer towards your husband, his free arm wrapping around your torso. You had to remain sitting up straight; his presence right now would have to be enough for your comfort. To any unassuming eye, you would probably look like a family, the crowds of attendants would have no idea of the true story behind your marriage. Even on the darkest days, the narrative was played well.
When the service draws to a close, final prayers are spoken. The first to rise are your father and brother, both clinging to one-another as they must leave the building. Silently, you pull yourself away from your husband’s grasp, smoothing the skirt of your dress. Charles remains seated, your sister practically passing out atop of him. Today had been a heavy day for a child, after all. 
There are rows of people pausing to console you on your loss whilst you stand at the door of the church; friends you had known for oh-so-long, members of the Scuderia Ferrari team; you had never seen Fred Vasseur cry, but the redness of his eyes told you something completely different as he took one of your hands in his, squeezing it in apology. 
The pews filter out silently, a large group of the guests making their way back to your father’s home, the wake soon to begin, a blessing and want of your late mother. Sharp footsteps are emitted through the church, the penultimate duo being your husband and sister. He was still carrying her, head resting on his shoulder, almost completely asleep. Charles smiles at finally seeing you, using his free hand to run across the back of your head. 
“I’m going to take her back.” Charles explains to you. He understands you don't need the pressure of looking after her atop of everything else bound to come your way. “Let me know when you’re done here, please?” Silently, you nod, no hesitation needed as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, bidding you farewell as he paces out of the church, holding your sister tightly in comfort. 
You believe that’s everybody, ready to collect your belongings and thank the priest for a heart-warming farewell. Before you can even think to turn around, there’s a light cough, emitting you to spin on your heel. 
He’s there. Still clad in his designer suit, hair pushed back behind his ears. Undeniably, Carlos Sainz looks good in any situation. He holds your bag in one hand, the other reaching out to clasp around your wrist. You gasp at the warm skin pressing to your own, heat radiating through your body. The man leans down, letting his lips brush against your own, a sweet feathering brush pressing onto you. Carlos wanted to be there for you, more than ever on what would be the hardest day. 
Seeing Charles take that position had made his blood boil. 
His grip on you remains tight as he leads you out of the church and towards his own car, parked in the most secluded section of the lot. When his grip falters to hold your hand instead, he doesn’t aim to correct it, instead only holding tighter. He only removes his grasp to unlock his car, sliding himself into the driving seat, pushing the recliner back as far as it would go. When the space is present, he guides you to rest atop of his lap, arms tightening around your waist as he lets the door close, bodies pressed together tightly. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, keeping your faces so close together. The built-up emotion, the desire since your last kiss had built a fire in your stomach, not so much as speaking before pressing your lips to his own. Whilst your own movements had become desperate, craving for some form of emotional release, his remained feather-light, one hand tangled into your hair, the other resting firmly on your waist. 
His lips are soon ghosting over your cheek, fluttering across your jawline and landing on your neck, small whines emitting from your lips as he seeks to trace his tongue over your sweetest spot. The sensation across your body, the hot touch of his skin and an undeniable bulge now settling between your legs. 
There’s a sudden realization that you needed to go home. Being with Carlos was the affection you desired, your heart knows however that right now, your family needs you. Hesitantly, you pull away from the man’s lips, feeling utterly guilty for the pleading look in his eyes as you rest your forehead against his own. He could never hate you for it, though. In his eyes, you could never draw that feeling from him. You don’t need to say anything, he knows. 
“I’ll drive you back.” He murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before allowing you to slide into the leather passenger seat. 
The drive to your father’s home is almost silent; there’s an occasional rev of the engine, various horns from different cars along the highway. A part of you always prays that each drive with the Spaniard could last forever, you could drive into the distance and live happily ever after. The fairy-tale is soon dissolved when you pull to the driveway, hearing the engine of the car cease. Your eyes find Carlos’ side profile, still transfixed on the road ahead. 
“Are you coming in?” You ask gently. He sighs, the grip on his steering wheel becoming tighter.
“I can’t see you that close to him, Mariposa.” He murmurs, finally finding the courage to look you in the eyes. “Not when I want to be that close to you.” One hand finds its way off the wheel, entwining your fingers together, peppering light kisses against your knuckles. “Please call me when you go back. I’ll miss you.” 
“I’ll miss you too.” You whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. In that moment, Carlos Sainz is your savior. He’s your truth. 
Carlos Sainz is a liar. 
Your knuckles had turned white from the grasp on your phone, you didn’t want to believe anything you were seeing. What was supposed to be an impromptu browse of Twitter whilst waiting for your husband to finish in the en-suite, had turned into a deep dive through a certain hashtag, having seen information spread on a certain Ferrari driver.
It had started as a simple few tweets, some fans and gossip pages reckoning they had seen the driver in an exclusive club, some random blonde sitting on top of him. The photos came second, though the angle was skewed, the quality too weak to see who was there. The final nail was the video; Carlos’ hand placed on her waist, how he had done to you mere hours ago, his mouth pressing against hers, clearly nothing else on his mind. 
Granted, you knew you had no right to feel the anger you did; after all, you were married, Carlos was a single man, free to do as he desired. Yet, your rage was fuelled by the romantic, now seemingly empty promises he had made you; how you were his everything, how he would treat you better than Charles ever did. He was no different than Charles Leclerc, and as your fumbled fingers reached to his contact, your rage felt inclined to tell him that. 
The phone rings once, twice, three times. You’re set to hang up, leave a particularly nasty text message to the man before the line connects. Immediately, your eardrums are overtaken by the loud pulse of a nightclub, some feminine laughter almost directly on top of him. 
“Are you okay?” He asks. Clearly, he’s now intoxicated, his accent is always thicker when he is. You hear another voice, telling him to hang up the phone and to come and dance with her. “Hey- are you there?”
“I’m here.” You snap; why do you feel this enraged? You must have done so when you first saw Charles with his mistress; that had become such a common occurrence that the fire in your stomach must have eventually drained. “And clearly, you’re busy with the woman climbing all over you.” 
“Fuck- you left me hanging!” He retorts, drunken mind clearly pressing against any form of sober thought. “You went back to your husband. Left me with nothing. Fuck the funeral.” He snaps, clearly now becoming enraged with the entire situation, with the fact he had been caught out. The words pressed through the speaker of your phone and emitted a wave of sobs from your stomach, immediately pressing the red button on your device.
Carlos Sainz wasn’t in love with you. He just liked the distraction. 
Of course, as fate would have it, the moment that your tears began again was the moment Charles had left the bathroom. He’s dressed in just a pair of boxers, chest bare and tone after his warm shower. The sound of the door opening caused you to turn to the source. His eyes widen, scampering towards you, cradling you in his arms, bare chest against your cheek. Silently, you sob into his body for the third time that day, wanting nothing more than for every form of pain to stop.
“Hey, come on.” He whispers, arms circling your body, pulling you tight against him. He thinks that seeing you cry will get easier each time, that the pain in the pit of his stomach won’t continue to eat him away. However, it never gets easier; he hates seeing you cry, every single time. “It’s been a long day, yeah? Let’s get some sleep, baby.”
The nickname sounds foreign on his tongue, though neither of you question it. If anything it causes more emotion to flicker through your body, the fact that your estranged husband was finally beginning to give you. Silently, he guides the two of you into the large bed, cradling you to his chest as he had done whilst in Qatar. Sleep and emotion overtake you, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as a ‘thank you,’ before drifting into a state of slumber.
The sleep means you miss a vital update from the Twitter threads you had been closely following earlier. 
‘Carlos Sainz leaves exclusive club ALONE, despite dating rumors arising with mystery blonde.’
Carlos Sainz is your best friend.
You returned to the following day; the entire time remaining at your father’s house had consisted of nothing but tears. You had been especially concerned for your sister, watching the way she had clinged to Charles when the duo was saying their fond farewells. After a tight hug from each family member, your husband hand interlinked your fingers together, guiding the two of you to his own car, each free hand carrying along the suitcases. 
The first hour of the drive home had been quiet, the buzzing streets had morphed into greenery, the sun beginning to set across the coast. Your eyelids couldn’t find it to grow heavy, having done nothing but sob and sleep for the past twenty-four hours. Instead, your focus turned to the radio, a familiar song trickling out of the speaker, one you hadn’t heard in almost eighteen months. 
“Is this…” You ask, fingers reaching towards the dial, turning the volume up slightly. Behind his sunglasses, Charles grins. You hadn’t expected him to recognise the song, let alone be aware of where he recognised it from. 
“Our first dance.” Your husband laughs, both nodding your head to the music. One hand on the wheel, he reached out his other hand to grasp yours on his own, a gentle squeeze passing through each hand. “We’ll have to dance to it again, properly next time.” He promises to himself, eyes focused on the road as he continues to drive you both home. 
It’s almost dark by the time you have arrived back at your driveway. The stones are dipped in the darkness, the only illumination being from the headlights of Charles’ iconic vehicle. Your eyes flicker towards the doorstep, convinced the sleep is playing tricks on your mind; why on earth was there a figure standing on the doorstep to your house? They were slim, feminine, holding a cream envelope in one hand, a designer bag resting atop the other. 
The familiar feeling of who she was began to nestle in your stomach. Surely, it couldn’t have been her; even your husband would not have the audacity to invite her to the house, right after you had returned home from what was quite possibly the saddest moment of your life. It couldn’t be her, even if every sign pointed towards the truth, you’d begin to search for the tiniest detail; her hair was too short. Your stomach snaps when you realize it’s the identical haircut from the Paddock mere days ago. 
“What on earth-“ You hear your husband begin to speak, turning off the engine to the car. He looks over to your figure, but you show no emotion, no reaction on the exterior. Immediately, he has stepped out of the car, violently slamming the door behind him, causing you to snap out of the trance the woman had placed you upon. 
Your eyes fixed upon Charles, his mistress trying to reach out into his touch. She’d pressed the envelope into his hand, continuing to speak. The words were clear through the thin glass of the car’s windscreen, divorce, pictures, evidence. 
You couldn’t stick around to watch this activity play out. Immediately, you reach out for your phone, breathing uneven as you scroll through the contact list, searching for his name. Despite the last twenty-four hours, you were not too sure who else to call. It takes less than a moment for him to answer, your words rambling and falling over one another, pleading for him to come and collect you. He speaks firmly, commanding you to stay in the car, he would be there as soon as possible. 
Charles is so deep in conversation, pleading for his mistress to reconsider, that he doesn’t see you slip out of the car, stepping down the driveway into the awaiting car of Carlos Sainz. He makes no intention to show you affection when first stepping into the vehicle, his only intention to get you out of the situation as soon as possible. Whilst silence filled the space between you both, you had sent a text to your husband, confirming your disappearance. 
23:01: You
I’m so sorry, I can’t be there when she is, not anymore. I’ll be back at the house tomorrow. Thank you for everything.  
There’s no response. If you’re completely honest, you were not expecting anything else, not whilst he was engrossed in conversation. The street is quiet as you pull into Carlos’ driveway. Saying nothing, the man simply removes his keys from the ignition, before leaning over your frame to open your door, ever the gentleman. Of course, his eyes catch yours as he leans back, creating a deep gaze for oh-so-long. Carefully slipping out of his gaze, you leave the car, walking up the steps to his apartment, the door opening for your arrival. 
It's homely. Clearly lived in. Shoes are thrown across the entrance mat, coats hanging in the rack. Although it is primarily basic, a little bare, there’s touches around the complex which warm your heart; a photograph of the man with his sisters and father, a helmet you immediately recognise as Lando Norris’ resting atop of a bookshelf. There’s fine wine glasses resting atop of his coffee table; clearly ready for their usage before your untimely call. 
The details become irrelevant the moment you feel his warm arms circle around your middle; the rising of your hoodie lets his body heat radiate onto yours. Carlos doesn’t need to say anything, his face comes towards the joint between your neck and your shoulder, using his nose to brush your hair away, exposing the skin he craves to mark. 
“Mariposa.” He whispers, hiding his expression in your soft skin. “I can explain her, I can explain who she is, I didn’t-“ 
This time, it’s you who rolls around in Carlos’ touch, your arms entwining around his neck, pulling his lips to touch yours. The Spaniard does not need convincing, his grip on your waist immediately tightening, pushing your bodies closer together, if that was even humanly possible. This time, when his lips begin to trail down your neck, there’s no hesitation left in your mind, letting the man dance across your skin, leaving small bites, trails of his tongue against you. 
You realize it’s you, making a small whine as he pulls away from your body, catching his breath whilst his tanned arms reach to the bottom of his shirt, exposing his chest once more. This time, your fingers fumble to find the hem of your hoodie, pulling the clothing atop of your head, exposing the laciest bra Carlos had ever seen. There’s a grunt from the back of his mouth as he darts forward, one rough palm scooping your breast from the lingerie, his mouth immediately finding your nipple, tongue tracing across the sensitive skin whilst his stubble rubs against your exposed flesh. 
He doesn’t let up, not even when your legs go weak. His mouth remains firmly attached, using his arms to instead scoop you into his grasp, your whining sheer pornography to his ears whilst he carries you into his bedroom. 
He will simply ruin you for every other person, and god forbid if he lost you now. 
You realize hours later, somewhere between your post-orgasm haze and the combined warmth of Carlos’ hoodie and his firm arms that best friends did not have intense, body-numbing sex in the middle of the night, specifically when one of them was married, the other one a close friend of her husband. Yet, it somehow feels normal, as if this had been the longest impending explosion. Of course, you had explained to the man the reasoning for calling him out so late, for him to simply hush you, promising you would have never been a burden to him. The further questions of what is to come next are pushed to the back of your mind. 
Your sleeping state misses two key moments. The first? The slight camera shutter from a phone as Carlos places his device back on the nightstand, snuggling down into the blankets, his dream to hold you whilst he slept finally arising.
The second? Your phone finally buzzed with a response from your husband, unable to sleep without knowing you were in the large house alongside him. 
02:51: Charles Leclerc
I’m in love with you.
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jaeyunluvr · 26 days
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she loves me, she told me
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his palm felt warm, wrapped around yours as you walked through the chilled evening air. jaeyun looked majestic under the dim moonlight, and you couldn't help but stare at him.
it's been almost three months since you've been spending your time as his lover, and you couldn't help but fall head over heels for him, every single day. he was the sweetest man alive, and utterly adorable. you didn't think you'd get this lucky.
despite the blissful existance of your love for him all hidden in your heart, you never told him that you loved him. of course you've showed it in subtle ways like that one time you bought a puppy plushie just because it reminded you of him. like that one time you made him a scented candle with a scent that made you think of him.
but there was something about this moment that made you want to say those words to him. the way his eyes sparkled as he spoke, the way his brunette hair strands graced the side of his forehead, the way he held your hand with utmost care like you would disappear into thin air if he ever let go.
he made you feel comfortable in your own skin, he made you feel like you were worth everything. he wouldn't trade you for the world.
you were walking towards his home, as you begged to walk him home for once and he let himself be your princess for today, only because you were so desperate. jake was talking about this and that you weren't even paying attention to him. you couldn't handle the commotion in your head and heart. you had to tell him.
you were almost at the door of his house, which also meant you had very little time to talk to him.
"jaeyun?" you spoke. he hummed in response, raising his eyebrow at you because you just interrupted him.
you felt your heart beat against your chest, you swore to god he could hear you. he turned to you, holding your face in his palms. he bent to reach your height, locking his eyes with you. you could see the concern on his face. to him, you seemed like you had a lot on your mind and it bothered him.
"what is it, princess?" he asked in the most gentle tone ever. guilt crept over you as you realized you had worried him within the span of seconds.
"i love you." you let out the breath you didn't notice you were holding in for so long.
"huh?"
"i said i love you." you said once again.
jake let out a gentle laughter, both filled with happiness and the heart flutter you just gave him.
"i love you too sweetheart." he inched towards you, engulfing you into the warmest hug. you could hear his heart beating out of his chest and you let out a giggle. he was just so adorable, it made you feel all fuzzy inside.
you both pulled away from the hug and you gestured for him to head inside. jaeyun didn't want to leave at all. he took a few steps backward, his hand still holding yours. he paused and looked at you with a-few-more-minutes-please face, a little pout gracing his lips. you shook your head indicating a no and told him to get inside before it gets too late. for a matter of fact, you didn't want to leave either.
jaeyun dramatically fell to the floor as soon as he closed the door behind him. heeseung raised an eyebrow at him and uttered a 'what the fuck', slightly concerned at his friend's actions.
"she told me she loves me." heeseung rolled his eyes in annoyance as he walked past jaeyun, continuing to munch on the macaroons he was earlier having.
just then he heard a knock on the door. he was clearly confused but opened the door to find you there. concerned flashed in his eyes again. why did you come back?
"baby what is it? did something happen?" he looked around to find some creepy guys but found none. his hands were on your shoulders and he looked at you worriedly.
"jaeyun it's nothing, relax." you smiled at him.
"then what is it?"
"i just..." a little blush crept up to your cheeks. you felt a shiver through your whole body, you were so nervous. you took a hold of his jacket as you gave him a little pull so he can reach your height. your right palm rested on his cheek as you leaned in to press your lips against his soft ones, leaving a tender kiss onto his lips.
jake's breath stopped. quite literally he was gone. you just kissed him? on the lips? he wanted to do this for so long but he was so nervous. he didn't find the right time nor the right place. his heart was beating out of his chest, he absolutely had no idea what to do.
the incident started to sink in as you pulled away and the cutest smile spread over his lips, his pearl white teeth in display. jaeyun was stagnant for a bit too long and you wanted to run away cuz no way in hell you just kissed the love of your life for the first time. you knew he liked it but you were too shy to stay there so you took a few steps back to indicate you were leaving.
jaeyun reacted way to quickly to this and pulled you back onto himself by your hand.
"y/n oh my god. do you want me to die?"he breathed out with a little chuckle. you raised a brow at him as you smiled with utter adoration for your boyfriend in your eyes.
"you should've given me a heads up, i need to prepare for that."
"you're being so cheesy right now." you laughed at him, while you hit his arm a little, the blush on your cheeks getting more and more evident.
your laugh. he loved it.
jaeyun couldn't do it anymore. he was melting into a puddle at this moment. he physically couldn't anymore and he threw himself at you, hugging your body like it was a plushie. he felt like a little kid. you hugged him back, running your palm up and down his back to soothe his excitement down.
"yn i love you so much! i love you! i love youuuu!!!"
"oh i love you too, jakey!"
jaeyun pulled away from the hug and despite his will, he told you to leave because it might be dangerous for you to get home if it's gets too late. you walked away with the widest smile, turning your head back once again, only to see your puppy boyfriend, jumping slightly as he waved his hand to you with the most adorable smile.
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seventies-arcana · 9 months
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PAC: you're someone's muse; this is how they'd describe you
good evening lovies, i hope tonights super moon is treating you well. in this pac reading, you will find out how someone would describe you if you were their muse. this reading is purely for entertainment and enjoyment purposes.
ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should pick, then read the corresponding message. images are not mine
pick a picture to begin✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
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pile one (the field): pleasing + give way
you are such a pleasing and enjoyable person to spend time with. the things you are able to do, no matter how minuscule you might find them to be, are awe-striking. there's a passion behind your eyes that adds to the radiance that surrounds you. with this, you are very attentive. you remember things people say which makes others feel seen in a way they've never felt before. you're down for whatever in the best way possible and it makes you someone that could only ever be described as fun to be around. you're adventurous at heart and consider home to be wherever your loved ones are. this makes people feel safe around you. the smell of late summer, campfires and sunflowers is something to be associated with you. you're a breath of fresh air.
pile two (the clementine): care + apple of the eye
oh, you are just so sweet. so kindhearted. you care for people so deeply and love so wholeheartedly. you make people see their insecurities as something to find beautiful. your hugs make people feel protected, it is easy to fall asleep when wrapped up in your arms. your eyes are mesmerizing, so easy to get lost in. one moment, they are doe-like, the next, the exact opposite. it's the way you flirt with your eyes that makes others feel so weak in the knees. but this doesn't make you cheeky. in fact, you are loyal and committed to the one you love. because when you love, you love intensely. you are a romantic at heart. your energy is reminiscent of candle lit homemade dinners that begin a night of endless cuddles. of fresh florals and luscious baths. you are a place of comfort.
pile three (the cat): challenge + puppy energy
you will never lower your standards or settle for someone who isn't what you want, and that is just so attractive. you know what type of relationships you want and that adds to your appeal. not just anyone can be the reciprocator of your divine affection. you speak to people once and they cant help but want to learn more about you. you're siren-like without even intending to be. once you truly let someone into your heart, you become such a lovable softie. you are so sweet and wholesome when you love, no one would ever guess it. your reminiscent of fresh linen blankets in perfectly cool rooms. your touch is soft and soothing. when you smile, genuinely smile, it brightens the mood of anyone around to see it. to be able to receive the love you give is one in a million. you are unlike anyone else.
pile four (the beach): no judgements + new perspectives
you are the model example of how everyone should be. you are accepting of people, no matter their status, and care deeply for those who may have been overlooked by others. you treat people however they treat you. you know your worth and will never let someone tarnish it. you are unapologetically yourself and that is something so rare to find, it makes others captivated by you. nonetheless, you are mysterious. you savor some aspects of yourself and only show them to the people you love. these aspects of you are the most rewarding thing to experience. every now and then, you can be mischievous. but it is all in good fun. you are filled with surprises and each one of them adds to your allure. you remind others of violets and nights spent walking along the coastline. you are utterly captivating.
please like, follow, and reblog! i appreciate it a lot :)
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omitea · 1 month
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄
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. ft. t. fushiguro
. content. emotionally unavailable toji, brief mention of intimacy, toji being an asshole n lacks communication, allusions to cheating (not true), breakup, angst.
. note. fuck toji, he deserves the angst. kinda sucks. too lazy to proofread.
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it is a well known fact that the man named toji fushiguro is a cold hearted man.
the same man who does shady business for a living, the same man who used to have a different girl every week in his bed and the exact same man who was the most self-absorbed being one could lay their eyes on.
when you first met him, there was something quite intriguing about him. his dark bangs hanging above his green eyes— beautiful yet intimidating to gaze at. the sharpness of his jaw, the soft pink color of his lips that are adorned by a scar at the corner. if you were to guess, he was probably around his early thirties.
yet you felt something— more likely your gut telling you that this man is purely surrounded by dark shadows. shadows that will consume your light bit by bit as you step into the darkness that awaits. dimming your flame like a single blow can put out a candle. or how quickly a popsicle could melt on a hot day by the pool.
but you longed for something. something a part of you knew he wouldn’t be able to give you. maybe a part of you hoped that the man you were welcoming into your life wouldn’t be so bad. wouldn’t take advantage of your pure heart you were willing to give. but as days pass, weeks, months and eventually a year— you realize that some people aren’t deserving of good things.
he arrived home after two days of staying who knows where. sometimes he was out for a week— longest was two. whenever you asked, he would just brush you off. not giving you an explanation, keeping you in the dark with your own racing thoughts. communicating is something toji isn’t the best at, if you even wanna call it that. it’s something he deeply lacks, and doesn’t bother to work on. you tried. trying multiple ways for him to open up, but failing each time as moments go by.
during intimacy, you never seem to feel connected to the man. grunts and moans of pleasure, but none seem to sound or feel like love. not even the supposedly sweet words he mumbles in your ear while rutting his hips against yours. everything feels empty. and soon enough, your heart will too.
“toji,” you sighed, following behind him as he relaxed on the couch. no answer. “toji, can you at least spare me a moment?.” at that, he finally looked up to you. you couldn’t explain the expression he bared on his face. maybe a mixture of irritation? or exhaustion?
“where were you?,” you question. a simple question that kept you up at night on days he wouldn’t come home. it always made your skin itch— wondering if maybe there was someone else he found home in.
“non’ya business,” he grumbled. you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep focus on the random show that was playing on the television. you shifted on your feet— contemplating whether it’s worth it to keep pushing. that was the only was in this situation to seek for answers.
“it is my business when i’m the one who’s waiting here like a fool,” you said bitterly. bitter like the black coffee he liked to drink in the cold mornings, bitter like the burnt food that sat on the stove when it was long forgotten during a make out session. maybe even more bitter than his next words.
“yeah, most likely a fool if ya think m’ gonna tell ya shit,” he grinned. the side that adorned his scar lifting up. “‘m home now, aren’t i.”
you felt angry. hands shaking as you convinced yourself not to choke him right here and now. you took a deep breath, “can you at least pretend to care? about me? about this fucked-up relationship?.”
he shrugged and placed both of his hands under his head. “for such a feared man, you sure are a coward,” you mumbled. by the time those words left your mouth, the room felt colder and a shiver ran down your spine. you’re far from scared of him, but it’s more about the situation that’s gonna worsen.
“the fuck did ya say to me?,” he stood up. his nose flared as he inched closer to you. “ya don’t have any idea how hard it is to put up with ya shit,” he spat. your eyes remained on his, daring him to speak further. he ran his hand down his face, laughing as he shook his head.
“fucking hell, for all it’s worth, being away from you was probably the best i’ve felt in months.”
you took a step back, scoffing. “then where were you all those times, mhm?.” the question remained. picking at your skin— eating you alive as each second ticked on the clock. it was quiet for a few seconds, it felt too long for it to be so.
“probably fucking some random bitch behind your back,” he said rather calmly. as if it was the most normal thing you’ve both exchanged today.
shit
your heart dropped, your knees felt weak and your brain began to pound against your skull. your breath hitched and before you knew it, the image of toji began to blur. eyes stinging and soon the tears started to fall down your cheeks.
toji remained still. blank expression evident on his face as he tried to calm his heart that was ready to jump out of his throat. he didn’t mean that. he swears he would never. he doesn’t know what came over him.
the sniffles he heard coming from your shaking body made him snap out of it. he should say something, anything. drop to his knees begging you to hear him out. but no to avail, he stays put. he’s not the type of man to do that, he promised himself.
toji isn’t the type to express his emotions, to wear his heart on his sleeve. to make you feel loved, to make you feel understood. but instead he makes you feel the opposite. unwanted, not deserving of love, worthless…
he sees you walking towards the bedroom, guessing you’re grabbing your stuff to leave. his scarred lip twitches to call out to you, and he finally understands. he knows that he’s truly the only one who was undeserving of you and your precious heart all along.
so he stays behind. watching your back as you head out the door without uttering a single word. and that was the last time you’ve seen him and the last time you would ever settle for less.
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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explorevenus · 4 months
Text
birthday girl ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom
word count - 3.1k
description - after months on end in captivity, your special day arrives. leon plans to make it your best birthday ever.
tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, reader is in captivity (it's loosely based in the universe of my fic something permanent), no use of Y/N, pet names (puppy, princess, etc.), daddy kink, dubcon, reader gets put on a collar and leash, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v, breeding kink
a/n - a birthday gift for my chaos puppy wife @nexysworld ♡
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
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"Do you know what day it is, princess?"
You were a little bit shocked that those were the first words out of Leon's mouth when he came home from work that day. He didn't ask you about your day, he didn't implore you to ask about his, he simply asked you if you knew what day it was, and of course you didn't. You had no way of knowing. It almost made you nervous that this was a test.
Warily, you shook your head. "I don't know. What day is it?"
His smile widened, more than reaching his eerily warm blue eyes as answered you, "It's your birthday."
You hadn't really thought about it. By now you'd sort of forgotten that time was even real. "It's my birthday?" You tilted your head.
Leon nodded sweetly, tipping you up by your chin so he could gift you with a barrage of soft kisses. "It is, and if I have anything to say about it, it's gonna be your best birthday."
Eyeing him curiously, you said nothing, and he didn't either. He just took your hand and brought you down to the kitchen, where you were mildly surprised to find quite the spread waiting for you. Laid out on the kitchen island was a beautiful cake decorated in your favorite colors, a takeout bag from what was once your favorite restaurant when you weren't being held captive and two small boxes wrapped in pink paper. You couldn't help but wonder when he found the time to do all of this.
"What do you think, angel?" He asked, a hand at the small of your back as he watched your face closely for your reaction.
You approached the island slowly, inspecting the cake like a piece of fine art. Based on the intricacy of the decorations alone, it was obviously not inexpensive, and now you were extra curious about what could possibly be in those boxes.
"Thank you," You responded, turning around to face him, and despite how much you hated throwing him a bone, your next words weren't entirely ingenuine, "This was really thoughtful."
You never imagined something as simple as a spontaneous birthday party would be enough to make you feel a little bit normal again, to remind you that time is still real. 
Leon drew your body in close so he could plant a kiss at the crown of your head. "It's my pleasure, really. The day my princess was brought into this world is one worth celebrating."
What you weren't expecting was for dinner to feel even more normal somehow. You didn't feel like a captive as you and Leon sat across from each other in the low light, sharing casual conversation over your favorite meal from a takeout box like it was just another day. By some stroke of luck he even poured you a glass of wine. 
Out of extreme caution for your safety, of course, Leon didn't light any candles on your cake before he cut you a slice, but he did prompt you to make a wish anyway. For the first time in a long while, it didn't even occur to you to wish for your freedom. You silently wished that treatment like this wouldn't be saved solely for your birthday going forward.
When it came time to open your presents, you were intensely curious. It was long since evident by now that Leon had studied your life and your interests long before he ever took you in, so there was no telling what he might have thought up for you. As you carefully untied the ribbon on the smaller of the two boxes, your heart began to race a little bit. Leon's gaze was practically burning holes into you as you opened the box.
Inside was an immaculate ring, and you didn't even want to imagine how much it must have cost. The band was lined with small glittering diamonds that came together in the middle to wind around a specimen of your favorite stone.
"Leon..." You gasped softly, plucking the ring from the satin it was perched in, and before you had a chance to, he gently took it from your hand and slipped it on to your ring finger. Of course, it was a perfect fit. "It's beautiful... thank you."
Brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, Leon kissed your forehead and smiled, admiring the way the stones glittered in the low light. "You deserve it, sweet girl. You've been such a little angel for me lately."
You were a bit shocked by how good it felt to hear him say that. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how hard you'd been trying lately, and as dark as it might have been, it was absurdly validating to have him acknowledge that.
Entirely of your own volition, you drew him in for a hug, pretending for just one moment that this was all completely normal, that Leon was just your boyfriend who was being sweet by treating you to a private birthday celebration. 
He granted you another kiss before pulling away, gesturing toward the second box on the table. "One more, sweetheart. Go ahead and open it."
Your eyes were mostly drawn to the shimmering ring on your finger as you pulled apart the ribbon and took off the top-- your attention, however, was quickly pulled back in to the contents of the box as soon as the lid was off. Nestled safely in a bed of tissue paper was a collar and leash, baby pink in color and noticeably high quality, possibly even custom made. Dangling from the collar was a heart shaped tag, Princess engraved in the middle. Suddenly your face began to burn and all those sweet feelings from just moments before melted away into that familiar sense of horror you'd gotten so used to.
But you knew he was waiting for an answer. Hesitantly, you looked up at him with a forced smile and said, "It's beautiful, daddy."
Leon pulled you into his lap, peppering your cheek and jaw with a barrage of kisses as he gathered your hair at the base of your neck in preparation to put the collar on you. "I'm glad you like it, pretty baby," He spoke into your ear, nibbling softly at the shell. "Gotta make sure you know you're all mine."
Your breath hitched as you felt the piece clasp into place around your neck, and only seconds later he was clipping the leash to the loop in the front and giving it a quick little tug just to test it out. Whimpering softly, you leaned back into his broad chest and rested your head on his shoulder, trying so hard now to forget about the ring on your finger.
For your birthday, he got you two presents that really only benefitted him by symbolizing your commitment. You were about to find out that he intended to make that three. 
"Now, let's see how well you train on that leash, baby."
He tugged at it again, stepping around you to begin leading you toward the stairs, and it didn't exactly take a stroke of genius to discern where he might be taking you. Your throat tightened and your face burned as you were left with no choice but to fall in line behind him. You wanted to dig your heels into the floor and resist, but you also wanted to bask in how nice he was being to you, relatively speaking anyway.
At least for your birthday, you chose peace.
Leon was impressed with your behavior as he led you into the bedroom. He honestly expected a healthy amount of resistance, and to be met with none felt euphoric. Maybe you really had come around, he thought to himself, and he couldn't help but smirk.
Walking you over to the end of the bed, Leon looped some of the excess leash around his knuckles and caressed your cheek with his other hand, guiding you forward until you were standing in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. He gave you a kiss to the crown of your head before stooping down to whisper in your ear, "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees."
His tone was gentle but his words made you frown to yourself. Still, you obeyed without question, shaking limbs wobbling to steady yourself on the plush bed. You felt especially vulnerable like this, unable to see what he was doing without making a show of craning your neck, without showing your fear. He played with your hair for a moment before tracing his fingers down your spine, cresting at your tailbone where he began to greedily tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head and off the leash before finally discarding it to the floor.
He leaned in over your back to smooth his hand up and down the curves of your waist, dipping forward to cup one of your breasts and tease your pebbled nipple. You could already feel his cock against your lower back, distinctly hardening in his jeans. He gave the leash another gentle pull, as if just to remind you that it was there.
"Look at the birthday girl, behaving so well on her new leash," He mused, pressing a wet kiss to the base of your neck. "So sweet for me, letting daddy play with you and make you feel good, huh?"
You nodded, melting at his touch and praises despite your better judgment. Without having to face him, it was easier than you expected to pretend this was normal. And maybe you did deserve a treat for your birthday, to be made to feel good for no other reason than as a celebration of your life.
Your life. Lately you didn't feel there was much to celebrate, but that was neither here nor there. If you closed your eyes, it was just another day. If you closed your eyes, you were back in your apartment. If you closed your eyes, Leon was only your well-meaning boyfriend who just so happened to be into kinky shit.
Now it was your shorts and panties being yanked down in one swift movement, bunching at your bent knees, but he didn't bother to fully remove them. He didn't need to. His clothed cock rutted impatiently against your exposed sex, sparking up that familiar wet heat of pleasure to begin building between your thighs. Suddenly you were the impatient one.
Lucky enough for you, you didn't even get a chance to complain before he was lowering to his knees at the end of the bed, burying his face between your legs to lap at your slick folds from behind. You let out a quiet whine and attempted to wiggle your hips closer to his affection-- he thought about yanking at your leash to tell you 'no,' but, hey... it was your birthday. So he let it slide.
His skilled tongue lapped at every drop of you, swirling and sucking at your clit and routinely wandering back to trace over your fluttering hole, determined not to let any of your arousal go to waste. Every little gasp and whine that fell from your lips served to spur him on, and now he was tugging at your leash just for fun, amused by the way you would choke a little bit and gasp for breath every time.
"Tastes so fucking good," He groaned into your cunt, the vibrations making you squirm and want for more. "Like candy. My own little puppy girl lollipop."
Eager as he was to fuck you right then and there, he couldn't stop himself from drinking you in like ice water on a hot day. You deserved it, after all, his sweet little puppy princess. So, in spite of himself, he took his time with you.
His free hand ghosted up the inside of your thigh to tease at your dripping hole, watching in awe as his own digit sank into you, and then another. He observed with stars in his eyes as your needy cunt seemed to suck him in deeper, only solidifying to him just how badly you really wanted it. More often than not, you would shy away whenever he initiated, but not today. Not on your birthday.
Leon curled his fingers up in search of that familiar spongy spot that made you cry out and go weak, your knees wobbling on the mattress as you readjusted your arms in an attempt to hold yourself up. It was cute, he thought, just how easy it was to make you fall apart at the seams.
"Daddy," You gasped out, slippery walls clenching tightly around his fingers. "Please, please..."
And again, typically he would make you verbalize what you wanted, if it were any other day. You could have asked him for practically anything right now and he would have given it to you, so he did.
"Alright, alright, sweetheart," He said, withdrawing his fingers from you to rise back up on his feet and discard his own clothing. "Can't keep the birthday girl waiting. That wouldn't be very nice, would it?"
"Mm-mm," You shook your head in agreement, trembling and wiggling your hips without even really realizing it.
He couldn't help but chuckle lowly at this, a smirk tugging at his face as his cock sprung free from his boxers with a quiet, wet slap against his navel. Giving himself a few gentle strokes just to ease the pressure, Leon pulled you up by your leash just a little bit to surprise you and ensure your attention before lining himself up at your entrance, fucking into you with an uncommon gentleness.
Your head was spinning, mouth falling open with a slow, pleasured mewl at the feeling of him splitting you open like that, every inch of him dragging deliciously against your inner workings until the head of him bumped against your cervix, giving you a little jolt. You were already panting for breath, your hair falling in front of your face and you couldn't even care enough to move it as he stilled inside you for a moment, reveling in the warm, tight cavern of you.
Then, with a soft groan, he began to rock into you. The bedroom was blooming with the scent of sex as your arousal only continued to grow, slicking his length with your juices.
"F-Fuck," You whined, head falling forward to rest lazily on the mattress and as a result, your legs spread just a little wider to accommodate the new position, allowing him to drive even deeper into you than you were expecting. Your face went red hot and you barely realized you were drooling a little bit as he gripped you by your hip and drove into you with ardor.
"That's right, pretty baby," Leon cooed, looping your leash around his knuckles a few more times just so he could see the fucked-out look on your face. "Feels so good, doesn't it?"
You nodded dumbly in place of a more proper response, knowing you could get away with it tonight. 
"Mhm, I know it does. Just look at you," He mused.
And in that moment, he decided he really wanted to just look at you. So he yanked at your leash harder than ever before, drawing you upright until your back was flush against his chest, his mouth right in your ear so he could kiss you and taunt you. The pace of his hips picked up speed as he continued to lose himself to the feeling of your plush walls and the sounds of your incoherent whining, your chest heaving for breath as the leash pressed on your throat just enough to make you feel a little tingly and weak.
His warm hand closed around your breast, kneading and playing and tugging at your nipple just to make you squirm. You were such a perfect little plaything.
“So cute… Just so fucking cute,” The words were growled out right into your ear and you clenched around him in response, face burning. “Maybe for my birthday this year, you can really make me a daddy. Give me a little baby just like you to fawn over and spoil.”
And sure, you knew it would be a terrible idea to agree to that, but… you weren’t exactly in the clearest state of mind right now. So you nodded, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder while he drove into you with a measured pace, his hand roaming down to rest on your stomach.
“Yeah? Gonna let me fuck a baby into you, sweet thing? You want daddy’s baby for your birthday?”
It was evident that he’d learned by now you could be especially pliant while otherwise distracted. You were crying out yes and please without even really thinking about it– or whole-heartedly agreeing with it, which he knew, but didn’t really care so long as it benefitted him in the end.
Your climax was fast approaching and he knew it, judging by the way you were pulsing around him and squirming in his tight hold, your breaths short and quick and your skin burning hot. With a knowing grin that you couldn’t see, he lowered his hand once more until the tips of his fingers found your engorged bud like muscle memory, rubbing tight circles with just the right amount of pressure that he knew would be enough to send you over the edge.
“There you go baby, c’mon,” He grunted into your ear, “Let go for me…”
The added stimulation had you twitching and shaking, your eyes screwed shut as you clawed at his arms for any sort of purchase. A string of curses and whines crested from your pouting lips until you began to convulse around him, a rush of arousal spilling out around his cock. The warm, wet feeling of you alone was enough to tip him over into his own end, and you were graced with the distinct feeling of his cock erupting into your waiting womb.
He rutted into you a few more gentle times, pressing a languid kiss to your cheek before dropping the leash, forcing you back down to the mattress by the back of your head. You whimpered and squirmed uncomfortably as you felt the gravity drive his load deeper into you, and it didn’t take a stroke of genius to discern he had done it on purpose.
“Better sit still like that, pup, let nature take its course,” Leon said as though it was obvious, taking a few steps back to admire the image of you. “Did you have a good birthday?”
You felt quite gross, sure, but all things considered… “Yeah, I-I did. Thank you, daddy…”
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4izawas · 15 days
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐋. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him with a raised eyebrow while your lips quirk up into a smile.
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: hazbin hotel | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lucifer morningstar/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 2.57k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, dom reader, dom fem reader, sub lucifer, bottom lucifer, manipulative reader ( i have awoken an obsession in writing them i’m afraid ), reader is longtime friends with alastor, mentions of alastor, reader is ‘the seamstress’ overlord, lucifer crawls across the floor like once? maybe twice, oral ( fem receiving ), begging, brief master kink, whining, some degradation, praise kink, lucifer is 100% being a Good Boy, leg humping, self-inflicted overstimulation, and he WHIMPERS, crying, lucifer’s just a needy lil guy tbh.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: i have fallen into a rabbit hole </3 | 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃!— @mrskreideprinz. @p-ersus. @herohibiscus. @vampcubus.
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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Breathy whines and whimpers echo through the dimly lit room, the flickering flame of candles catching on the deep red wine in the glass you’re holding with your non-dominant hand. The other is currently being lavished with needy, borderline worshipful kisses, your wrist tightly gripped by the man you’d had wrapped around your pinkie finger for the last five or so years. After being abandoned by his beloved wife and his sweet little daughter, he had been a mess — a mess a long-standing overlord like yourself had been quick to clean up and turn into something else, something more. Playing the concerned friend with ‘hidden feelings’ had been more than easy ( whether or not those falsified feelings had festered into something real was for you to know, and for you to know only ), and you’d had him eating out of your hand faster than even you had expected. After only two years he’d removed Lilith’s ring, and a month after that he’d begged for yours, which of course you’d accepted. You’d helped run the kingdom in his name ever since while he lavished you with attention and tended to his silly little hobbies. Your empire had expanded from a simple series of shops in every Ring that clothed the upper class to a behind-the-scenes Queen of the nation; typically you’d have celebrated with your oldest friend, but he’d disappeared after a tie-up with the Media Demon, and you’d not heard from or of him since. Briefly you’d worried he’d succumbed to his injuries, but then waved them away; little could injure Alastor, and no mobilized television screen would be able to kill him. Once he needed your services as his only tailor again he’d return, and you could demand and receive answers from him then. Until that time, your time was split between all of Hell, the whims of Rosie, and of course the dim-witted desperate King you called your own. 
Alastor would be proud, if not envious, of the web you’d weaved across Pride, if you did say so yourself. 
With one leg you push Lucifer away, planting the ball of one of your feet against his bare chest and making him fall back onto his calves, kneeling before you just as he belonged. He whines at the loss of skin contact when you withdraw your foot, but you ignore him, pondering; honestly he’d been far too easy to shape, so much so that it was almost disappointing at first, but his resolve and desperation to please had been more than entertaining. Every moment he kept by your side made your power grow, and considering the abandonment issues that ran rampant like poison beneath his skin, eating away at his brain and filling him with anxiety, that meant you were never alone for more than a few hours. If you weren’t steadily growing stronger, you’d have questioned if the clinginess were at all worth it. 
“Please — Please, let me… Please…” The soft whimpers from the floor in front of you catch your attention instantly, and you gaze down at the mess of a man before you. His hair — typically so well-managed — hangs messily over his eyes, and his wings flare out behind him, the massive feathered limbs twitching every now and then as he holds himself back from touching you without permission; the kissing had been reward enough for the necklace he’d surprised you with at breakfast, even if he wanted more. To get more, he had to earn it. 
“Do you know any words other than ‘please’?” you ask, amused by the sight of the puddle of an angel before you as well as his vastly shrunken vocabulary. He’s on his knees before you, eyes wanting and voice thick as he begs, and it does nothing but feed the raging warmth in your lower abdomen. In control though you may be, the King of Hell would get what he wanted before the night was through; after all, how could you deny someone who was being such a good boy?
“I know whatever words you want me to say,” he promises in a whine, “What do you want me to say? To ask? I’ll do it, I promise.” You know he will; when has he ever not done what you ask? Never. 
“You’ll be good?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you sip your wine, and he whimpers and nods, hands fisting and unfisting around nothing as he continues fighting the urges to grip at you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. You fight off the urge to laugh; he was just so pathetic, you couldn’t help but feel fond of him. There was just something about sorry men on their knees that did it for you every time, and the King of Hell was no exception.
“S-So good,” he moans shakily, his pupils dilating as you crook a finger in his direction as the smallest invitation. He crawls on all fours closer to you before leaning his head against the warm skin of the inside of your thigh, nuzzling against you before hiding his eyes against it. “I will, I — I…” Fuck, he couldn’t even think — exactly how you liked him. His breathing is picking up, getting heavier than before — he’s getting all worked up, and you haven’t even properly touched him yet. 
You cross your legs tightly, displacing him, and a questioning noise falls from his lips. “Mmm… Ask me for permission,” you purr, and you watch his pupils slowly dilate and his eyes fill with a fresh surge of want. 
“F-Fuck, okay — C-Can I? Please, can I?” he asks, a pleading tone in his voice that has you clenching around nothing. 
“Can you what?” you ask, turning to study your fingernails lazily after taking your last drink of wine, putting the glass on the table next to where you were sitting. He lets out a noise of complaint, demanding your attention be put back on him, and you acquiesce easily; you could certainly give in to one or two of his requests, wordless or otherwise, considering he’d be begging to bury himself in your cunt before the night was out. 
He trembles, barely holding himself back from descending upon you like a starved man would a meal. “Can I touch you? I want to taste you, wanna make you feel good, please—“
You narrow your eyes and fight off the smile making the corners of your lips twitch; you can’t smile yet, it would ruin all the fun. “Who are you asking, Lucifer?” 
“Fuck. Fuck. Master, I’m-!” he whimpers, and you raise an eyebrow in silence, watching as he bites down hard on his bottom lip before asking, “Please, Master, can I lick your pussy?”
Your heartbeat quickens. “Hmmm…” you squint slowly at him, as if pondering the thought for the sole sake of teasing him, and he plants a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee before looking up at you, asking silently for the permission he felt he needed. 
“Please?” he begs again, and you smile finally, watching the way his ruby eyes light up with barely-contained excitement. 
“It’s alright with me,” you purr softly, uncrossing and spreading your legs for him. He lunges forward, curling his forearms under the backs of your thighs and burying his face in your cunt immediately. He’s sloppy as he eats you out, drooling from the taste and excitement, and you sigh happily as you relax into the couch cushions. The man was ever-so-talented with his tongue, you’d discovered years ago, and his favorite hobby was to lie between your legs as often and long as you would let him — and oh, would you let him. All he wanted to do was please you, to ensure your comfort and make sure you never wanted to leave him, and a while your pity for him turned into a soft fondness that urged you to acquiesce to some of his more romanticized fancies, which was why the two of you had had a lovely dinner tonight before you’d led him by his red tie to your shared bedroom. 
“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall back at the same time as you close your eyes and bury your free hand in his feather-soft hair, drawing him deeper into your core and coaxing a moan from him at the sensation of his hair being pulled a little. “That’s it, sweet boy — more tongue, just a little more… What a good boy you are…” 
Your hips roll up into his learned tongue at the same time that you catch your own bottom lip between your teeth and grab at one of your breasts lazily, kneading it in time with each swirl of his tongue against you. A shaky string of words into your cunt that you faintly recognize as whiny pleas for you to love him and stay with him forever only stimulate you more, the vibrations making your hips jump up. A small bump against your leg goes ignored the first time, as well as the second, but the third catches your attention and you open your eyes and look down to see him grinding against your leg like a dog. Bullying him crosses your mind, and you are nothing but a slave to your own whims in the bedroom, so you do. 
“What a pathetic fucking man!” you laugh, startling him out of his focus on your cunt and cumming against your leg, and he blinks up at you with wide eyes. He never stops lapping at your cunt, and you scoff meanly. “Humping my leg like some mutt, how unfitting of a king. You’re so desperate to get off that you can’t even wait for the opportunity to use my cunt like a real man — but at least you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?”
Lucifer whines out a moan into you as he nods an affirmative, and you laugh again, this time more breathily. “You like that, don’t you?” you ask mockingly, tugging at his messy hair just enough for it to sting a little. He whimpers into your core, looking up at you through tear-filled eyes. “The mockery, the harsh words, me being mean — and the praise. Can’t make up your mind on what you want more can you?” A shrill whine is your only response as he nips at your swollen clit, and your hips buck up into his face as you moan, “Mmm, you just want to get cunt-drunk, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh!” he agrees, thrusting hard against you and lapping up every drop of slick you had to offer him. He was talented when it came to slipping back and forth between focusing on smothering your clit with attention and dipping his tongue into your wanting hole, and it took all your inner strength not to lose face and wrap your thighs around his head. 
“Please,” he says, voice slurred with desire, “Please, more — Love more, let me have more, I want more-!”
“More?” you ask mockingly, clenching around nothing as his long tongue circles your clit, and he moans into you desperately enough that the vibrations nearly force a whimper of your own from you lips.  “G-Go ahead and ride my leg,” you say shakily, grinning down at him patronizingly as he immediately starts grinding down on you hard. “And cum whenever you want — after all, you’re just my dumb little pussy-whipped pretty boy~”
He lets out a shrill cry, thrusting against your leg hard as he bites and sucks at your cunt and cums all over your calf, moaning and crying with tears running down his face. Shrill cries fall from your lips as you stop bothering to hold them back; he was already getting sloppy in the ways you liked him best, him hearing you call out for him would only further your shared desire. 
“What do we say?” you ask, keening as he sucks at you greedily, and he lets out a stilted cry of his own. 
“Thank you!” he gasps, continuing to roll his cock against you and hiccuping through tears at the overstimulation he’s forcing upon himself as smaller spurts of cum rush from his cock and coat your skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..!”
“Good boy,” you murmur, moving your hand from his hair to gently caress his face, and he lets out a shaky sob as he nuzzles into your hand. You lay your head back, content to doze as he comes down from his own particular high while clinging to you. 
“Love you,” he whispers quietly, and you hum softly back at him in response, wordlessly sharing the feeling. “So much. So, so much, more than anyone…” You let him babble mindlessly, knowing how fond he was of doing so, and listen in silence while watching him with a deep fondness sparkling in your eyes. After about a half hour or so he slows his chatter to a stop, beginning to play with your fingers and nibble at his lips, clearly wanting something. 
“What is it, Lucifer?” you ask lazily, petting his head gently, and he lets out wordless whine that makes you raise an eyebrow. “Well?”
He’s quiet for a moment, for some reason unsure of himself, before he finally voices his desire. “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him smugly while your lips quirk up into a smile. 
“More?” you ask mockingly, then scoff and cross your legs, cutting him off from what he desired most, a surprised unintentional chirp falling from his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know if you deserve it…” And so begin the waterworks.
Lucifer bursts into tears, overstimulated and wanting and needy, all while being denied of the only thing he wants. He was a man lost in a vast desert and you were the small spring he stumbled upon after days — after tasting you the first time all those years ago, once in a night was never enough. You’re just being mean to bully him like you always do now, and he knows it. 
Your cum glistens on his lips and chin, and his tongue darts out to lick it up without thinking, sending a surge of heat rushing through your core. “But — But I was good!” he argues shakily through his tears, “Please, I just want — want to make you feel good, ‘nd I wanna feel good too…”
You gaze down at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it harshly to ground yourself; God, he’s fucking cute. So needy and desperate, his face coated in your cum… 
You smile and spread your legs again, fighting off the urge to laugh at the way his feathers fluff up and he starts trembling in excitement. He’s always been an insatiable little thing, and you should have known better than to start to doze off after he’d achieved just his first orgasm — besides, you can handle him! This was your King after all, and you know him like you know your own mind. What’s a half dozen or more orgasms before the night is out? You could always sleep past noon if you really wanted, and it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving you anytime soon. 
“Then go ahead, Your Majesty,” you purr softly, watching the way his pupils nearly swallow up his irises entirely at the rumble in your voice. “I’m all yours.”
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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uva124 · 2 months
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THE MOMENT WE WERE ALL WAITING FOR, FINALLY FINISHED THE DESIGN OF ASTER YESSSSSS ✨✨✨✨✨✨❤❤
This design belongs to the Wish rewrite called "The kingdom of wishes" (Written by @annymation and soon illustrated by @emillyverse and me)
Sorry for the delay, but this guy had so many things to draw and I also had a thousand ideas that it took me a while to capture them all (4 drawings wow, even I'm surprised lol)
Now after this introduction I will tell you the procedure of its design :]
2D MODEL:
-Maybe some don't notice it, but for the 2D drawing of Aster I didn't add many shadows, because in the classic Disney movies the animation doesn't have many shadows if we look closely, this is for several reasons (at that time they had to inking FRAME BY FRAME, can you imagine how much longer it would have taken to add detailed shadows? I really have respect for the animators)
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(Here are some examples of what I'm trying to explain)
-As I said before, I didn't detach myself much from the concept art of the movie, I just added some other details that occurred to me, Anny and Emy.
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-We decided that his cape would have the constellations of the signs of the zodiac (It was Emy's idea), which in the final result are on the cape, the constellations are noticeable more or less depending on Aster's mood.
-In the Wish rewrite it is mentioned that Aster's hair is like a candle (Reference to Hades) so I decided not to add the lineart in that part
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His hair changes depending on his emotions, but not only that, but also his lineart, the calmer he is, the cleaner his animation will be, however with strong emotions (anger, sadness, nervousness) his details will be more neglected, especially when He is REALLY angry, by the way I made his hair look like a flame to give more drama to his design and also make a reference to Ember from Elemental
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And as a final detail, the star-shaped gem that she has as a brooch changes color, just like her earrings.
3D MODEL:
-When Aster disguises himself as a human, his details on his clothes would disappear and the shape of his accessories would change to ones without a star shape, also the tone of yellow would look duller, you know so as not to draw attention (although he is dressed like a prince with a giant cape, the boy doesn't know how to hide the truth very well lmao)
-In general, it's just that the design becomes simpler, the only thing that changes is her hair that is no longer a flame, her freckles that are no longer little stars, her clothes no longer have so many details and her mark on her eye disappears( ̄▽ ̄) .
By the way, I wanted to thank @the-autistic-idiot for giving us the great idea of ​​Aster having a star-shaped mark on his eye :D.
-Also, I think that those who have seen my other Wish redesigns are wondering why it seems like I had spit a rainbow at Aster's 3D drawings, what happened is that when I was painting my neurons said ✨Change your coloring✨ and well, The drawing in the end came out like this, although I honestly like it better, it better represents how I draw in a traditional way
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Yes, basically the coloring of my drawings is as if a unicorn had spit on them lol
FINAL COMMENTS:
-It was very fun to draw Aster! The boy really has a lot of changes, but thanks to him I already discovered my digital drawing style so I am satisfied.
-Again sorry for the delay, I know that for many Aster must be their favorite character so I hope your wait was worth it :]
See you next time!✨✨
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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blow me like a candle • e. jaeger
Eren was never really a fan of parties or celebrating birthdays at all for that matter but (y/n) knows just the trick to make his special day one worth remembering.
cw: black fem reader, musician eren x influencer reader, oral sex (m/f receiving, he eats ass for like .1 seconds 😭), food play, squirting, toy use, public play, aggressive eren, mentions of car sex, masturbation, choking, overstim, kitchen sex, pet names, cumshot, breeding, (princess, daddy, baby)
wc: 4.1k
📝: y’all know I couldn’t let baby boy’s special day pass without doing something for my fav ship! Hope y’all enjoy. Happy belated to my beloved!
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“And who all did you invite?” “Just a few friends, that’s all.” “Get to naming or I’m not going.”
the expected banter between you and your fiancé had been going on for nearly an hour now. All this amid your preparations and planning for the one day a year that you’d have to all but force him to take it off.
“For real, EJ? It’s your own damn birthday party. How you not gone go?” Smacking your lips in pure frustration at your man. Honestly, you shouldn't be too surprised when dealing with someone so stubborn and ornery. For the three years that you had been together, March thirtieth seemed to be a day of dread rather than enjoyment for the disgruntled musician. Fans had already begun flooding his inbox, comments and mentions with love, adoration and fan edits of the man who brought them a plethora of hits over the years. Some even consider him the sole reason they were even on this planet. Celebrating the life of EJ the Don..you were scrambling all week, planning a party for him in secrecy, hoping to surprise the rapper but with a bit of digging and zero resolve from his assistant, he quickly discovered your plan and voided it immediately. While everyone else was showering him with love and hoping to make his twenty eighth trip around the sun a happy one, Eren was too busy being glued to his next online match and dismissing any and all talk about some extravagant party. Including his own wife to be!
“Because (y/n), it’s pointless. A bunch of people who don’t even fuck with me on a regular day, running in my face and being annoying. Why should I spend my day in a loud restaurant or looking at Jean’s ugly ass mug when I could sit right here, kick my feet up, play some COD…..” His words trailing off while pulling you toward him with a gentle grasp on your wrist. “And eat frosting off your ass. Is that too much for a man to ask?” You’d all but dismissed him, rolling your eyes as he burst into laughter. It was obvious he wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’m serious though, princess. There’s just no use in wasting time or money on something like this. I’m happy right here with you.” At the end of the day, it was his decision. But a last ditch effort at guilt tripping couldn’t hurt! Folding your arms over your chest, (y/n) pushed your lip into a pout, giving him those glaring brown eyes. The ones he could never resist or say no to. Truthfully, you wanted him to have a nice time and gather all of the people who cared about him in one place. For once, let him be the one taken care of..
“I get it, I’m sorry..” “it’s fine, I just rather—“ but before he could finish his sentence, you began in on your little tirade and even threw a few tears in to make it plausible. “I mean, I just wanted you to have a good day, that’s all..I guess it really doesn’t matter.” In the midst of your little tirade, his smile would quickly fade into a look of confusion. Now he felt bad! Here you were planning and expending all of this energy into a gathering, spending your own money and resources to give him an amazing night and he’d rather spend it playing some stupid game. Unbelievable! Refusing to see his baby upset, regardless of his better judgment, Eren released a huff and got up to console you. “Calm down, princess..alright, you win. I’ll go.” Just then, that seemingly somber glare turned to one of pure excitement! “You mean it?! Oh my goodness, I’m so happy!—“ but there was one minor stipulation he wanted to attach to this little acceptance offer. In mere seconds, that deviant grin was back plastered across his handsome face and you couldn’t help but get the sneaking suspicion that something insane was swirling around in that big ass head of his. “One condition.” The only words he uttered to grab your attention. Cradling your waist tightly and running his hand across the lower part of your stomach. “I’ll go to your party, because I know you worked so hard planning it. BUT…there is something you have to do for me..” just then, you’d freeze in his clutch, wondering what exactly this man had in mind. Granted, he would’ve been perfectly content with just you, a blunt and his PlayStation but since you were all but forcing him to participate in this little charade, he might as well be entertained while going and he knew just the trick to doing so! “What is it?…” but alas, you wouldn’t receive your answer right away. Just as you had done for him, you’d let his mind wander and contemplate what could be. Walking off towards the kitchen after parting with a peck to the cheek, Eren just burst into laughter at the thought of his own sinister plot. “ ‘EJ, stop playing. What is it?”
“I’ll tell you just like you told me..it’s a surprise.” And suddenly, you knew the next few days of anticipation of what was up his crafty little sleeve.
it wouldn’t be until the night of his much anticipated soirée that you’d find out just what he was up to! By that time, it was too late and he had surely set you up! Because what other way..what gift would be greater than to force (y/n) into sporting a controlled vibrator for the duration of the event?! Underneath your shimmery designer, thigh length dress and thin pink panties lay a discreetly hidden device..shoved inside of you and controlled by his hands. Even with the promise of wanting to do anything to make his special day the best and just genuinely happy, you couldn’t believe that this was his request! Coupled with the fact that he didn’t want to be around all of these people anyways? You were certainly in for a hell of a night. Forcing him to do social interaction; the one thing he despises most on his birthday…this was karma! So as you sat by his side at Casa Tua..across from a table of his peers as they poured alcohol and sang his praises, he was casually tapping away at his screen, tormenting you with each passing second. That silicone mashed up against your mound and whirled around in your flesh. Tiny shocks of stimulation sporadically hitting your clit. Gifts and wrapped packages surrounded the table, lavender ambience lighting scattered above you and your company as he swirled his thumb pad around and drove up the frequency, making it nearly impossible for you to keep your composure. “..you’re the worst.” “You did say you’d do whatever I wanted.” To which you had no choice but to agree. No matter how flustered you were, clenching your thighs together and chewing at your lip. Everyone around you cackling, bantering among themselves. Meanwhile, you’d keep your hands entangled around his arm, clutching each time he hit another pulse. Trying to shield your face from being spotted. “No need to hide that pretty face..let everybody see how much you’re enjoying this.” Snickering from behind his palm as he gave that small dot another spin and watched you peel over once more; clutching his arm in the process. However, he was unphased and continued sipping at his champagne flute full of Moët. That smirk riddled across his face. He only wanted you to cave so that he could inevitably risk you away but your pride wouldn’t allow it. After having made your little spectacle and pleading the case as to why he needed to be drug out of the house, you were going to pay for this!
“..why don’t you moan a lil’ bit for me, baby? Tell me how good that feels inside of you..” It was at that exact moment, the waiter began dispersing meals around the table and neither of you could focus on the delectable dishes in front of you for the fact that the only thing you wanted was to devour each other! Eren was growing farther aroused and impatient by the second. Wishing he could tear you out of that dress that had your titties looking so juicy stuffed up in it. That made the curvature of your plump ass sit just right and of course, there was that beautiful face…one he wanted to fuck relentlessly until you stained his dick with that sticky gloss. “Or better yet..say the magic words and I’ll make it stop.” All the while taunting you with higher frequencies..whispering in that low deep tone that always drove you mad with lust. Whimpering through muffled lips, (y/n) cradled your face into his shoulder blade and to play it off, he’d coil a hand around your back when the server made his way to your side. “Had a little too much to drink..lightweights.” Chuckling with the man before he walked off. Buying you a bit more time as you rutted your dripping cunt against that toy. Staining the seat of your panties in that slick…a mess he had to see for himself. Luckily for the both of you, everyone was a bit preoccupied with their own side conversations to notice that he was discreetly tugging back your thong and exposing that swollen clit to the cool elements. “…I bet you want to let it out so bad, don’t you? Ride my fingers instead…or better yet…” just then, you’d feel his middle and ring fingers swirling your swollen bud, eliciting a gasp from you. “I can give you this dick. Whatever you want, princess. All you have to do is say it. Don’t be so stubborn..” that smug look had turned into a full blown grin because he was getting an absolute thrill out of all of this. The longer you waited, the further you prolonged your own orgasm. There was no point in pretending you could handle it. “ ‘Ren..” “Say it.” So reluctantly but eventually…you’d cave! In a shrill moan, still cradling his forearm through his white button down, you’d utter the one phrase he was looking for:
“…take me home.”
.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:.・*:。.・*:。.・*
thirty minutes later
after having abandoned the restaurant and all of your unsuspecting friends, the two of you jetted out of the eatery; his arm cradling you as he carried you from the establishment. From there, his plan was in motion. Funny enough, the two of you had devised your escape plan in the event that you couldn’t hold out; under the guise that you had fallen ill after one too many glasses of liquor. Putting on one hell of an act, so much so, an Oscar should’ve been seated next to his five Grammys. Either way, it worked and once valet wrangled his red McLaren to the forefront of the building, you were out of there! The brief drive home was equally as thrilling as the rush you got from potentially being caught. Whilst he maneuvered the wheel, trying to get you guys home quickly, you’d indulge him from the passenger’s seat; legs parted to either side, facing him whilst playing with that pretty pussy. Gently rubbing on yourself to release that tension building in your body. In the confines of this car, you were free to scream as loudly as possible, say whatever you please. Pumping those digits in and out, creaming all over them as you moaned for the man responsible. Even squirting and drenching his leather interior, which brought a big smile to his face. “You’re so fucking sexy, oh my god…”
so it came as no surprise when you got through the front door of your home, things only escalated…whisking you around whilst making out. Pinning you against the wall with his knee parting your thighs. Eren slid those nimble digits between your folds… whimpering and grunting against your lips. Tugging your top down and sucking on your nipples. Ravaging every inch of your body he could get his hands on..those tattooed fingers pinching, pulling and spanking you as he saw fit. Who needed two hundred dollar dinners when he could devour you as he saw fit? Naturally, it was only fitting that he take you to the kitchen, set you atop the counter and really start the party..no pun intended!
“Open those fucking legs, hurry up.” From the switch of tone in his voice, you knew for certain he was done playing these games. All night, he had been watching you strut in that tight little two piece..teasing him and practically begging for him to get that pussy. How envious he was of that Lush Vibrator being buried deep in your greedy little cunt. He could’ve had it all a lot sooner had you just let him stay home, now..it was time to put his claim on it. Not wasting another second of his precious time, (y/n) parted those thighs as far as you could spread them and held them in place with your palms. Gripping the thick of that ass and staying steady for him. It was a beautiful sight.. “..Eren, baby. I need it so bad. I need that dick..” desperately declaring as you watched him strip himself of his own clothing. “I know, baby. I got you..” Your panties tugged to the side by a finger hooked around the material and heels dangling in the air. Trust, he wanted to fulfill your desire for the both of you but there was one thing he needed before doing so. See, he had plans all night of how he wanted to go about this…the fantasy plaguing his perverted mind for days. With his shirt finally unfastened, he’d toss it to the floor, starting on his belt next as he beelined for the fridge. You already looked absolutely delectable and divine, but this would just set it over the top. When he retrieved his sought after item, you’d smirk and begin laughing when you saw what he had. “First though, let me have a lil’ taste of you.” Brandishing in his hand a canister of whipped frosting, Eren removed the top and tilted it downward, leaving a few little dots on your neck, nipples..along with a trail going down your exposed stomach. Even leaving a few on your asscheeks. Pink confectionery laden across your beautiful dark skin..it was the sweetest treat he could ask for. Bending down, he’d grasp your chin lightly and shove his tongue into your mouth, flinging it around as you engaged in sloppy kisses. It was almost criminal how badly he wanted you..cupping your breasts in your palms, you’d watch him closely as he lowered his head to begin lapping up those tiny piles of frosting. Slowly, he’d twirl his tongue around your perky mocha nipples; softly suckling them off. (Y/N) trailed those freshly done nails through his hair. Those narrowing eyes glaring at him as he glided down your body.
“Mmphm!” Sharply exhaling in reaction to his careful movements. He could tell that you were thoroughly enjoying this little display of foreplay. “I’ve been waiting all night for this..” Slowly but surely swiping up the sugary trail, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you. It wasn’t until he reached your mound did he pick up that can once more and dot your clit with the same substance. “Let me see your hands, baby?” Cooing to you in that sweet tone as he intertwined your fingers and shifted his focus to your slit, slurping on those delightful juices; stirred up by all the teasing. The mixture of your natural taste and that subtle sweetness of that frosting intermeshed for a delicious flavor. He was in absolute bliss at the moment, enjoying every bit of that body that he had been denied all evening. Because of that, he was going to ensure that he ate your pussy until his jaws locked up. For his own pleasure and you could come, cry and whatever else you felt necessary but this was his right now. “Hnghhh!! ‘Ren…oh shit. Right there..eat this pussy..” He’d continue on, spitting down into those folds and your entrance, being stretched open by his two free fingers. Whilst the two of you held hands, he’d greedily feast, making loud moaning noises and vibrating against your plump lips. Soon, he’d turn his attention to your decorated backside and licked it clean; gently flicking his tongue across your asshole momentarily. By this time, your nectar was trickling down his chin and even to his throat; that bobbing Adam’s apple jumping as he drank in your divine mixture. Eren was so enamored that he didn’t want to come up for air even..only to praise you for doing so good for him. “Keep putting in my face, princess..mmm, fuck..” meanwhile, you had no idea just how hard you had gotten him through the concealment of those pants. Hearing the sounds of your smacking wetness and little voice calling out for him. He’d proceed to tongue fuck and give you insurmountable pleasure, so much so that you reached another orgasm, but it was right before you could make it to a third did he cease and come up for air. His mouth and cheeks eventually stained in that syrupy sex. “C’mere..” demanding in a breathy wind as he clutched your throat and meshed your mouths together.
with the opposite set of digits, he’d undo the button of his black pants and tug his boxers down his waistline. That thick cock; swollen and throbbing with desire for you. “I want you so bad…want you so fucking bad..” by this time, becoming quite needy as he gripped his shaft and drug it across that aching cunt. Glaring with watchful eyes, (y/n) nibbled at your bottom lip in anticipation and Eren had no plans to keep you waiting for long! “..Take it…” “..give me that pussy. Open it up f’r me..” using your fingers to part that pretty slit open and seconds later, his tip made home inside of you.. “f-fuck!” Normally, he’d be gentle and all for going slow..taking his time but after being edged along for teased, he was about to tear your shit up! The initial sensation catching him up a bit until he gained a rhythm and the two of you finally found yourselves in sync. That leg draped over his shoulder and shook as he began to thrust. In and out..feeding you a couple deep ones, only to draw out some of that silky cream. Pumping until he was able to fit half way. “..you gonna let me have this pussy, baby? You can take more, I know you can. ‘S so tight..” baiting you along with that sweet charm, all while choking you out for added stimulation. He didn’t let you take your eyes off of him for one second, wanting to see each of those beautiful reactions. Even when you began to shed a small tear and whimper. “You can take this dick f’r me, can’t you? Let me put that shit in your stomach? That’s the only gift I want..” “..mmmm..yeah. I can take it, daddy. Give it to me!” Begging him to increase his speed and beat your shit sore if that’s what he desired. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long before he hit his stride. You’d find yourself clutching the sides of that countertop, bracing yourself for that brutal pounding. The sounds of your rough love making ringing throughout the room, all that passion and affection coursing between your sweat riddled bodies. “Right there, right there! Please don’t stop, ‘Ren! I’m gonna come.” That much apparent by the tight clutch of your cunt around his shaft. That milky white sheath coating him…but he knew what was coming next and he couldn’t wait to feel it. So much so, he’d massage your clit and bait you on.
“Squirt on this dick then..come all over it..” Coaxing out that sticky rain as he swiped his fingers across your bud and let it spray his lower abdomen. Your body shook violently in reaction to that pent up orgasm. The third one you’d experienced tonight and you weren’t sure how many more you could handle. However, your husband-to-be was going to put it to the test! “Thaaat’s my girl. But you’re not done..I know you got more.” Gritting his teeth and grunting in your ear. Giving you only seconds to adjust before folding you yet again and doubling down, folding you into a bit of a mating press to really pound your pussy. “AHH! Fuck, fuck…” making you yelp in an excessively high pitched voice as your skin smacked and collided in a fury. His entire pelvis soaked in slick as he slammed those full balls against your backside. The two of you were making a beautiful, aggressive, mess…letting him have all of you was more than he could ask for on a day like this! Soon though, you wouldn’t be the only one reaching climatic bliss as you felt him swelling up inside of that tight womb. “Imma—imma nut in that fucking pussy!” “Come in me, ‘Ren! Nut in this pussy, daddy!” Emptying his sack shortly thereafter and letting the remnants spill into you. Both of you releasing ear shattering cries simultaneously.. “..oh my God..” “..oh shit.”
even so, that still wasn’t all he had in the tank! Once he pulled out, letting the pulsating shaft hit the cool air; withdrawing from your sore warmth to give it a break. “..yeah, I need that throat now. Clean me off, baby.” And you were thrilled to oblige! Helping you to the floor, placing you on your knees, Eren positioned himself in front of you and kept that hair reigned back as he let you work your magic. “..you’re so fucking pretty..gone let me fuck this face..” just in pure awe of how gorgeous you looked, despite being put through the wringer by him. With tear stained eyes and running makeup, you’d laugh and ask that he pass you the frosting. Now it was his turn to be devoured and sucked up. The best finish to an already wonderful night. You were so thankful that he whisked you away from that party now! Tilting that canister up, you’d spray a single line across his aching cock and quickly slide your tongue across it shortly thereafter. “Mmmmm..yeah..see how good you taste?” Nodding your head as you began bobbing it back and forth. Cleaning up your mixture of cum and the pink cream splattered all over his lower half. You didn’t even need hands..taking him to the hilt in the back of your throat only moments after beginning. Eventually, you’d start implementing twisting palms and drawing out not only more of his moans but the remainder of that nut as well. “Are you going to come for me?..come all in this mouth?” Fluttering those adorable eyes that made him weaker than he already was. (Y/N) would open your mouth wider, preparing yourself to be drenched in that warm seed. You knew he couldn’t withstand it much longer. That thumping was growing by the millisecond and as you’d twist him around in your palms..”OHHH! FUCK…”
you’d find yourself absolutely saturated in that hot white semen. Covering your face, mouth and titties..to which you’d proudly parade with a wide smile on your face. Wiping it clear from your eyes with his thumb, Eren would lean down and give you the biggest kiss he had mustered all night. He couldn’t believe the aftermath of what you two had created. But you both could do nothing but burst into laughter..
“Damn..kinda went overboard, huh?”
“You think so?” regardless, his happiness was your main concern and giving him the best present a man could ask for. He couldn’t imagine celebrating any other way!..grasping your chin once more, he couldn’t help but to keep showering you with pecks, even after swallowing his cum.
“Hey..happy birthday, baby..” Knowing that dinners, expensive gifts..whatever, nothing else could top this.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 6: Cockbulge
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Pairings: Inui x reader
Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Inui, sorcerer!Inui, size difference, teratophilia, overstimulation, mind-breaking, dacryphilia, blood from neck biting briefly
Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot
Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡
Author's Note: This ended up being very different from my original concept (and also way longer than intended) but I hope you enjoy what it turned out to be! :D
Keep an eye out for this AU in a future kinktober installment 🤫
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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Inui was well aware of the dangers that this particular ritual held. Sure, any summoning ritual could go awry and become trouble quickly, but this spell was especially fickle. One tiny mistake or missed detail and he could summon something unwanted, possibly some eldritch creature that would destroy every known universe, but to him, the risks were worth it
He had spent so much time meticulously studying the circle that he'd need to draw, which materials you needed to place around said circle, offerings you were supposed to make, and even studying another language to learn how to pronounce the incantation correctly. Everything should be fine, it would all go perfectly and he would get what he wanted with no problems...
...He said to himself, sweating profusely as his arms carrying the backpack full of spellcasting materials trembled... Nevertheless, he marched onwards, deeper into the dark forest where you were supposed to carry out the ritual
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Inui found the spot that he needed, a small clearing in the woods where the grass was noticeably softer and the breeze seemed calmer, where the only red flowers grew within the entire forest. This was where he began prepping for the ritual, casting the intricate circle with dried herbs, flowers, and crystals. Fixing several candles around the pattern and lighting them before stepping away to pull out his book of incantations, reading over the lines and practicing in his head. He waited about an hour, just as the instructions mentioned, before standing up and facing the circle. Taking a deep breath, he began the chant, repeating it three times as he walked around the summoning circle
He then put his book away and returned to the circle, stripping off his robes before laying down in the center, announcing his offering to the demon, “In return for your arrival and services, I have brought an offering of... myself. My flesh, my mind, and my soul are yours to do with as you please. Now, come forth!”
Tonight, Inui was uncharacteristically impatient. Normally he had no problems waiting for summoned creatures to appear, or waiting for spells to take effect. Tonight's spell, however, was very special. The being that he was desperately attempting to summon was a demon of lust, not an incubus or succubus, mind you. This was supposed to be leagues above those kinds of demons. And He was rumored to only appear before men that He found exceptionally attractive, which is what made this ritual difficult to find. Most of the sorcerers that committed to this summoning had no results, the demon refusing to come forth for anyone within the last 300 years, give or take...
Many people regarded this spell as nothing more than a hoax, claiming that it had probably become lost in translation somewhere and that was the reason it never worked. Some of the world's most handsome and skilled sorcerers attempted the summoning with no luck, so the magical realms deemed the spell to be fraudulent, because who wouldn't find these men attractive? That's what they all said, anyways. But Inui was tempted by the promises that this spell makes. Promises of "pleasure unlike anything this Earth could ever provide." And, "A love that no other could provide." These were loose translations of course, but Inui was tempted nonetheless. Hoping that if he was the one to finally summon the demon after all of these years, the other sorcerers would have to acknowledge his work, no longer able to poke fun at him or disregard his magic
He had other motivations for this summoning as well. The prospect of demon sex was very tempting...and since it was this demon's specialty, why not dedicate an entire year to studying the ancient books to bring this fantasy to life?
-
Inui's mind wandered as he awaited the creature's arrival. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze glide through his hair and brush against his bare skin, his mind conjuring up scenes of what he imagined the demon would do to him. If it has claws, would it use those to scratch his delicate skin, drawing blood and licking it up with it's long tongue? If it has sharp teeth, surely it would sink them into Inui's tender flesh, marking him as it's human toy. And what about it's size, surely the demon would want to shove it's monster cock deep inside of him?
Inui began to squirm, his skin felt impossibly hot, as if he was on fire. His back arched as a single moan slipped out of him, rubbing his thighs together as his cock began hardening from the lewd thoughts. Suddenly, his hips burned, not in a painful way though, in a way that caused him to moan out once again
“My, aren't you an adorable little thing~ ” A low voice purred into Inui's ear, impossibly hot breath hitting his neck as a shiver crawled up his spine. His eyes snapped open to find a large creature hovering over his body, it's hands firmly gripping his hips and haunting yellow eyes boring into his, visibly glowing in the darkness of the forest
Inui wanted to say something, but the words died in the back of his throat, only able to gasp and pant as the demon loomed over his comparably small frame. “What's wrong, little one? Too stunned to speak?” A small noise escaped from Inui involuntarily, unable to process that this was actually happening. “Oh, darling, I hope you're not afraid of me now?”
Inui shook his head, not wanting the demon to leave him. “Good, good. ” It chuckled, brushing it's slender fingers against his cheek, trailing it's touch down the human's neck, smiling when Inui arched his back again, squeaking out some cute response and tilting his head up to expose his neck further
-
You slowly licked your lips, leaning down and grazing your sharp fangs against Inui's sensitive flesh, causing him to flinch and gasp. Gently kissing his neck, your hands traveling to his stomach and trailing your fingers downwards, stopping at the base of his dick. Inui whined in response, raising his hips up a bit to chase the addictive touch. Desperately wishing you would wrap those hands around his cock and–
“Already excited, are we?” Purring, you tapped his fully erect cock, eliciting a tiny noise from Inui. “Such a horny little thing, I haven't even touched it yet. Are you desperate for this kind of attention, sweet thing? Is that why you summoned me? ” You teased, baring your fangs and growling, just as hungry with lust as the sorcerer was. Depraved from worthy offerings for centuries now
“Take m-me...please...” Inui whispered. Spreading his thighs for you. You cocked an eyebrow at the request, the sorcerer's tone was meek, but you could sense the sincerity behind his words. Humming, you brushed a hand through Inui's hair, and he leaned into the touch, looking up at you through pretty blond lashes
“This is what you want, human? Once we start, I will not stop until you are marked with my seal. Are you certain that you can handle this? ”
Inui swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before his answer, “Yes. I want this, I want y-you...all of you. ” This greatly pleased you, a toothy smile spreading across your face as your slender tail swished from behind
“Very good~ Then let us begin, cutie~ ” You positioned yourself so that your face was hovering over Inui's cock, using your long, forked tongue to wet the member while your hands held the human's thighs apart. Inui moaned loudly when you swallowed his entire length at once, your mouth now flush with his pelvis. He instinctually grabbed your hair, tightening his fist as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on the tip harshly. Teeth grazing against the bottom of his cock and causing Inui to keen, throwing his head back against the ground and letting out a high-pitched moan
Precum hit the back of your throat, coating your tongue and drawing out a moan when you tasted the familiar salty flavour. You couldn't help but moan around Inui's thick cock, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch inside of your mouth. Which only egged you on more, now bobbing your head faster, wrapping your long tongue around his shaft. Inui was losing his mind, vision blurry as it felt like he was getting a handjob and a blowjob at the same time
He cried out your name, his back arching impossibly high off of the ground, “G-gonna– Aaahhh—!!! ” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the sorcerer's load poured down your throat, greedily swallowing every last drop. You slowly let his cock slide out of your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop sound, tongue lolling out and a bit of cum sticking to it
Already spent, Inui panted heavily. But you were far from finished with this new toy, licking your lips and immediately sticking your tongue into the human's hole, eliciting a scream from him. “Oh– Oooohh fffuuuck~ ”
You continued to lick and slurp Inui's ass, working your tongue deeper inside of him and shoving it against his prostate, making him shout out broken moans. Sobbing as his ass was stretched just from that thick tongue
Retracting your tongue, you quickly replaced the wet muscle with two fingers, pumping them in and out of Inui's wet hole. His head felt fuzzy again as his ass was stretched further, it already felt as if he was at his limit, his arm draped over his eyes and chest heaving. You wrapped your other hand around Inui's dick, giving it a few pumps before rubbing over his slit with your thumb. The poor human hissed, biting his lip and clawing at your arms, his dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm
This did not deter you, however. If anything it only made you move faster and push your fingers in deeper, once again hitting Inui's prostate and leaving your fingers pressed against it. Ripping yet another orgasm out of him as your hand milked more cum from his cock, the thick fluid leaking all down your fingers
Inui slumped against the ground, almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. With his strength rapidly leaving him, his hands fell onto the ground, releasing their grip on your large arms. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of Inui's chest, cooing sweet praises into your human's ear. “You're doing so well, sweetie. Releasing all of this lovely fluid just for me~” Inui could feel the rumbling in your chest as you spoke, voice low and gravelly. “But we're just getting started~ ”
Inui's eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that this would require way more stamina than usual, human sex. What he did not expect was how every single touch from your clawed, calloused hands seemed to drain that stamina immediately and light every last nerve on fire at the same time. It was as if your touch injected him with lust, keeping him constantly horny enough to keep going even if he could no longer hold himself up
The familiar sound of clothing hitting the ground brought his attention back to you, having just removed your trousers. Which allowed your cock to spring free of it's constraints. Inui's mind appeared to go blank at the sight, drool falling from the corners of his mouth as he stared at your fully erect length. Most humans would say something along the lines of, “No way in hell is that thing going to fit!” But Inui Seishu was not most humans. Inui was, to put it crudely, a cockslut and a size king. Always craving the things that would stretch him open enough to shut off his mind, only able to moan and take inch after inch deeper into his body
These thoughts were not unknown to you, as every last kink and preference became known as soon as they laid down in the enchanted circle. Which is exactly why you chose him. Inui would be capable of taking everything that you could give him; he craved an experience such as this one, and you were more than happy to give it to him
As if your body had its own gravitational force, Inui inches closer towards it, beckoning you to slide into his tight hole. So you grabbed his waist, impossibly tiny within your grasp, and lined your demonic dick up with his ass. He gulped, glassy eyes trained on your cock as the tip disappeared inside of him, the stretch already burning in the most delicious way
“Shh, breathe for me, lovely. There's still so much more that needs to go in.” Those soothing words echoed in Inui's mind as another inch slid past that ring of muscles. His eyes rolling into the back of his head and mouth falling open in a silent moan. You soothed the human as best as you could, sliding in further and further until your dick had disappeared entirely. “Ooohh fuuucckk yeeesss~ ” You hissed, panting as his tight walls convulsed around your cock, his hips jerking upwards as cum painted his chest white
A devilish grin spread across your face, slowly thrusting into Inui's twitching body. He came just from feeling you bottom out inside of him. Such a good little pet for you.
A familiar tightening in your core caused you to speed up, chasing your first release of the night while your human was already on his third. Yet, you could sense the passion inside of him, he craved more. And more is exactly what you would give him. Slamming your hips against his roughly, you growled praises against Inui's neck, nipping him with your fangs and flooding his insides with searing hot cum
Still partially recovering from his earlier orgasm, Inui arched his back high off of the ground, wailing as you fucked him and filled him. His body going completely limp in your hands, breathing erratically and making the cutest fucked out noises
You took a second to catch your breath and revel in the sight before you. There was a large bulge in Inui's stomach where he was stretched around your cock, his insides pushed aside to make room for the impossibly large intrusion. His blond hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his skin from the intensity of it all. Your hand brushed some of the wet hair away, nails scratching against his scalp and pulling a soft whine from him
You couldn't stop the smile growing on your features, it'd been far too long since you had felt this way towards a human. Especially one that intentionally offered himself unto you like this one did. Hungry lips met Inui's soft ones, moving together harmoniously as your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this moment before you gave him another orgasm
Inui moaned into the kiss when he felt your fingers brush against his nipples, playing with them so you could hear more pretty noises from your sweet human, humping into his wet hole as you did so. Inui gasped as your hips snapped into him harshly, pinching his nipples simultaneously. Your thrusts began to speed up again, causing him to throw his head back in total bliss, fucking him at just the right pace
The temptation to mark your cute pet up was far too strong, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his sensitive neck. Nibbling on the soft flesh as you fucked your previous load deep into his gut, thrusting faster and faster so that you could add more cum to the mess already within his walls, making the bulge in his stomach even larger. Inui whined loudly, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging at the roots, begging for you to cum in him again, “Please– Ah!! More...cum in me more... Fill me with your cock until I can't think of anything else– F-fuuck—!! ”
Cum flooded his insides once again, dick twitching as his gummy walls squeezed it all out of you, your hips surely hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise later on. Blood trickled down Inui's neck as your fangs pierced his delicate skin. Tears ran down his cheeks from the combined intensity of everything
Inui's dick became hard yet again, still glistening from his previous orgasms. “Sweet thing, will you cum with me this time? ” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his length. Slowly pumping it as you peered into his gorgeous green eyes. “Just give me one more, then you can rest. Can you do that, darling? ” Inui nodded languidly, his hips rolling into your fist on their own
You smiled at him in response, taking a deep breath before thrusting into him again. The reaction from him was immediate; his hips jerked forward, head turning to the side as a loud moan erupted from him, hands grasping at your wrist that was gliding up and down his member. But you continued on, cock reaching the deepest places inside of him, rearranging his guts completely as his body molded to your length
Inui clenched around your dick, his fourth climax just within reach, crying out your name while your thrusting became sloppy. One hand continued to jerk him off, twisting your wrist as you stroked upwards and eliciting high-pitched screams from him, while your other hand rubbed at the bulge in his stomach. Effectively jerking yourself off through his body, almost using him as a fleshlight
The way his mind just shut off was instantly noticeable. Inui's eyes became vacant, unable to look away from your lustful gaze. Little “Ah! Ah! Ah! ” noises escaping him with each rhythmic thrust, no longer capable of forming words as he becomes your dumb little doll. Arms and legs completely limp, the only thing really moving is his hips as they thrust into your hand, chasing yet another orgasm even though his mind is unresponsive to the overstimulation
“I really did fuck you stupid, didn't I, little one?” No response, unless you count the slightest change in the pitch of the human's moans as anything. “So good for me. Mm, cum with me now, let us complete this pact~ ”
With that, you fucked into Inui roughly, snapping your hips into his and vigorously pumping his cock. Biting your bottom lip as you grow closer to your release and finally cumming within Inui's tight ass as he squeezes you once more, his own release following only a second behind yours. His body twitched and writhed under your grasp as a glowing red seal was burned onto his stomach, the large mark spanning from just above his bellybutton to right above the base of his dick. The same mark as your summoning circle, a mark of ownership. Telling all manner of demons and other creatures that this one belongs to you
Caressing the newly etched seal, a wave of possessiveness washed over your features for a moment. Your darling human was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taking over after so much excitement. His soft features became illuminated by the moonlight and you couldn't help but smile fondly
You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, so as not to hurt him or rouse him from slumber. Soothing your hands over his body and kissing his pale cheek before lying down next to his side. You pulled him against your chest and spooned his small body, wrapping your tail around his leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you whispered a few more praises and loving words into Inui's ear before drifting off with him
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
Tagging: @anxious-chick @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki
459 notes · View notes
fariest · 18 days
Text
till forever falls apart 𑁍ࠬܓ jake sim
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pairing: widower!jake x fem!reader
genre: LOTS of angst like a lot, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort/no comfort, some fluff here and there, coming of age, bittersweet ending.
word count: 8k words (or more..)
synopsis: jake came unto your life when you needed it the most. you didn’t expect it but he did and it all did happen on that one specific bench behind the beach you both grew up on, that one summer night. jake just had no idea you would slip through his fingers the way you did. and not that fast either.
warnings: character death, grief & loss, jake is a widower and has a daughter, unknown illness, mature language & cursing, low self worth, depression, mental break downs, fighting, marriage, mentions of seizures, hospitality, medication, just a lot of sad shit i’m so sorry in advanced.
a/n: here it is. mind you i wrote this with a heavy heart and a lot of thoughts in mind ( ; ω ; ) but either way i hope you all like this as much as i liked writing it. this is not proofread by the way, i apologize.
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Jake’s feet were practically dragging. Everyone would probably have noticed that but in that moment, his biggest wish would probably be to erase everyone’s existence. He’s been living in his own shadow for felt like years. The only one he’s been vividly making eye contact with was his daughter and the florist he’s been going to for the past few months. Yet it felt for much longer. After all he was counting the days. With a heavy heart that was once filled to the brim with happiness and all the things he’s ever wanted.
The florist, a lady in her late fifties, always welcomed Jake with open arms and it was gestures like that, that made him feel smaller than ever. He wanted to return it, he really did but all he could do, was request the bouquet of flower he was in search for, with an even heavier heart. And if the words weren’t enough, he would point to that one specific section where they were kept. It usually didn’t take long since he memorized it.
Your favorite ones.
Peonies.
His mom called him before he left to buy those flowers. He was surprised with how different she sounded compared to him, or maybe it was because he was starting to forget how everyone sounded, especially those the closest to him. After all he was completely wrapped up in his own arms that felt far too empty and cold to the touch that he couldn’t help but let it happen. With his phone pressed to his ear, he let his mom do the talking while he was busy staring at nothing. More like the place where you used to sleep beside him and him basking in the comfort of your soft snores. You felt so close, so warm. You provided the warm that was missing and now he had to bask unto nothing but coldness. A lit up candle couldn’t even mend the wounds together. He had no idea how long he stayed on the phone with his mom for but at some point he could hear her sniffle and being in the state he was, he couldn’t ask her what was wrong. He was barely doing better himself.
And the call ended with him saying nothing and her saying it wasn’t his fault. The exact same thing she said the last time he saw her those many months ago.
He was debating whether to go check in on his daughter, knowing she would question the state he was. It wad the witty and her ability to be attentive and Jake knew she got that from you. He saw you right through her.
These were one of the days where he was far too deep unto the dark corners of his mindset where he didn’t bother with himself and how hard he was on himself. Jake almost breathed a sigh in relief when he saw his daughter still passed out in her bed, white sheets pulled up to her chin and tightly wrapped around her, the cloud lamp that you gifted to her on her fourth birthday, perfectly dimmed and casting a mellow glow over the roundness of her cheeks. Down on the floor, was Layla sleeping, with her resting on her front paws. The dog he got when he was ten, the one you raised with him.
This was one of the moments where Jake allowed himself to smile, a small smile without feeling bad for doing so.
Jake shook his head when he heard a voice briefly pull him out of his thoughts. His visions cleared and he saw the florist give him a sympathetic smile, probably sensing something, the grey hair framing her face in a way that matched her soft yet gentle features.
“Are you okay, young man?”
Jake was a bit taken aback but settled for a nod before eyeing the bouquet that the lady has managed to wrap up with obvious care.
It was like she saw right through him.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone.” She sadly smiled.
“These flowers,” She gestured to the Peonies, “They are for someone.. someone special, aren’t they?”
Gulping, Jake averted his eyes but still nodded.
“She was my everything,” He slowly forced out and he saw the lady perk up, “My childhood sweetheart, my best friend, my wife. And the mother to our daughter.”
“She was also basically everything I wasn’t yet she still made sure to remind me that she would love me no matter what. Her grip on my hand was tight until it wasn’t but even so, I knew she wouldn’t let go no matter what,” Jake swallowed back his urge to cry, but talking about her tugged at the strings holding him together. And he felt like the lady sensed that before she settled a old wrinkly hand on his shoulder.
The tears were already rolling down by then. Tears he’s been holding in all those months ever since.
“She sounded lovely,” Patting his shoulder, she continued, “I know she would’ve been proud of you especially for still being here, somewhere on the ground where she can look at you from afar,”
“I miss her, ma’am.” Looking up with bloodshot eyes, the lady offered another sympathetic smile, before handling him a tissue.
“I know, child.” She nodded, “I’m not saying you will overcome this grief soon or frankly ever. But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. When you think about her, please do not always think about the negatives that comes along with it, think about the fact that out of everyone, you were the one she chose. Think about how she chose to love you even with all your flaws and how none of those things would ever change the way she saw you.”
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Jake remembered the day. Clear and bright under the moonlight. He was eleven, fairly tall for his height with black strands that always fell over his eyes with how the wind always loved to mess with it. Everyone said that he had that soft look yet gentle demeanor look from his mom, he’s heard it so much to the point where he started believing them. After all his mom was a phenomenal woman.
Ever since dad walked out on both of them, mom has tried her hardest to raise him by herself despite her being young still. She was still in her youth and it was a sad sight to not see her do all the things people her age did. Travel the world, figure out themselves and planning their future without anyone standing in their way of doing so. Jake’s biggest fear was being in her way specifically, being a burden but the warmth from her embrace managed to tell him everything he needed to know. And so he tried his best to help her despite not knowing half of the things he did but he didn’t want his mom to cry anymore. He didn’t want her to downgrade herself and blame herself for things that were out of her control. He wanted her to go to bed with a gentle mindset and now all of the things that used to eat her up.
His mom went to sleep early that night and Jake promised himself that he would prep himself his own dinner and cut up some fruit for his mom since he knew she loved those, and then take out the trash.
Opening the gates, he dragged the plastic bag behind him before dumping it in the big green trash container. The summer nights were getting warmer and times like this reminded Jake off how much he loved it. Giving a toothy grin, he whipped his two hands on the front of his shorts before turning back to head inside, but not before casting a look over his shoulder.
There he saw someone. A few feet away from him.
At first, Jake had no idea what they were doing before walking closer. They were just. Sitting on the bench, in front of the beach. How odd.
“If you’re gonna stare, can you at least be less.. obvious with it?” The person asked, almost nonchalantly.
It was a girl.
Jake didn’t respond, fear of embarrassing himself further so he settled for walking closer to her before taking a seat beside her. So this was what she was doing, just looking at the waves. This late at night?
The young boy scratched behind his head with a small chuckle, “Sorry.. I didn’t think you would notice me,”
She casted him a side eye look before rolling her eyes.
“You’re not exactly quiet.”
And then she turned to stare back at the beach’s many waves. The stars glimmering in reflection with the water. It was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that.
He never bothered looking at where she was looking. But instead he decided to take her in. She was dressed in a white nightgown with a scruff at the end and at the ends of the sleeves, her hair wasn’t tied up or anything but fell behind her shoulders due to the wind, pointy nose, eyelashes casting a dim shadow on her the top of her cheeks which were a bit flushed due to the not too chilly breeze.
Jake might’ve been young but he wasn’t young enough to not know was beauty was when he saw it. And this might have been the prettiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. She might’ve been as beautiful as his mom.
“You really have a staring problem,” She told him, amusement evident in her voice.
“What!” Jake shook his head before scooting away from her, “What is that even supposed to mean!”
“Hmmm…” The still unknown girl tapped her chin lightly.
“It means you stare too much. My mom says that stuff will have you go blind.”
So this was how she wanted to play.
“Well, she’s wrong!”
He knew he hit a sensitive spot when the girl before him gaped lightly at what he said before huffing. He felt the panic dwell in and he was about to apologize before he heard her burst unto a fit of laughter.
“You should have seen the look on your face!”
Jake knew that day, that her laughter, that sound was his favorite melody of all time.
If anyone asked what you thought of Jake, the first thing that immediately came to your mind was — an oddball.
It didn’t add more to it when you both lived in the same neighborhood. Only two houses away from each other. To add more to it, your mom and his mom knew each other since they used to go to the same highschool together. They both suffered from the loss of their husbands, with yours dying before you were even born, which meant you had no idea who he was. So you lived off your mom’s words about him, the picture frames around the house and the photobooks your mom kept in a small box in the basement.
It was like your moms’ relationship drew you closer to Jake and now that you took a closer look at him, he wasn’t so bad and he wasn’t as irritating as the other boys in your class. The ones who said girls had cooties and girl disease. In fact, you took a hold of how Jake wanted or more so, looked forward to spending time with you any chance he got. He also came by a lot especially after school asking for you. You were pretty sure your mom held some kind of favoritism towards him because she never wasted a breath when it came to the boy with the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen. And before you knew it, you warmed up to him. It didn’t take long but it wasn’t fast either. You were a girl with a lot of things on your mind and frankly, you were just perfectly fine in your own world and peace. But Jake managed to add something to that. You had no idea what or how, but he did.
“Y/N look!”
You looked up from how absentmindedly you were coloring in a butterfly, when you saw Jake running towards you..
With a dog? On a leash?
You sat up with a slight gasp at the sight out of the creature and before you knew it, the dog hopped on you leaving gentle but happy licks all over your face.
“Layla, no!” Jake yelled sternly.
Holding up your arms, you tried blocking them away with a loud laugh before you settled for petting her. Not before pushing her away tho.
“Oh my,” The boy before you sighed in distress, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “I’m so sorry about that Y/N. She’s still a puppy, so she’s full of energy,”
“Don’t apologize,” You shake your head before allowing Layla to take up the space on your lap for some more scritches.
“But I’m kinda mad, why didn’t you tell me you had a dog!”
“Umm…” Jake giggled sheepishly, “I actually just got her a few days ago. I was gonna tell you eventually..”
You gasped in mock offense before picking up a coloring pencil to throw at him.
“Hey!”
“You could’ve still have told me!”
“I was going to!”
Your bickering stopped by Layla jumping off your lap and running around the both of you in circles, indicating she wanted to play and have some energy spent. As if she hasn’t done that already.
“We we’re actually planning on going to the beach,”
Jake saw the way your eyes lit up and he couldn’t help the quick stutter his heart did. What was this feeling?
“Really? Can I join?”
“That was the plan, silly,”
Dusting off your lap from Layla’s jump earlier, you were about to stand up before two hands grabbed yours. Gently, they pulled you up to your feet and then gently let go. Almost as if knowing what was going on, Layla looked back and forth between the two young humans in front of her, before she barked to gather their attention.
“Oh! Uh, she’s getting impatient, we should go,” Jake quickly mumbled out before picking up his dog’s leash off the where he dropped it in the grass.
“Wait!” You looked back at your house before looking back at your friend.
And by then, Jake already knew what was stirring up your hesitation. He smiled at you reassuringly.
“I already told your mom. She said dinner will be done by the time you’re home.”
You could finally let out the breath you’ve been holding.
“Plus your mom loves me,” Jake quipped teasingly.
The young boy laughed at your eye roll and before you both knew it, you were both running, along with Layla down to the beach, with the dog before the both of you barking profusely with a hint of excitement. The whole afternoon was just you and Jake by each other’s side, with his dog running back and forth in the water. She even shook all of her water from her fur at both of you at some point to the point where you both were on the sand rolling around, both of your laughters mixing together that mingled in the sky above off you. It added more to the memories and you both knew you would be thinking about that day till the day you both grew old and wrinkly.
You knew that day, that you wouldn’t wanna spend days like these with anybody but with Jake.
Years went by, things blossomed and so did your bond with Jake.
It went from meeting him to that one random night on the beach, to you finding out you lived just barely away from each other, to you starting classes together properly after your mom’s job paid her enough for that to happened. You remember the sheer happiness when she told you that and how much that meant to younger you. You weren’t isolated by any means, in fact, your mom encouraged you to check the world for yourself. But you would rather have things done at your pace, so that’s what you did. Luckily she understood and you were beyond thankful.
You also noticed changes about Jake. At some point you and him were the same height, but ever since highschool hit, he’s grown like a head, almost two heads taller than you. He’s grown his fringes out, even at some point dyed it through the school years to the point where you had no idea how many times he did it. You remember one time dyeing it for him tho and that shit was a complete disaster and you wouldn’t have blamed him if he wanted to bald that way. You were still attached to the hip pretty much.
But something that has been coming back to biting you, was that you had no idea where you and Jake’s relationship were interlinked at. You were both seniors in highschool now and things were rocky. God forbid your younger self thought that growing older would result in you being able to talk about your feelings and emotions better, but no. You realized that wasn’t the case. There was definitely something holding you back. You just didn’t wanna come to terms with what it was. Running a hand through your head, you plopped down your bed, arms and legs spread out.
“Y/N?” You suddenly heard someone knock on your door before a head peeked in.
“Did you remember to take your medication?” She asked before stepping foot unto your room.
“Mom.. we already talked about this,”
“You can’t just keep pushing me away,” She insisted
You huffed before sitting, “Can’t we talk about this later please? I have to study for an upcoming exam. I promise I’ll take them later,”
“Y/N—“
“—Mom please..” You looked away from her, voice wavering, “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
You heard her sigh, before footsteps and the sound of your door being closed.
Reaching out for your phone on your bedside, your first instinct was to text Jake. But you knew the sound of his voice was exactly what you needed right now. More than anything. Hovering your thumb over his Caller ID, you slowly started debating if this really was a good idea. Now that you think about it, you and Jake haven’t really talked much due to busy schedules, and you’ve also noticed him confiding comfort in a group of friends you’ve never talked to before, while you had a group of friends of your own.
You missed him. And it was eating you up from the inside.
“Fuck it,” You whispered before dialing his number.
The ringing was not a fit match for how quick your heart was beating, it was practically beating out of your chest and you didn’t like it. Not one bit. But you couldn’t deny in how much need you were of his voice. It was almost embarrassing.
He still had no idea.
“Y/N?”
You smiled. After all this time, his voice was still your favorite tune.
“Hi Jake..”
“Y/N? Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Why do you always assume that something’s wrong?” You giggled and even tho you couldn’t see his face, you knew his face was definitely scrunched up in his one infamous frowns.
“Well, I’m sorry for caring I guess,”
“No you’re not,”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
The same old Jake.
“I miss you, y’know?” He finally spoke up, “I feel like I barely see you anymore.”
“I’m still here, Jake. Life has just.. been busy you know—“
“—Y/N, no,”
You heard some shuffling on the other side of the line, before a dejected sigh.
“It’s because I barely see you anymore. Even your friends are worried about you. You’re still at school, I know you are because I know you wouldn’t miss any of your classes no matter how busy or tired you are but you always disappear so quickly after..”
“Like is there something you aren’t telling me?”
You wanted to tell him.
You wanted to tell him so badly but you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the look on his face when you did. He would be crushed and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself for that.
“Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Y/N—“
“No y’know what? I actually called you because I needed you and now you throw this on me—You and my mom are exactly the same. You both say the same shit and it’s pissing me off,” Not wasting a second thought, you hung up before throwing your phone on your bed, silent tears rolling down your face.
You went to sit on the bench by the beach the same day, after you heard your mom went to bed. Pulling up your knees closer to yourself, you were silently beating yourself up for not wearing something warmer. Though, you were eyeing your jacket, more or so Jake’s jacket that was hanging around your chair but decided not to take it at last minute.
Wrapping your arms around your knees, you took a look up at the night sky. The moon was seeking it’s place behind some dark clouds, the stars were doing their own things, the wind was getting colder. It was as if everything was going by slower? Or faster? You were not sure anymore but you knew it’s been an push and pull trick ever since that day.
Would it be too early to give up now?
“I knew I would find you here.”
“You can’t keep running away from us, from me, Y/N. I won’t let that happen,”
You turned your head, tears slowly starting to brim your eyes again. You didn’t want him to see you this way. Then there is a sudden pressure on your shoulders and by now you knew Jake has wrapped your upper body up in his jacket, with him now in his white sweatshirt and black plaid pajamas pants. He wasn’t expecting any response from you, in fact, he was just happy to be in your presence and not you running away nor pushing him away.
“I won’t force you to say anything,” He slowly sits down, the space beside you always available for him. There hasn’t been a day where it hasn’t been.
“But.. I hope you know you can talk—“
“I don’t have a lot of time, Jake,”
The first pen drop.
When you didn’t receive any response, you turned your head and hoped for the worst. Jake was still staring forward, towards the waves and how more far away they suddenly sounded.
“I only have two years left.”
That made him turn his head to look at you. The look in his eyes made your heart drop. In all these many years you’ve known Jake, you have never seen him look like this, so empty, so hollow of thoughts, so broken and if you weren’t such a mess yourself, you would have tried to pick up pieces back together. But what was it worth if you couldn’t even pick up your own? Staying alive at this point felt like a chore, a walk even down to the beach sometimes took all the air out of your lungs if you didn’t take your medications.
You managed to catch the tear you saw roll down his cheek with the soft pad of your thump. He gripped your wrist in his hand when he felt it about to retreat and held it up to his cheek, fearing you would disappear faster if he didn’t. Your warmth was all he needed now. Jake hated asking for too much but he wanted to be selfish for once, right now.
“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, feeling the tears roll again, “I should’ve told you. But this was what I was fearing for. Seeing your reaction, seeing the look on your face especially after—“
Feeling a warm gentle hand cupping your cheek, you felt your words get caught in your throat when you took in the way he looked at you now. There was still sadness lingering but you really couldn’t put a finger on what the rest was. But that didn’t really occur your mind. You just needed him to say something.
“Jake, please say something..” You begged, voice cracking, “Yell at me, scream at me, anything!”
You failed to see the way he moved closer.
“Especially for the way I’ve been treating you. That’s the least I deserve,” Pushing at his chest, you couldn’t help but let more tears roll, the place on your lap a sea of your own sorrows by that point
“Why are you looking at me like that, Jake please—“
Your hands faltered their pushing on his chest when you felt something soft yet wet on your lips. Closing your eyes which were still filled with tears, you pushed yourself closer and basked in the gentle kiss that belonged to him.
It was always him.
You knew it by now, you knew it ever since your first encounter on that one night at the beach, at the exact same place where you were at now.
A lot has changed, with how low your energy has gotten, you couldn’t bring yourself to attend to classes psychically anymore. And by what your personal doctor has said, any stress can trigger the most especially in the state you’re in right now and nobody, especially your mother wouldn’t ever wanna take that risk. So you settled for going to school but at home instead, in the walls of your room. Your routine has gotten progressively more straightforward than what it usually was. You were drained and the eye bags under your would tell anyone a story that you, yourself wouldn’t be able to, lips chapped and peeling. You could barely recognize the sight of yourself anymore.
Jake was walking around with a heavy heart. You were finally his but at what cost? These past weeks has just been him lingering by your side more and more each day to the point he might practically live at your place now. Frankly, he wasn’t doing better himself. He was beating himself up for making everything seem like your fault when nothing was ever your fault to begin it. The world was just too cruel to make space for someone as precious and as delicate as you, the world never deserved you. Jake can’t count the amount of times he’s managed to utter those words to you, while trailing his browns over your features, with your hands interlocked under the sea of stars and crescent moon. And he memorized your reaction to his words each time. You were really the most endearing piece of art to him.
He knew you were trying. You even told him you were so he wouldn’t worry too much, you would fe your ribs construct whenever you saw the way he was trying so hard to keep himself from breaking down when he felt the warmth from your hands, from your body slowly leave your body day by then. All that warmth that you usually provided, was all gone. All the warmth he would confide in whether it was after a stressful day after of classes, work or the insignificant days where he got unto an argument with his mother. He was seeking for your warmth everywhere he went.
Yet Jake held unto the last amount of warmth you had left. That was all he could do.
“Jake,” He heard his mother’s voice speak up before he felt her shake his shoulders, obviously trying to wake him from his afternoon nap.
“I’m up, I’m up,” Groaning he sat up and was met with his mom’s frantic pacing.
He gave her a confused look.
“Mom—?”
“It’s Y/N,” She breathed out, “Her mom just called from the at the hospital..”
“Apparently she had a seizure,”
That was then Jake felt his whole world collapse.
This couldn’t be..
“B-But how.. I.. She was okay when I saw her last day..” He felt his breath getting stuck along with his world. This couldn’t be. His mom didn’t say anything but instead pulled him unto his arms and that was where Jake allowed himself to break down fully. Without any care in the world. You were getting further and further away each day and he had no idea how to cope with it. He was angry, frustrated, why was he letting this happen? Why couldn’t he have done more? For you?
You deserved everything, but this.
“I will miss seeing the stars,”
Even with a light hoarse lilt to your voice, it still sounded soft and gentle in Jake’s ears. Like it always has. You were wearing a soft smile when looking at the stars from the hospital window, that never seemed to falter when you turned to look at him.
“I know you will, my love.”
Your smile faltered when you noticed that he was in deep in thoughts. He always we’re but this time it wasn’t out of sheer sadness and distress but more like.. he was bashful?
“Is something bothering you, my Jake?”
He didn’t respond but from the corner of your eyes, you saw him pull out a small black velvet box. You gasped.
“I know we’re still young and all but..” He says carefully, “But you’re probably the only person I’ve ever felt this sure with. This secure with and I honestly couldn’t have asked for someone better,”
Slowly opening the box, there was it. A ring. A silver ring littered with small diamonds on the sides, with the biggest one being shaped in a crystallized star. You looked up and you realized Jake hasn’t looked away from you once, trying his best to read your reaction and body language, making sure he hasn’t been overstepping anything.
“I know you hate asking for much, just like I do but..”
“Jake I..” You shake your head, eyes wide, “It’s beautiful..”
Taking out the ring from the box, he gently took your hand before slipping the ring on before bringing it up to seal it with a kiss to your knuckles.
“You don’t have to say anything.. I know that—“
“My Jake, of course I wanna marry you..”
Jake woke up startled to the someone knocking on his front door. Automatically he reached beside him but was met with nothing but the cold sheets.
Heaving another deep sigh from his chest, he slipped on slippers before walking downstairs, careful not to wake up his daughter. He was met with Layla who was pressing her snout against the door, curious herself, tail slightly wagging before letting out a small bark at the sight of her owner
“Hey girl,” He cooed with a scratch to the canine’s head, “Be quiet now, wouldn’t wanna wake anyone up would we?”
Honestly, Jake had no idea what he was expecting when opening the door but..
“Mrs. Y/N?”
“Hi son..” She muttered, “I hope you’re doing okay. Look, I-I don’t have much time but this morning I came across this while cleaning up in Y/N’s room and found this,”
The woman gave a careful smile and that was then he noticed a small envelope in her hand.
“I was about to open it but I think it was meant for you,”
Carefully taking the letter, he examined it before turning it around where he noticed something written in messy yet distinguished writing.
‘For him <3’
‘Dear you,
I don’t know what this letter will be when you receive it but I hope it lands safely in your hands.
Life hasn’t been easy and to be honest, I never expected it to be. You and I both know that. But what I do know is that you’ve made my life easier. I don’t know if that has do with the solace from your words or the stars from your eyes. But in me somewhere, I knew you changed my life for the better. I can’t think of a person who’s made me laugh and smile as much as you have, I think that itself alone is impossible if you ask me.
I hope you aren’t too hard on yourself. And if you are, a reminder that I never wanted you to be and neither does your mother and our daughter. I may not be here when you read this so please think about them when life gets hard and when you can feel yourself shift the blame on yourself for all the things that was never your fault to begin with. I didn’t ask for how my life turned out, neither did you. None of us did. Life just has some dwelling sometimes and at some point, they like to take it out on one of us.
It’s not fair. I know.
But I hope you can look up at the stars and see me.
I will always be here with you.
Your, Y/N L/N.’
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taglist: @karinasbaby @nishions @hittoki @superbbananananana @mimizen127 @jjunie-0 @ghostiiess
2024 © fariest, do not copy, modify or post my work to other sites
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Hii babe!!
I just read both of your Connor fic/hc’s and I love them! I was wondering if you could do something with Connor and a daughter of Aphrodite reader? Maybe headcannons of how he would be on a quest (pre-dating or dating I don’t mind), or potentially something about sneaking out of camp with him (again pre-dating/dating)? If you have another idea go ahead I just don’t find many people who write for Connor so I figured I’d request
Thanks so much!!! 🩷🩷
⋆⭒˚.⋆ connor stoll x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs
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content: connor stoll x daughter of aphrodite! reader warning: allusions to authoring need sex (sorry, I was foaming at the mouth that’s my bad), language for sure, author's note: i be doing so many daughter of aphrodite x characters that this one took so long simply bc my pinterest was struggling to pinterest and find me cute pink pics.
just a girl and her ironic shirt loving boyfriend
i just know his closet (chest?? idk where they store their clothes in those cabins someone call up good sir rick and ask bc this is gonna live rent free in my head until i figure it out) is full of those shirts.
'women want me. fish fear me.'
'im not as think as you drunk i am.'
bro loves them, laughs every time he puts it on and looks in the mirror
and so, to prove your love to him, you took a risk with your fashion
while you were kinda known for your excellent fashion taste, your boy was so worth putting it at risk to see the huge smile stretch across his lips
'i heart to make boys cry' proudly stretched across your chest
he's drooling
he's sobbing
he's completely in love
and he's buying a matching one, expeditiously
connor loves to pull tiny pranks on you, nothing too big or serious bc you WILL cry
hiding your lip gloss, replacing the makeup in your makeup with confetti that blows up in your face when you open it, those candles that don't blow out on your birthday
OH OH OH and he loves to that thing where like he says, 'you've got something on your shirt' and when you look down he like flicks your face back up
well, if you were travis he'd flick your face back up
but since youre you, he holds your chin in his hand and lifts your face back up and plants a big kiss on your lips
he laughs every time, thinks hes funny or some shit
he is funny but don't tell him that
also he will always steal for you. like, always
"oh that shirt is so cute."
"okay okay, so cover my back from the security camera over there and i'll shove it into my pants-"
"connie, baby, i'm just going to buy it. like a normal person."
"...why?"
calls you 'love bug'
just his little love bug, his sweet lover girl, his dove
if he sees something that comes in pink and blue, he's buying it
and proudly showing it to you, claiming its you guys in another universe
"this is use if we were converses- OH, and this is us if we were toothbrushes. this is us if we were cars- look, they're kissing, isn't that cute??"
he's on the verge of tears telling you this
every pink sunset, he sends you a pic, telling you that it reminded him of you
also, NEEDS a 'im home' text or will think you died
after a hang out, you're just chilling at home until connor comes running into your house, pulling you into a tight hug as you look at him confused
"con, what's going on?"
"you didn't tell me you got home and i thought you died."
"...and you didn't think to call??"
"...no."
unprompted, you bought a necklace with a dainty little 'c' on it and you just wore it one day without giving him warning or anything
he sees it and he's just all smiles, reaching a finger out and pulling it away from your skin gently
"what's this for then?"
"oh, the 'c' stands for chocolate, you know i love my chocolate-"
"shut up," he hums, not even giving you time to reply as he presses his lips against yours
he gets a matching one
and it looks great during sex, your initial dangling over your head as his slips around on your chest
god that's so hot-
i need my matchy-matchy boyfriend
i need my soft boy
i need sex-
jk jk jk
...kinda
oh and if you think this boy isn't sneaking in and out and all about camp for you, you're sooooo wrong
he sneaks things in, sure, but that's easy
what's more of a challenge is when he promised you a date outside of camp
but even that's relatively easy
you guys just climb into the back of the delivery truck, hiding among the strawberries until one of his siblings slaps the side of the truck, telling them they're good to go
before you guys started dating, it was kinda awkward as there really wasn't much space back there, both of you trying to shuffle away and give the other as much space as possible
but now...you're on his lap the whole ride
trust, those strawberries have SEEN some things
hope they find peace fr
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"May I have this dance?"
Pairing: TOS Spock x Reader Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Words: 1.3K Summary: Sometimes all you need to do is talk and dance. A/N: I feel like this one is a bit OOC but I don't really care right now.
Not my gif!!!
WINTER WRITING PLAN
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Sighing, you close the door behind you and kick your shoes off your feet. Note to self, next time just wear comfortable trainers. No one would care anyway. In a way, you were grateful to your husband for dragging you home early from the New Year's party, because you weren't sure how much longer you could have stood in those shoes.
On the other hand, you felt melancholy rising inside you as your eyes fell on the clock, which told you that it was only twenty minutes until midnight. You had been looking forward to the party for weeks, where the whole crew would meet (the five-year mission was over and the Enterprise had been in dock for repairs for two months) and the sight of familiar faces had put you in high spirits. However, Spock had taken you aside at a little after eleven and asked you to leave.
He was not too keen on large gatherings of people, even if he knew them well, and the loud music made his ears shrill. You had known that this would happen, but you had still hoped that you would at least manage to stay until midnight. Nevertheless, you did not grumble, but said goodbye to your friends and then, led by Spock, started on your way home. After all, he had only come and practically suffered for your sake and for your love, so you could not refuse to let him go if it became too much for him.
"You're disappointed." His voice made you look up. As so often, it was far from emotional and with his arms folded behind his back, he looked as if he were reporting to the captain on the Enterprise. "No, I'm not."
"But you're not happy about us leaving either." You sighed and walked over to him until you were standing in front of him. "I want to be honest with you Spock. No, I'm not happy. However, I'm not angry or disappointed either. I knew we would leave early because you are not comfortable with such festivities. However, I had hoped that we could stay there at least until midnight to celebrate the New Year with the others."
You smiled and gently felt for his hand, which he allowed. "However, I don't want you to feel guilty either." "I am Vulcan, I do not feel emotions." You just shook your head with a smile. "Of course not." You tried to turn around, however Spock continued to hold your hand. "If you had said so, we could have stayed."
"No," you shook your head. "You were uncomfortable and no celebration or party in the world is worth making you feel bad." "What a sentimental way of thinking." Smirking, you broke away from him to go to the bathroom and take off your jewellery. "Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same in my place, Spock."
"Maybe." He sounded thoughtful, lost in thought and you didn't get a longer answer, however, this was nothing new for you and you didn't think anything of it, so engrossed were you in removing the jewellery as well as make-up and the tightly fitting hairstyle. You only looked up when soft classical music flew into the bathroom. French, eighteenth century, if you were not mistaken. Confused, you drew your eyebrows together. "Spock?" No answer.
With another sigh, you set aside the rag of make-up remover you had just been about to use and left the bathroom. "Spock, what are ... you doing?" The last word almost stuck in your throat as you stepped into the living room. In no time at all, Spock had moved the furniture aside to create an open area in the middle of the room and had gathered pretty much all the candles in your flat together, lit them and spread them around the room so that they provided the only source of light.
He himself stood, still dressed in a festive black Vulcan tunic in the centre of the room, his face bathed in gold from the candlelight, his arms folded behind his back. "Spock, what...?" You were at a loss for words and Spock merely raised an eyebrow before taking elegant and lithe long strides towards you, coming to a stop in front of you. He looked down at you and regarded you for a few moments.
"I realised again tonight how much you have to give up to be married to me. I am aware that I am not always easy and that in many ways I do not conform to proper human behaviour. I am also aware of the fact that many persons around you have not spoken well of this marriage, but you have not allowed yourself to be influenced." He lowered his gaze slightly and you thought you could see a greenish glow on his cheeks.
"I have not fulfilled my duties as a husband well and no," he interrupted your protests before they could begin, " I will take no criticism in that regard. You have made many sacrifices and I have seldom appreciated them. For that I would like, humbly, to ask your forgiveness. I am also aware that it is not nearly equal to what you are doing to conform to my customs, however, I hope to make a start with this." Without hesitation, he slowly brought out his free hand, not covered in gloves, and held it out to you, his gaze now locked razor-sharp on yours.
"May I have this dance?"
For a few moments you were speechless. You had told Spock at the beginning of your relationship how much you loved dancing, but Spock had never shown any particular affection for it, so at some point you had stopped asking. However, you had always enjoyed it. Always.
It had been something private between you, almost intimate, since Spock, as you might expect, had not enjoyed indulging in such emotional things in front of other people, which was why you had danced supremely in the privacy of your quarters. That he now asked for it, willingly, and even seemed pleased, warmed your heart and almost caused you to turn into a squealing teenager.
"I would be honoured."
Carefully you took his hand and instantly you were flooded with feelings of affection and pure love that almost brought tears to your eyes. Gently, Spock led you onto the self-made dance floor and pulled you so close to him that you thought you could feel his heartbeat. Slowly Spock began to lead you, spinning you in circles and being, as in everything, elegant, smooth and just perfect.
In time, you relaxed enough to rest your head on his shoulder and sigh contentedly as his scent hit your nose and he pulled you even closer. "Thank you," you whispered after a few minutes of silent dancing and Spock just hummed softly in denial. "There is nothing to thank me for, Adun'a."
Before you could answer, bangs sounded outside and a glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions. "It's midnight," Spock spoke your thought as you broke away from him and walked over to the window on your balcony. Spock stepped behind you, "Do you want to go out?" "No," you shook your head. "Those fireworks are loud and I don't want your ears to hurt." "I already told you, it's not just you who has to forego-"
You interrupted him. "However, I would like to do something different. It's kind of a tradition, even if we're a few seconds late." "Very well." You laughed softly. "You don't even know what it's about Spock." "I trust you."
For whatever reason, these words gave you the rest. Gently you put your hands on his cheeks, pulled him down to you and pressed your lips to his. It wasn't a very long kiss, but it conveyed all the emotions you wanted to show and gave Spock enough time to pull you a little closer to him. "I think I might take a liking to that tradition," Spock reflected and you could see the amusement in his eyes and had to laugh.
"Happy New Year, Spock." "I wish you the same, Adun'a."
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@bigblissandlove1
@akamitrani
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grapejuicestyless · 4 months
Text
Pomegranates
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n is naive and Harry knows it. She is so easy to fool, so easy to change. Her heart, something meant to be a gift is her curse. And it only hurts her in the end. Based off of pomegranate symbolism.
ANGST(what else am I good for)
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How selfish the world is. To allow a person, so sweet and soft. To give love, share love with whomever they choose. Only to let another mutilate the heart that was once full.
To let the wicked taint the pure and the cruel diminish the kind. It was a sick thing, but something that would never be changed. While you could avoid the easily detectable, sometimes flaws came out over time. As you peel back the layers, you submerge yourself into the mess you let yourself make. And over time, you begin to wonder if it’s truly worth it.
Y/n really liked pomegranates. She told Harry that on their first date. Rapid fire questions between the two of them, candle light dinner and a glimmer in their eyes. More than that, something she was too shy to share out loud, she found that she really liked his eyes. How green they were. They truly were captivating, in a way she had never experienced before.
She liked the way his toothy grin made her feel excited. How his hands would ghost over her skin and leave goosebumps in their wake. When he whispered those sweet nothings to her, she felt nothing but desire for her lover beside her. His hot breath by her neckline and his possessive touch.
When her friends warned her they were moving far too fast, she shrugged them off, scoffing and teasing about love and jealousy. She didn’t see an issue with their pace. How quickly she’d moved in, how quietly she’d distanced herself from everyone else. Harry had told her that they were no good friends. Real friends wouldn’t try to pry and break apart relationships. He whispered in her ear about jealousy and selfishness. And the sparkle in his eyes and the way his arms wrapped tighter around her made Y/n believe him somehow.
It was the start of the end, and Y/n could not see it.
But it was in her nature. Born to become someone who nurtured, not to be nurtured. With her well spoken tongue and her infectious laughter. Her trusting heart and foolish soul. Everyone always knew she was destined for a life of happiness, even if it was under false pretenses.
Merely ten months into their relationship, when Harry got down properly on one knee, declaring his love to her with tears in his eyes and a shaky voice, Y/n proudly put the rock on her finger and smiled with such innocence it was certain the girl was unaware of the suffering that would come.
Her parents warn her that he’s no good. That under all his affection there’s a wicked man with a sinister smirk and a list of hurting people. Her friends tell her she’s making a mistake. And only three of her friends come to the wedding.
She doesn’t understand why, at first. Each morning, he greets her with a kiss, raspy morning voice mumbling about how he still can’t process that she is finally his. At night, he has her beneath him, puffs of air escaping their mouths and lips locking together messily. She’s never felt more loved. He’s a loving man who treats her right, so why is their love so disapproved of?
She had a kind spirit, a trusting heart, and a foolish soul. It was obvious. An innocent little thing. Something so easy to take advantage of, to manipulate.
Y/n loved pomegranates, so she should’ve known. The more you peel back the layers, the messier it gets.
Soon, the sweet nothings turn to dead silence. And bodies pressed together with no room to breathe turns to backs facing each other and prayers from Y/n that he will once again show her the same affection that he once had for her.
Silent prayers turn to countless efforts to catch his attention. Home cooked meals, new dresses, new perfumes. She’s nearly there. Peeling back pieces at a time. She’s craving the sweetness she once had before. The sweetness she believes is still there. Somewhere in an undiscovered space.
It consumes her until she has nothing left to change, nothing left to give. She has done all the work, put in all the effort. Harry has ripped her apart and taken all the sweetness she had to offer. He has left behind a distant, heartbroken woman. Only the husk left behind from what once was.
When he kisses her goodnight, he doesn’t even notice the difference in her eyes. The cloudiness or the way her smile lines have turned to frown lines. Her eyebrows have wrinkles in front of them and her skin by her nails is picked and pulled completely raw.
He doesn’t notice because he doesn’t care. Because he doesn’t have to work for it anymore. She’s already his. Completely and forevermore.
Harry thought it was amusing, the whole situation. How she’d bent to his will. Made the mess for him, peeling back each layer of skin until the fruit was left bare and vulnerable to him. And she let him take it all without a fight.
On their first date, Y/n had mentioned how much she loved pomegranates. Promised she would slice and peel them just so he could have a taste. She raved about the sweetness inside. Harry didn’t think it was worth the mess.
And he still didn’t.
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kisses4lao · 6 months
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Could you write a one shot of Kung Lao having sex for the first time with his partner? It’s okay if you don’t 🫶 just want to let you know I enjoy your Kung Lao works 😎✨
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Mixing all three of these together because I fucking can
To answer the question, yes I write for bottom kung lao, yes I write him submissive when the situation calls for it, yes he whimpers, it is what it is.
Tw/cw: readers a virgin, unprotected sex, AFAB reader, kung lao is so sweet I'd cry, he's also experienced it's whatever tho, piv, Kung Lao has incredibly horny thoughts about reader bc readers fucking awesome, bottom Kung Lao, he talks you through it like a good boyfriend, PRAISSSEEEE SO MUCH PRAISSSEEEE
Not proofread
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Kung Laos definitely experienced, he'd had one night stands before but he stopped once he got with you. He'd practically devoted his life to you and making you happy.
He's been known to have a high sex drive, this paired with you constantly helping him with training and farming hasn't helped him at all. Your small shorts hiking up your thighs and the way you'd bend down to pull weeds up, making your ass look oh so grabbable makes his mouth run dry.
He'd often times have to excuse himself just so he could fuck his hand to the thought of you. No one has ever made him feel like this, but you have him completely weak to his knees.
Most of the time when you two would go out together, he'd often find himself getting lost in the way your hips would move when you walked. He'd easily get a boner if you ever wore a corset or anything to accentuate your waist.
He'd feel so guilty for his thoughts about you. He knows you're a virgin, you guys have had conversations about how you just weren't ready for that sort of thing yet. He was completely okay with it, he wouldn't do anything to make you upset, but if only you knew what you did to him.
He wanted nothing more than to touch you at every waking moment, wishing that he could tell you how he felt, but he waited. He was patient, he knew you were worth it.
And finally, as if Liu Kang himself heard his prayers and saw his horniness, after 5 months you decided you were ready. Kung Lao was ecstatic but he'd never outright say it.
He wanted your first time to be a night you both wouldn't forget. He took you out to the fanciest restaurant he could find, let you order whatever you wanted and he'd pay for the entire thing. He even wore a suit for the occasion and made you breakfast in bed earlier that morning.
When you got home after an awfully expensive dinner(not that he'd let you see the check, but you could tell), he led you to his bedroom that was decorated with pink and white lotus petals, sourced from his own personal garden; as well as some lit candles.
"I hope you like it, I had Raiden come over and light up all the candles while we were away. I didn't know what specific scent you would like for something like this, so I went safe and got apple pie candles. I hope you like them."
With that, he took your hands in his and gave you a soft smile. He slowly leaned in and gave you a small kiss before leading you to the bed. He gently placed you down and kissed your neck down to your chest, placing both hands on your thighs as he gently rubbed them.
He looks up at you with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes, "are you sure you're alright with this? I'll wait for however long it takes for you to be comfortable, I don't mind waiting a little longer."
"It's alright Lao. I'm ready, promise." You give him a smile and he quickly returns it.
His hands went up your thighs more, slowly pulling down your panties as he continued to kiss your chest. He took your panties off and discarded them somewhere in the room, he's gonna be keeping those so don't worry about them.
He moved up more, latching himself to your neck as he placed soft kisses and nips wherever he could. Gently, he placed his fingers into your heat, slowly rubbing into your pussy. You begin to whimper and instinctively close your legs around him. Kung Lao lightly chuckles at this and slowly has to pry them open again, continuing his movements after.
Once you were wet enough, he started with inserting one finger into your tight pussy, curling it as he stretches you out. You begin to groan in both pain and pleasure, he takes his free hand and rubs your inner thigh in an attempt to comfort you. "I know it hurts, I know, just a little longer, okay? I promise it'll be worth it."
Once he could, he inserted a second finger. Being able to scissor them made you warm up to the feeling and the stretch much quicker. Your moans turned into pleasurable ones by the time he could insert a third finger in.
Once you were finally stretched out enough, he began to undress the both of you. Starting with himself to hopefully make you more comfortable, he unclipped your bra, revelling in how beautiful you looked.
"God, you're so beautiful, it feels like a dream waking up next to you everyday, you know that?" He laughs as he gives you a small yet passionate kiss, pulling back so he can take off his boxers. He groaned at the feeling of his cock springing free, quickly taking notice of your anxious face.
"Hey, it'll be okay, alright? We can take it as slow as you want, and we can stop at any time. Just tell me okay?" With that, flips you over so you're on top of him, giving you a toothy smile as he places his hands on your waist. "You go down at your own pace, no rush."
You slowly begin to sink down on his cock, both of you letting out moans. Once it's fully in, you take a bit of time to adjust. You slowly begin to bounce on his cock, digging your nails into his side as you moan out his name. "Just like that, you take me so well, such a beautiful pussy all for me."
He whimpers and cry's out as you begin to clench down on him, gripping your sides tighter. "Lao- feels so good Lao-" "I know baby, you're doing so good for me, just like this."
It takes everything in Kung Lao not to start thrusting up into you, wanting to make you feel even more pleasure. But god did he feel amazing right now. Watching you bounce on his cock, seeing how your pussy sucks him in makes him want to cum on the spot.
"Y/n- plea- ngh... Please let me cum- I need you so bad-" he throws back his head in pleasure as he can feel small tears in the corner of his eyes, threatening to escape.
"Cum in me Lao, it's alright-" being caught up in the pleasure makes you say some pretty dumb shit. Just hearing you say his name in such a provocative way has him cumming so hard he practically screams your name. He lays his head down and breaths heavily, chanting your name like a prayer as he sinks his nails into your skin.
"How did it feel?" He looks up at you with pure happiness in his eyes. "I uhm.. didn't.. y'know.."
He could feel his heart sink. He forgot to make you cum. He immediately flips you over while he's still inside you, making you giggle and moan at the same time, resulting in round after round of him plowing into you over and over, and god did you love it.
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A/n: might have to make a master list JUST for my lao fics LMAO
Ps I'm a sucker for first time fics, I love it when big men are so soft <3
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kurogxrix · 6 months
Text
150 kilometers
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Police Officer!Ghost x reader
IN WHICH Officer Ghost catches you speeding way past the limit, but you to think of a way or two to avoid a ticket.
WC: 5.6k
Warnings: ANGST, smut, reader and Simon have history, oral (M), unprotected PinV, creampie, Simon’s unresolved feelings.
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“My momma told me that the money outgrew you,” 
The sound of Beyoncé’s ‘AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM’ was blasting through your car’s radio, barely audible with the way the passing wind was howling so aggressively. You had no one else to blame but yourself, the numbers 150 were in blast on your speedometer, yet you pretended to fall blind to it. It was all the more irresponsible and dangerous, yet who cared if you exceeded the 80km/h speed limit plastered on the signs each few metres if there was no one to witness the act but yourself. 
Solitude greeted you upon the streets, but you preferred it that way anyway. 
Nevertheless, one of your hands left the wheel to usher the sound up. Kendrick just had that effect on people. The breeze brushed through your freshly done hair, ruffling the style that you’d wasted an hour doing that same morning. Hair be damned, you had better places to be than on that deserted road. The engine of your pink convertible roared as you pressed further onto the pedal, a precious jewel that your father had gifted you. One that you’d gotten customised to your heart's extent. 
The sudden voice of the ‘Maps’ app assistant made you jolt slightly in your seat, making your car swerve about a few centimetres to the left. You shook your head in disappointment, god knows that that’d have ended if you were on the main road. The openings of the bag resting on the passenger seat beside you ruffled with the passing wind, the sun hitting your skin in all the most comforting ways. 
Nothing on this beautifully sunny day could have prepared you for the sudden flash of red and blue behind you, which could barely be seen considering the weather. You were 100% sure that this cop had popped out of thin air, because besides the lack of hiding spots besides the road, you knew that no car had followed you off the busy main road. Unless they’d broken the law and driven 70km/h above the speed limit alongside you. You could probably use that argument against said cop, yet again you feared he’d charge you extra just for getting smart with him. 
To top the absolute mess that you had gotten yourself into, the cop just had to signal you. The sound of his blaring alarm made a wave of embarrassment wash down your spine, despite being the two lone people accepting the street. 
“Fuck,” you cursed, bring the car to a stop once you’d bordered in to the side. You brushed down the vanity mirror before attempting to take your hair quickly, because if you were to get a ticket, then you might as well look amazing while doing it. 
Simon on his side was far too busy trying to recollect himself before leaving the car, pretending to busy himself with the fetch of his talkie-walkie as he inhaled a whole yard worth of air into his lungs. The packet of cigarettes lodged in his breast pocket begged at him for a second of his time, but he also had duties calling out for him. 
Out of all odds, he’d fallen on your car with you in it while he was on duty. He could have just called it a day and let you escape with the little victory of outrunning a cop, he’d be far better than he was then. 
Nevertheless, the push of his SUV door felt even heavier than it did on normal days. He feels a tinge of unease for a man that harbours the muscles that he does, but he convinced himself that he just wasn’t in his element at that moment. 
Unenthusiastic brown eyes fell upon the familiar licence plate, and suddenly he didn’t feel as brave as he did that same morning. His booted feet were bringing him forwards but his mind couldn’t help but reel further backwards. To the times where you’d both been mindless enough to mess around, unaware of all but the sweet scent of those rose candles that you’d lit before he’d come over. To the feeling of the sheets pooled around his bare hips in the aftermath of it all, and how distant the feel of your arms wrapped around his torso as you slept soundly now felt. 
Simon shook the intrusive thoughts away, raising his head and retaking the stance of the brave officer that he was. After all, all he needed to do was give you your ticket, reprimand you and send you off to wherever you were heading to. What was all the fuss about? Even if he knew, he would let his brain bother him. 
The heavy thud of his boots stopped beside your car door, the lack of protection from the windows and roof only scaring you now. 
“Do you know why I stopped you today?” you heard the annoyed sigh come, before the familiar tune of a middle aged man’s voice hit your ears. You turned your head towards his side so fast that you believed you would have broken it. Nevertheless, here he stood before you in all of his glory; Simon Riley, the man who’d rocked your world a couple of moons ago. 
You’d both agreed on the whole no strings attached thing, but you couldn’t stop the burning feeling in your chest once you realised on that fateful night that Simon wasn’t coming back. That the brit wouldn’t be here to ruffle your sheets and leave the bed intact while you hit the showers anymore. That the scent of roses would never feel as romantic as it did in his wake. It almost pained you to throw away that extra toothbrush that you’d gotten for him considering the amount of days a week he’d woken up at your house rather than his. 
You shook the thoughts away before hitting him with that overly sickening sweet smile of yours that you offered to all the others, because it wasn’t Simon Riley that you were facing at the instant, it was Officer Ghost. 
“I don’t know Officer, mind explaining to me?” The sultry tone of your question made Simon mentally double back. Be damned, your words even shocked you for a solid second before you could recover. Whatever the fuck you were doing flirting with your ex fling just to get out of a speed ticket? Only a madwoman would know. 
But of course you would, you knew that Simon had once been weak to your charms, and if you need to use that weakness of him at anytime; it would for sure be now. The blond can’t help his eyes from drifting into your car as he processed your words, admiring the personal touches that you’d gotten done in the last few months. 
He notes the fact that you’re barefoot because of the pair of heels that we’re resting under the passenger seat. You’d probably wear them later to whatever you were heading. Could it be to a boyfriend's house? To the club maybe where you’d meet and flirt with the young, hammered men that dared to lay their creeping eyes on you? Simon shook the stupid thoughts away, so what if you had a boyfriend? There was never something consistent going on between you two, and anyways your arrangement had ended long ago. You were free to date of fuck whichever guy you wanted to, he didn’t feel like he had a right to pry. 
Yet why did he feel a tinge of jealousy each time the thought would pop up in his head, like a nightmare haunting him at every given moment. The thought picked at him, a nasty feeling stirring in his abdomen tinged with shame. He was the one who’s decided to cut off all strings in the first place, strings that you'd both agreed to stray away from. Yet all he felt was guilt for the durations of the few months you’ve spent apart after the ‘break up’. 
“Was I driving too fast, officer? I didn’t even notice.” The flirtatious giggle broke Simon away from his daydream, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the new scene. You were no longer seated, belted in the comfort of your seat. Instead, your knees were planted firmly on your seat, digging into the leather. He noticed that you were standing far closer than you previously were in your seated position, your arms extended so you could rest your palms along the place where your windows would be. 
Fuck, all he wanted to do was to take you right there. Even if this really was the last time you’d see each other in a while or at all, he just wanted to feel you for a last time after so long spent without your warmth. It was shameful really, this was the first time you’d seen each other after the events of your silent heartbreak, yet all he wished for was to have his way with you on the warm leather backseats of your car. 
He couldn’t care less about the fact that you had a convertible, nobody even used this street. Nobody other than you of course, because you wouldn’t have been in this predicament if not. 
“You okay?” Simon recognized the fake tune of concern in your question as your palm made contact with the tactical vest upon his chest, resting on the right side of his torso. His eyes were firm and threatening once they reached yours, but you didn’t back down. You'd been with him once, he didn’t scare you as he did others. His resolve completely melted away the instant that you flashed him those down eyes that you knew he couldn’t resist. 
For a split second, Simon allowed his eyes to drift down onto you. If you were shamelessly and all the more not trying to hide the fact that you were flirting with him just to escape a fine, then he shouldn’t have to hide his wandering gaze anyway. Hardened brown iris rounded the corner, observing the way your dress stuck perfectly to your body. The way you were squeezing your arms to accentuate the low cut of that beautiful dress that you wore with pride. 
He mentally cursed himself as he felt the material of his cargos tightening under his growing erection, and he had no one else to blame but you. The way you were smiling at him in that coy manner made him want to have you sobbing and choking around his cock, eyes full of tears and mascara leaking down your cheeks. If anything, he wanted to ruin you before you arrived at your destination, and a nasty side of him wished you were actually off to see a guy. 
Suddenly, Simon jerked back once he felt the palm of your hand pawing at his erection. He’s taken by surprise at your boldness, not that you were shy with him before, it’s just been so long. He grunts in disapproval at the situation before moving further away from your car to try and stop himself from actually doing what he wishes to do to you. Because it’s not fair on you, you should be yelling at him to hurry up and fine you before leaving. Yell at him for stalling just to be in your presence when he made you feel like he didn’t want it before.  
Yet, Simon watched intently as you sat up further onto your knees, a hand reaching out for him once more. He allows your hand to hover over the gear on his tactical vest before succumbing to the weak pull to your way. He could have always fought back if he wanted to, pulled further away instead of leading himself right where you wanted him to be. No matter how burly or tatted he was on the outside, he submitted to you unlike the man that he was. 
“Cmon, how long has it been Si? Have you missed this? Just the two of us here, you don’t gotta hold it in.” The silence that Ghost held was broken once your hand dipped down to his pants once more, a hearty groan escaping his throat involuntary. Your hand went to the underside of his clothed crotch, caressing what you could, what he offered. 
Yet it wasn’t enough to satiate you, and the little devil resting on your shoulder whispered ungodly things to you. Officer Ghost was just so tall, it was like the world was on your side once you’d noticed that his waistline just happened to reach above the window line of your car. It helped that the vehicle was rather low, but it failed to help with the sultry thoughts brewing in your head. The thought of sucking off Ghost out here, from your car, sent heat rushing down your core. 
“Let me take care of you,” you muttered, your hand tightening around his hard, clothed cock. A shudder ran thick down Simon's back, and he didn’t need much contemplating to make up his mind. Rough gloved hands made contact with your jaw faster than you could comprehend, and next thing you knew, the pair of lips that you’d been reminiscing fell upon yours. He took pride in the way you had to tilt your head upwards to chase his lips. 
The kiss was soft at first, almost apologetic for everything that he’d put you through. Like he was apologising for having you fall for him, and most likely for leaving when you thought things were advancing between the two of you. When his apology went through, his left hand slid further down to the back of your neck. Like a switch had been pressed inside of him, the kiss grew rougher as you felt Simon’s tongue poking at your bottom lip. You didn’t falter, fighting for dominance despite knowing that he’d always overpower you. 
Your hands were far too busy trying to blindly understand the mechanism of his belt to worry about much else, before your fingers deciphered the mess of a buckle, pulling free the belt from his waist. Simon’s fingers grasped tightly at the tiny hairs littering your nape as he felt your hand slipping past his waistband, finally offering the pleasure he seeked as your warm palm made contact with his cock. 
Hell, you’d both missed this so much. It didn’t  matter if you were the one giving, you missed it just as much as he did. You couldn’t get very far before Simon pulled away from you, huge palm gripping at your wrist to pull your hand out of the confinement of his boxers. It disappointed you at first, pulling your hands back to yourself while watching him in puzzlement. He didn’t allow you to stay upset much longer as he pulled back just enough to pull his pants down far enough for everything that needs to be exposed, to be exposed. 
You nearly drooled at the sight of his heavy cock flushing against his clothed torso, where you knew hid a chiselled body unlike the other men you’d ever been with. He’s thick, but nothing you can’t take, with a thin land of hair at the base that he keeps nicely trimmed. Pulsing veins ran across his cock in the most mouth watering way you could ever imagine, and you just couldn’t wait to take him in your mouth. 
“You really think you’re ready? ‘Mean s’been a while now hasn’t it?” The smug smile that raised upon your lips was completely involuntary, though you enjoyed the fact that the cocky Simon that you loved was once more back. One hand gripped at the base of his cock as he dragged the heavy weight down, angling it towards your eager mouth. He’s a tease, always has been, and it didn’t matter that your torso was growing an indented line from the way you were bent over the side of your car, ass in the air and awaiting his cock patiently. 
His other hand moved to grab at your jaw, a delicious cocktail between the gentleness of his touch and roughness of his palm made you squeeze your thighs together. Simon tilted your head up, squeezing your cheeks together as he enjoyed the way your lips pucker. It’s cute, he thinks. He’d like to ruin your pretty little face. 
So he does just that, his feet moving on their own as he approaches you. He couldn’t care less that you’re transgressing the law by having public relations, he’s a cop yes, but inside he’s just a man. You wasted no time getting into action, pretty glossy lips wrapping softly around the tip of his cock. It’s flushed red and leaking precum that tastes funky on your tongue, but you’re so used to it by now that you’ve actually started to like it. 
Your tongue swiped along his slit in the way you knew Simon relishes, and by the way he tilted his head back with a groan, you knew it was no different this time. Your mouth worked him inch by inch, lubricating his cock slowly by slowly with your saliva. No inch went untouched. What you couldn’t reach, you tried to force down your throat. And what you still couldn’t received a kitten lick here and there, a swipe of your tongue each time you thought it got neglected. 
Simon's hand was now fully into your hair, a killer grip to it that had your scalp burning. Front and back, his hand guided your mouth back and forth on his dick at the speed he desired. You complied with no complaints. Taking him further down your throat, tongue running expertly down his veins as he shuddered once more. You got your hands in the business too, either gripping onto his shirt for stability or altering between the base of his cock and his balls. 
He's restless, the ball of his boots digging through the dirt beneath his feet. You could tell he was close by the way his groans grew in number by the second, and the grip he had of your hair hurt better than bad. The handsome officer before you had to ground a hand down onto your car to stabilise himself as you sucked the living shit out of him, another flick to his slit and he was off seeing the stars on a holiday in the galaxy. 
For a second, there was static, and then there was a voice. It rebounded into the distance, alongside the sloppy sounds of you sucking Simon’s cock like it was the last thing you were bound to do on earth. “-ost, you copy?” Again, the voice came back and Ghost could make out the harsh sound of his coworkers voice. 
He groaned in disgust, nothing like hearing the voice of the guy you work with while getting the sloppiest head by some chick you secretly fancy. A minute passed by before Ghost aggressively threw his hand at the talkie-walkie, unlatching it from the velcro with a loud crack. Simon swore to the god above that he nearly came as he looked down to the sight of your doe eyes looking at him expectedly through your mascara coated eyelashes. 
His hands tightened impossibly further in your hair as he motioned for you to continue sucking, which you did. 
“Ghost here, copy.” a curt and unbothered reply, all in the Ghost mannerism. 
His hand let go of your hair, instead claiming a spot upon your jaw. A big thumb caressed at your cheek, making the corners of your lips twist into a smile with your mouth full. You could feel him start to rock in your mouth slightly, trying to restrain himself from fucking your mouth roughly until your jaw stayed clamped shut. 
“We need you on lane 3, s’that possible?” static again, the voice came out muffled. He thought for a solid second, a moan escaping his throat thankfully before he could press on the button. 
“Give me a minute and I'm all yours,” his eyes shifted to yours throughout the sentence, making your cunt clench over nothing as you soaked your panties pathetically. Besides you, the talkie-walkie did a dramatic jump to the leather seat as Simon threw it. It rebounded and hit the floor instead, but nothing he’d care much about. 
You brought a hand up to cup the base of Simon’s cock in your hand as your mouth took a short break to ease your paining jaw, but before you could go back to work, he was completely pulled out of the warm comfort of your mouth. A trail of saliva connected you both in an unholy mix and he pulled away, his fingers clenching around your jaw. Your eyes never met his in the exchange, too busy relishing in the way his hard length looked and glistened coated in your saliva. Fuck, you really had a problem, you could’ve sworn you’d go crazy if Simon didn’t fuck you right then. 
“Get in the back, we don’t have much time.” he grumbled like you were the one asking for too much. If anything, the way his hard cock twitched at the disappearance of your touch made you think quite the opposite. Quickly hopping in the back and abandoning your place in the front seat, you watched as Simon made his way to the back door from outside.
He opened the door, eager to have you and ready for all until- 
“Woaaaaah, nobody’s getting in with their nasty ass shoes you hear me? Get them off, cmon” you pushed at his chest before he could even open the door, making Simon stop and stare at you dumbfounded. When he made no move to untie his boots and moved to open the door once more, you pushed harder against his chest, an eyebrow up to show that you weren’t fucking around. 
A defeated sigh left him as he bent down, undoing the double knots that he’d done that same morning. You smiled contentedly in success, moving away for him to have a seat so he’d be able to carefully slide his shoes off. You didn’t miss the grumbling from the grouchy middle aged man as he sat upon your seats, large hands working together to throw his boots off cleanly somewhere near. 
You took the time being to ready yourself, slipping a finger on each side of the waistband of your panties before pulling down. The cute, patterned garment pooled by your ankles before you could pry them off with your finger, tossing the pair safely in the cup holder by the door so you wouldn’t lose it. Or rather so it wouldn’t get stolen, god knows how many pairs you’d lost ever since your altercation with a certain bulky brit. 
You faced away from Simon, only aware of his approach once his shadow loomed over you. His hands gripped your hips in desperation, by surprise as it had you silently gasping. 
“Gotta prep you?” he muttered before pulling you flushed against him. You could feel the seam of his jeans by your lower thighs, meaning that he’d had the time to pull them further down, but high enough to pull back up in case anyone was to cross you both. A breathy whine left your throat as you felt him force a hand between the both of your bodies, hand grasping at the base of his cock to reposition himself. 
You pushed yourself impossibly back into his chest, the previous question had dissipated into the air as you felt your ability to talk had been ripped from you. He wasted no time manhandling you like he wished, your left hand grabbing onto the empty space of the open window as he pushed the tip of his hard cock through the entrance of your cunt. 
He assumed you didn’t need any prepping by the way you soaked his cock the second he made contact, but who was he to complain? Steadying himself, his left hand came to accompany yours across the window place, back flushed with his clothes torso, his gear digging into your flesh through the thin fabric of your dress. 
The mewl that escaped you as he repositioned himself was embarrassingly needy but you needed him now, no time to wait. Simon got the memo if anything, earning you some short thrusts that made him sink further and further into your heat with every push. Feeling weak already, your hand trembled under your own weight. 
He didn’t seem to mind it one bit, using his free hand to lace under you as he pushed against your chest, pulling you flushed against him once more. His strength was unmatched, he could keep himself up with only his knees for who knows how long, and you suspected that he’d worked in something more complex than the police squad for a while before switching. 
It didn’t matter anyways, what did was the feeling of Simon’s hard cock now buried to the hilt inside of you. His flushed tip kissed your cervix, a delicious pain that had tears springing to the corners of your eyes. If Simon had been less hurried he’d probably kiss them away, but Ghost felt the need to be selfish today. 
Slowly, the rhythm of his thrusts began picking up the pace as you felt the car rocking softly with the heavy weight of the muscular officer behind you. A hand scurrying down between your bodies, inching your dress further up your thighs so he could access whatever he wanted to, whenever he felt like it. 
“F-fuck Si, just like that,” you whined, urging him to pick up the pace. His hipbone slammed devilishly onto your ass and the noise reverberated around the empty space surrounding you both. Simon was sure that anyone around a couple of kilometres could hear you moaning like it was your last day on earth, but he just couldn’t get himself to do anything about it. The deserted area left him with some peace of mind. 
A sudden harsh thrust had you nearly doubling over, your hand tightening around the door as you shut your eyes closed. He pushed himself closer to your back, his head now stuffed in the crook of your neck as you drowned in the breathy groans that he was letting out. Your teeth found your bottom lip in a painful game of tug and war after Simon dropped a hand between your legs to tease at your clit. Circular motions had your vision clouding with pleasure, legs jelly under your own and Simon's weight. 
“Let go darlin’, I can tell you’re tryna hold back.” He accentuated with a sharp thrust, and this time you really couldn’t hold your own body up anymore. The backseat was cramped to the point where Simon's bulky ass frame nearly caused the both of you to be squeezed off, but the proximity was enjoyable after so much time spent apart. 
You felt a familiar coil knotting in your lower belly, and all it took was a couple more precise strokes from his veiny cock and a nibble to the sensitive underside of your neck for you to let go, white clouding your vision as you clenched tightly around him. The noise that the orgasm pulled out of you was so intense that you actually believed this time that people around a mile in range could’ve actually heard the echo. 
One of your hands darted away from the door to latch onto Simon's arm that was still busy keeping you upright, contorting the limb in some strange way despite the cramped setting. Your legs gave out with the trembling, blissful orgasm still working wonders on your recovering state. Simon didn’t waste any time working on his own now that he’d successfully satiated you. 
He allowed your body you give down, unwrapping his arm from under your torso so that your upper body rests flush against the leather seat. He pulled both hands back your hips to lift your ass up, meeting his own hips as the aggressive clash of flesh made a lustful sound that fed his cravings. His right hand dipped back down to rest above your head, but it wasn’t long before he was pushing you further into the seat. 
Simon was never really a rough lover, but at that moment something had snapped deep inside of him. He fucked you like he was afraid of never getting the chance to ever do it again. He fucked you like he believed he should’ve on that last day before he left for good. His knees were digging into leather seat so harshly that you were sure it was going to leave an indent for a day and a half, 
You sobbed at the overstimulating feeling of his cock repeatedly hitting the far spot inside your spent cunt over and over again, chasing the high that you’d just gotten over recently. Your tears fell upon the expensive leather of the sofa as your cries were muffled by his unrelenting pushing hand. 
You could tell he was close again when his hands left you to gently grasp at your hair, moving them to one side of your neck as he stabilised his weight by placing both hands besides your head. You remembered how handsy and ‘fidgety’ he got in some way when he was close to finishing. Then there were the few last hard thrusts that had you gripping onto the edge of the sofa for dear life, pumping your cunt full of his seed with an actual guttural moan that had you clenching all over again. 
You manoeuvred your body to shake your arms away from the position, biting onto your thumb to stop yourself from crying out loud with the way his short little thrusts were about to send you over the edge again. You didn’t think you could handle cuming once more without making an absolute mess of your car, further less if it was Ghost that made you finish. 
Even after his movements stabilised, you could still feel the warm sensation of his spent seeping out of you in excess, pussy full and satiated for as long as it needed to be. That was new, the whole fucking without a condom thing, let alone finishing inside of you. You couldn’t say you disliked the feeling. The sensation of his raw, meaty cock inside of you was something that you could sure as hell get used to. 
It felt like hours before Simon pulled out, arousal dribbling out of your tight cunt and down into your seat. You’d deal with the stains later, if anything you’d get the whole seat redone with that hard earned money that you’d made yourself while you were learning to get over the man that sat right beside you then. 
It was crazy to think of how much time it had taken you to actually get over Simon leaving, abandoning you after things had seemed to actually go somewhere between the two of you. You should’ve been ashamed of yourself for giving in without even trying to fight, maybe now he thought of you as some easy thing that he could always come back to once or twice a month when he felt desperate. You knew you should have more self respect but yet a part of you can’t seem to blame Simon for the way things had gone down between you two. 
Obviously you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and thought he’d reciprocate those feelings that you’d so unfortunately caught for him along the terms of your ‘no strings attached’ agreement. It wasn’t really his fault for following the terms that you’d both agreed to. Yet it hurt for a while to think that you’d fallen so hard for a man that you believed didn’t even see you further than for sex. 
You heard the sound of his fly before you could even see him buckling his belt back on. The part of you who’d always thought you’d meant a little more to him was desperately hurting, but nothing you’d allow Simon to see. After all, you'd initiated what happened on that day, to get out of a ticket or not, you had no one else to blame for the humiliation that you brought upon yourself. 
“Guess that’s settled then.” the blond muttered, typical awkwardness lacing his words. Your head turned at an embarrassingly fast pace when he’d even gotten to utter the first words. 
“What?” Your befuddled state had Simon deadpanning, before referring to the speed ticket like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You itched the back of your neck nervously as your gaze fell to your dress, still hiked disgracefully upon your hips. Your hands fell in a quick mess to gather yourself and redress, mentally using the excuse that it was just in case somebody was to fall upon you both.
Even if you couldn’t hide to yourself the fact that Simon’s blatant gaze made you feel a certain way that you knew you shouldn’t. 
“Duty calls, guess i gotta go,” with your eyes burning holes at your thighs you failed to notice the longing that clouded Simon’s iris at the administration. The silent apology for everything that he didn’t and couldn’t have given you in the past. An indescribable feeling of guilt shook his chest and he just couldn’t stand to be in the same vehicle that he’d just ruined you in for any longer. 
Despite the shameful fact that he’d kinda wished you’d beg for his presence a little longer, your silence pushed him to act. A fight or flight kind of situation, like he was running from his own feelings instead. Perhaps you’d never know how Simon truly felt about you, but you did know that it took him about a minute to fully leave the scene, the sound of his heavy motor dragging about a minute before disappearing from your sight. Simon left his aching heart in the backseat beside you. 
Riding 150km/h, you decided that maybe heading home would feel better than whatever destination was still etched on your map.  
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KEEP YOUR MW3 SPOILERS TO YOURSELF‼️ im buying the game next week.
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