#and so bitter and upset one night

[turnaboutchaos]

my mother needs to play ace attorney i need her to play it

[nanaslutt]

so i just read like… ALL your gojo stuff.

now imagine… gojo not being able to hold back and wanting to breed you after you both try those aphrodisiac chocolates… ahem…

i am absolutely terrified of getting pregnant yet have the words most insufferable breeding kink, we exist

Contains: fem reader, aphrodisiacs, masturbation, no prep, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, SOOO much dirty talk, praise, so much cum.., whiped!gojo, established relationship

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Gojo was talking soooo much shit when you sent him a link to some aphrodisiac chocolates you saw online. He would not stop dismissing that they didn’t actually work; saying none of that shit that advertised any kind of enhancement in sexual arousal ever did.

So of course you had to order the chocolates and really test it for yourselves, making a challenge out of it.

If the chocolates truly had an effect, gojo would do whatever you wanted, and if they didn’t? vice versa. Gojo was game, of course; because he didn’t think anything would happen.

“Bleh- they taste like shit too,” Satoru grimaced, chasing the horrible flavor with a strawberry soda.

“That’s probably because there’s something in them satoru…like the aphrodisiac…,” you shook you head, swallowing the bitter chocolate.

“Orrrr; crazy thought; it’s just some cheap chocolate marketed as aphrodisiacs to make a ton of money off of people like us.” he drawled, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them around when he spoke.

“I really thought you out of all people would find this kind of thing fun satoru.” you said, trying to push his buttons a bit.

“We’ll of course, chocolate and sex? I’m all over that,” he said making you laugh, “but me and suguru tried something like this for fun back in our student days, it was some kind of pill though,” his face twisted in discomfort as he spoke, “just ended up making us super sick tho, yaga got pissed, heh” he laughed, remembering the memory.

“Knowing you two it was probably some cheap boner pill you got in a sketchy bag at the convenience store.. so that might explain it.” you snorted,

He rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck, “yeah, there was like 5 other pills in the bag with it now that I think about it..” he said quietly, making you hunch over in a laugh.

The two of you went about your evening like normal, watching some comedy movie that was on and cuddling together on the sofa. When it ended you went off to change into something more comfortable as you started off to finished the laundry.

You haven’t felt anything extremely out of the ordinary yet; remembering that the package said it might take long for women to feel the affects; but gojo on the other hand was feeling mildly uncomfortable.

His face and neck were feeling warm, throughout the entire movie his big hand was placed on your upper thigh, like always. What was unusual though, was how his skin tingled when he placed it on yours, palms sweating more than usual; he just chalked it up to all the junk he had been eating throughout the day, probably upsetting his body.

When you moved back into the kitchen and started on the dishes the two of you had created in the sink, Gojo couldn’t help but hyper focus on the fat off your ass peeking out of your night shorts.

The way you moved your hips as some r&b music played quietly from the tv. He watched your muscles and tendons move together when you twisted your body around, watching your ankles cross; one behind the other; getting comfortable from where you stood.

Satoru was feeling hot all over now, a large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants when you bent over to put the dishes into the washer, poking out your clothed mound towards him, the fabric of your shorts squeezing your curves just right.

His jaw dropped slightly, breathing heavier as he got off on watching you do such a mundane task like the dishes.

You inserted the pod into the dishwasher, completely oblivious to satoru’s shenanigans as you stood up straight. You noticed when washing your hands that you were starting to feel a warmth washing over your body, and a sort of warm coil tightening in your tummy.

The lightbulb went off in your head when you realized it was probably the work of the chocolates. You quickly shut off the water, towel is hand as you whipped your head behind you to tell gojo what was happening to you; and to inform him that you were going to win this challenge.

Your motions were stopped short as you bumped straight into gojos chest, “Oh! Didn’t realize you were-“ Your words getting cut off when gojo grabbed the bottom of your face, bringing your lips to his, and kissing you hungrily.

Gojo used his other had to slide his arm around your body, pressing you hard into him, letting you feel his erection against your tummy.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your words that tried to excape, “Sa-mm- Satoru-“ you got out between kisses. Gojo shoved his knee between your legs, putting delicious pressure on your cunt as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.

You had to grip his hair and pull his face off of you to speak, this didn’t really phase him as he targeted your neck instead, biting and sucking on the skin there, “Fuck- s-satoru slow down-“ you moaned when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Cant, need you-“ he spoke in between his rushed love bites on your neck, moving his big hands to hold your hips as he made you rock your cunt back and forth along this thigh.

Your head was spinning a mild a minute, still trying to wrap your head around the current situation. You expected this to happen; being on the side of ‘pro aphrodisiacs and all; you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and for it to have such a strong effect on someone like Satoru.

“S-shit- those chocolates have you m-more worked up than me,” you tried to laugh, voice cut short by a moan when his knee nudged your clit at a particularly mouthwatering angle.

“Need to be inside you,” he ignored you, groaning against your pulse point, hot breath tickling your neck when he spoke.

Gojo was breathing so heavily, his cock feeling like it was about to rip a hole in his pants at how hard he was. “Take em off, now-“ he whimpered, referring to your bottoms as he started pulling them down your legs, panties following suit.

You helped him, gripping his hair and keeping his lips pressed against your neck while you kicked off your shorts off from around your ankles . His hands dropped down to remove his own sweats, too impatient to fully take them off as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out, jerking himself off with one hand rapidly between you; hand holding your hip with his other.

“Let me put it in, please, need to be inside you now-“ he groaned, finally pulling back from your neck; and he looked absolutely wrecked.

This whole situation was giving you whiplash, but you felt bad for him. Satoru’s hands were shaking, face flushed completely crimson, and he was sweating and panting like he just ran a marathon.

He continued stroking his cock, eyes flirting between your pussy and your pretty lips while he waited for them to move, voicing your consent.

His cock was dripping so much pre it looked like he already came. Hard cock still dripping steadily onto his hand and fingers, making his strokes emit loud ‘plp’ sounds into the air.

“Yes, please, give it to me toru,” you spoke, making him let out a moan of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you suddenly, burring your hands in his hair and face in his neck as he slid his dick into you with zero prep, all at once.

You were greatful the aphrodisiac was in affect, making you so much wetter than normal, and in turn, making the stretch a whole less painful then it would’ve been without it.

You whined at how his massive clock split you in half effortlessly, “Sorry baby- m’ sorry-“ he apologized with a groan against your bruised neck; whatever consciousness he still had left being aware that that might’ve hurt you.

“Shit it’s o-okay toru, just give it to me- fuck-“ You tipped your head back, jaw dropping and releasing a loud whine, giving him more access to mark up your neck while he fucked into you like a mad man; legs dangling over his arms as he held you in his strong grasp, hoisting you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing to him.

“Holy fuckkk” he whined, vibrations going through your skin, “Need to fill you up, need to fuck you full of my cum s-shit-“ Gojo was working himself up with his words, already on the brink of his orgasm only a couple thrusts in.

He was truly using you like a cocksleve as he fucked into you at an inhumane pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass, strings of your combined wetness connecting to your ass each time he thrusted inside.

He sucked harder against your skin as he felt his first high rapidly approach him. His eyes repeatedly rolling back in his skull at the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy around him.

“Shitshitshit- gonna c-cum, need you to take it all f’me” his deep voice reverberated through you, all you could do is cry and moan our strings of his name and “yesyesyes” while he fucked his first load of the night into you.

“T-take it f-fucking take it yessss” Gojo felt like he was on cloud nine, he had never felt anything like this before. Of course he loved cumming inside you when you had sex but this was different. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to fuck load after load into you; to get you pregnant.

Gojo didn’t actually want kids right now, and you were on the pill so the possibility of him actually knocking you up was low- but not if his aphrodisiac brain had anything to say about it; he would make sure to fucking try.

Ignoring the overstimulation he felt as he humped his cum into you with heavy thrusts, quickly picking up his speed again when he finished spurting the warm ropes of cum into you, making you squeal at his quick recovery.

“Pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking wet sh-itttt” he groaned, dick twitching and abs clenching as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, sending him straight twords another one.

“T-toru o-oh my god-“ you wimpered, body flopping around limply at the intense pleasure. His cock was drilling straight into your sweet spot and making you dizzy. You tried not to pass out as he manhandled your body, gripping you roughly and marking up your skin everywhere his insatiable lips could reach.

“Gonna knock you up baby- g-gunna give you my babies- get you fucking pregnant, yeah? you want that?” you cut off his filthy mouth by using the grip you had on his head to press his mouth against yours.

“Yesyesyes, give me your babies toru- gonna make you a daddy-“ he groaned into your mouth at your mutual need for him to fill you up.

Gojo felt drunk hearing the nickname bounce around inside his head. Gojo never thought he had a daddy kink, but in this scenario? The nickname had him feeling like he was about to come again already.

By this point, the aphrodisiac was affecting you just as much as it was him, everywhere his body touched yours felt like your skin was on fire. You tried not to lose your sanity as he was pushing your towards your first orgasm without so much as even grazing your clit.

He set you down on the ground and in one swift movement spun you around so you were facing the counter. Satoru used his massive had to grab hold of his cock, slipping it back into your drenched walls.

You both groaned in unison at the sensation. Gojo gave you both a couple seconds to relish in the feeling, pressing his balls hard against your ass before he picked up his same ruthless pace as before.

“Good fucking girl- gonna look so fucking pretty with ur belly all round with my baby shiiit” he groaned when he felt your cunt clench around him at the idea.

He brought his massive palm down feeling your cunt squeeze him, leaving a heavy spank against your ass and gripping the fat between his fingers.

“Pussy tryna fuckin’ milk me down here” he laughed, biting his lip when he watched your hand come down to rub your clit in quick circles, “Yeaahhh fucking touch your pussy for me baby, make urself cum all over my dick while i fill you up.” he instructed, clenching his jaw.

“Shit- g-give it to me daddy- cum inside me-” you mindlessly babbled, there you go again with that fucking nickname that had his balls tightening.

You feet the coil wind itself up quicker than normal at your enhanced sexual arousal from the chocolate and the now added stimulation of touching your neglected clit.

“Come with me baby, gotta feel you cum around me- please” he begged, leaving another loud slap against your ass before pulling you back on his dick roughly by your hips.

“S -shit it’s coming it’s coming i’m- fuckfuck- ngghhh” your warned, voice cutting out as you started to come around his girth while he fucked you through it.

“yeeeeeess baby- fuuuuck- milk my fucking cock fuck-“ he watched intently as your little hole clenched around him, his first load spurting out around his cock with the pressure of your orgasm, making the white ring around the base of his dick get even messier.

“I’m coming again baby- take it for me- need you to take it all, gotta make sure it t-takes” he whined, getting you pregnant still on the forfront of his brain.

Your legs would’ve collapsed on the floor if he wasn’t holding up a majority of your weight by your hips. Your nails slid against the marble as his cock rammed against your cervix, making you dizzy, broken moans getting forced out of your mouth at the feeling of getting repeatedly impaled on his cock.

You tried to gain a little bit of brainpower back to help gojo through his orgasm just like he did for you, “y-e-sss toru’ cum inside me please- i’ll take it all- be a good girl for you-“ your voice squeaked out, words getting louder at the end with how rough his thrusts were,

He leaned over your back, pressing his sweaty chest onto you while he wrapped you in a tight bear hug, not ceasing his ruthless hips, “Need you t-to kiss me baby- go-nna be instense” he whimpered against your shoulder, waiting for you to turn your head twords him to give him access to your mouth.

When you did he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. The two of you swallowed each others moans as his pitch got higher and higher; his tight grip was sure to leave dark bruises on your body as he held onto you for dear life at his impending orgasm.

When the coil finally snapped, he shook violently against you, hips stilling against your ass, pressing his hips as deep as he could into you while hot ropes of cum filled you up even more than his last load, making more cum spill out around him at how full you already were.

His breath was hitching into your mouth, lips doing their best to kiss you back as his jaw kept falling open as the waves of his high washed over him.

He whined and dropped his head against your shoulder when he started to come down. Gojo panted heavily against your skin, twitching in the aftershocks of his high.

“D-don’t move please” he requested, fucking his softening cock into you a couple more times to make sure his cum was as deep inside you as it could go.

“Fuck toru- feel so full right now..” you wined into the marble, wincing in overstimulation at his final few weak thrusts.

After a couple seconds he finally pulled out his cock, gulping hard as he watched his cum start to dribble out of you; making you whine at the slightly uncomfortable feeling.

He used a couple fingers to spread your pussy lips; admiring his work for a second before he used to fingers to scoop his cum back up, stuffing his thick digits back inside of you, “Gotta get that plug of yours to keep it all in,” he said, biting his lip at how soft you felt around his fingers.

“Or you could let me cockwarm you,” you giggled, turning your head back to look at him while he looked enthralled with your cunt.

“God I love you, smartest fucking girl I know.” he praised.

You fell into a fit of giggles when he scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses onto your face while he headed twords your shared bedroom.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist while he walked, keeping them snug even when he dropped the two of you on the mattress together. Gojo’s large frame laying on top of you as he reached his hand down between you to slide his semi-hard cock back into your oversensitive walls, making you hiss at the feeling, “Sorry baby- almost in,” he promised, kissing your cheeks while he fully bottomed out.

He rolled his eyes at how warm and soft you felt around his dick, sucking soft hickeys into the crook of your neck while you pet his damp hair.

“I’ll clean you up in a second my love, promise, you just feel too good right now.” he let out a short laugh against you.

“‘S okay toru, makes me feel good too.” you tipped your head forward and pressed kisses onto the top of his scalp.

“We gotta be careful with those chocolates,” he laughed, “Might acctually knock you up one day if we keep eatin those,”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you confessed, squeezing your legs harder around his hips.

“Dangerous words to say right now pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin,

“Oh right, guess you won the bet,” he remembered, “Whacha want ur big strong boyfriend to do for you?” he asked teasingly,

“Cum inside me again, right now,” you requested after a beat, emphasizing your need by squeezing your pussy walls around him, making him inhale a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Fuck… you serious?” he smirked, lifting his head to look at you.

“Don’t keep me waiting, give me my prize toru,” you pouted your bottom lip at him, making his brain short circuit as he felt his cock twitch back to life.

You ended up taking a plan B the next morning… just in case…

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

[chososprettyprincess]

» synopsis - ⟡⋆˙ choso who turns into a MESS once you start sucking on his sack.

» contents - ⟡⋆˙ choso being a pillow humper, oral (choso receiving), you both call each other baby, male masturbation, cock slapping, ball slapping/sucking/worship..? (idk!), dominant reader x sub!choso, CHOSO BEING A SWEETHEART.

» warnings - ⟡⋆˙ sexual themes.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ⟡ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

choso who CANNOT control his boner especially when you are around.

you were in the kitchen finishing up the cupcakes for you and your boyfriend for movie night.

you went upset to go get him but yours ears are filled with this wet noise. shlick.. shlick.. shlick.. Being curious you walk in and are shocked by what you see.

choso laying on his back on the bed with his boxers on the ground. his plain white tee in his mouth while he holds a pillow humping his leaky, veiny, needy cock.

you gasp but aren’t disgusted by the sight as he looks up. “y/n… please, it won’t go down..” he pouted with those puppy-like eyes. “i tried a cold shower but it’s so.. nghh..” he moaned when his cock twitched a bit and a glob of pre-cum came out.

“baby.. i’ll help you, of course.. but please put the pillow down, those covers were expensive.” you said half serious and half teasingly as redness filled his face as he quickly did.

you laid down on your stomach as your soft, delicate hand wrapped around the base of his cock teasing him with your grip as his hips jerked up a bit. “oh… babyy..” he whined “don’t tease me please..” he said ss his hips involuntarily bucked up again.

you gave his tip kitten licks before taking him completely down your throat as he let out a deep, sensual moan. “it’s so warmmm.” he moaned and gently held your hair back as you gently massaged his twitchy, full and heavy balls as you DEVOURED his dick.

you pulled again and gave slaps to his cock as his eyes rolled back. “you’ve been such a good boy lately.. but going upstairs and trying to rub one out without me..?” you calmly stated as he frowned. “i didn’t want to bother you…” you rolled your eyes. “you never bother me baby.” you said continuing.

you paused and pulled away again. when a bit of drool dripped down from his cock onto his balls, even more pre-cum came out as he let out a shaky exhale. that gave you an idea.

you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked on it as his jaw went slack, drool pooling out his mouth. his cock as his cock twitched and moved back and forth by itself.

you showed attention to the other as pre-cum was leaking out of him like a fountain. it wasn’t surprising though, choso never really experienced certain pleasures. also, his balls looked painfully full of baby batter.

his eyes were crossed, his hips kept bucking up, his toes were curling so hard that they cracked as you continued slurping and sucking on his balls.

you trailed your hand up to his tip and gently rubbed it before he moaned before you pulled away from his balls then devoured his cock again, slurping and gagging as drool went down your chin.

“baby, baby, baby, ohmy-” he whined as he threw his hand back and just started babbling how well you treated him and how much he loves you.

you slapped his balls and he jerked his whole body as he climaxed hard into your mouth, his whole body trembling as his cum was warm, and bit bitter and so fucking much.

he pulled your head off him looking worried, “baby don’t swallow.. you don’t have to, spit it out” you shook your head as he just sighed as you swallowed it before licking the vein on his cock one more time.

he let out a loud whimper as the overstimulation hit him as his half lidded eyes crossed before he calmly picked you up with ease, switching positions with you. “my turn” he said laying his head between your thighs.

[rayne-astrophile]

i think i'm getting into another fandom :"D

Mashle x Reader Headcanons

When they were sick for the first time after getting into a relationship with you

Mash

Bro doesn't realise that he's sick

You have been pointing it out since morning, but he doesn't want to listen

He rarely gets sick, after all

So when he finally accepts the fact that he's actually sick, you help him get into bed

Nothing much happens, he's obedient

Until you give him medicine

He throws up after eating a pill

"T-Too bitter...."

You have to mix the medicine with the cream puff

At first, he'll be like "???" because the cream puff tastes like the medicine he threw up

But he finishes anyway, because it's the cream puff you made for him

After that, you give him another one to make up for that trick cuz you feel bad

He'll ask you to cuddle with him in his bed

He's a large teddy bear

The next day, he's already well, but you get sick because of the cuddle from last night

He'll ask Lance to help him take care of you ❤️

Lance

This man refuses to accept the fact that he's sick

"I'm not sick, I never get sick, I can't get sick because Anna needs me-"

"Anna will be upset if you don't take care of yourself."

And on the bed he goes

Nothing much to do, he can take medicine well

But he can't take it when you want to feed him porridge that you cook for him

"Stop, I'm not a child!"

"C'mon, this is the only time I can be romantic with you!"

After an argument that you barely win, you get to feed him

His cheeks are red when you reach out a spoonful of porridge, but the delightful smile on your face makes him eat anyway

It's true, both of you never have romantic moments together

He always focuses on healing Anna, and you respect that

You don't complain at all, and he's definitely grateful for that

For not leaving him because he puts his priority on someone else instead of you

Welcome to reality guys, family matters more than lover

That's why he doesn't mind it when you stay with him the whole day

This moment is the only time he spends with you, with you alone

Before, whenever he gets sick, he's always by himself

So when he has you, he's so grateful

For your love and patience for him

The next day, everything went back to normal

Both of you will act like usual, like friends do instead of lovers

Except for the fact that he always stands by your side instead of being beside Mash, Dot or Finn

It's a small change, you barely noticed it but you do anyway

And that just makes you love him more ❤️

Rayne

He knows that he's sick

The moment he wakes up, he knows there is something wrong with him and figures that he has a fever

But man doesn't care

He has a job, and he doesn't care about himself

But he has you, and you care for him

At first, you don't notice it

But when your hand accidentally brushes his, you can feel that he's burning

But he's quick to deny it

"Rayne! You're sick-"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You force him to rest, but you know how he is

You give up and ask Wahlberg to give Rayne a one-day break, and he immediately agrees

He knows that lad needs rest too

So you come to Rayne, the wide grin on your face makes him furrow his eyebrows

"I asked Wahlberg-san to give you a one-day break. So let's rest!"

He sighs

"You're truly a stubborn one, aren't you?"

"You are, too!"

But he knows, that is one of the reasons why he falls in love with you

He lets you take him back to his dorm and tuck him to bed

You tend his needs; food, medicine and check his temperature from time to time

You never leave his side, and he doesn't complain

When the class time comes, he lets you go. He thinks he's not important enough for you to skip classes, so he tells you to go to class

You did go to class anyway, because you know he won't be a brat and get off the bed until you're back

After the class session, you go back to his dorm to check on him

When you arrive, he's sleeping

He looks so cute in his bunny blanket

You try to not make a sound, but when you touch his forehead to check on his temperature, his eyes snap open, startling you

He immediately sits up despite your protest

"I made some notes for you. You can catch up with the syllabus later, but you need to rest now."

He's grateful that he chooses you to be his partner

You make him a porridge and he lets you feed him without a word

This makes you happy, because you never have such moments with him

Rayne is a busy man. He never really has time for you, but you understand

So you treasure this moment so much

After feeding him, you tuck him back to bed and put a damp towel on his forehead to ease the temperature

When you think that he's sleeping, you play with his hair while sitting beside the bed happily

Little did you know, he's awake all along

He likes it when you play with his hair. It's soothing

When the night comes, you ask his roommate to switch with you for a night

At first, Rayne says that it is unnecessary, but you are his girlfriend, you have the right to be worried

You sit on a chair beside the bed, telling him about your day

He listens of course. This is the only moment he can spend his time with you, after all

Then, when you're getting sleepy, you rest your head on your palm as your elbow rests on the bed as you talk to him

He notices that you are getting sleepy

"Come, get on the bed." He offers

You had done everything for him today

You tend his needs, go to class, and stay by his side without break

He doesn't even know if you take your meal or not

So sharing a bed with you is the least he can do

At first, you refuse because you don't want him to be uncomfortable

But when he insists, you happily agree

You would take as small space as you could on the bed as you're still worried that he might get uncomfortable

But then he grabs your hand and pulls you into his embrace, shocking you

"Rayne...?"

He rests your head on his chest as his warmth engulfs you

"Don't talk. Just sleep,"

You try to raise your head to look at him, but he pushes your head back against his chest

But you can hear his heart beating fast

"....I'm sorry I can't spend time with you." You hear him mutter. "I can't give you attention like any other boyfriend does. I can't even spare a glance at you some days. Yet you're still here for me," You can't help but feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in his voice. You take his hand from your head and hold in yours as you raise your head to look at him. "I told you I love you, didn't I?" You smile softly at him. "It doesn't matter if you don't have time for me or if you can't give attention to me. I choose to love you." He can feel his heart skip a beat as you grin. "And you can't stop me from loving you, you should know that."

He shoves your face back to his chest as you let out a muffled 'oof'

You can hear his heart beating faster, making you smile

Oh, how you love this man

You wrap your arms around him and giggle

"I guess I need to wait until you get sick again to get your affection like this,"

"Oh, shut up."

I just love this man so much

[prettyfastcars]

Darkest little paradise | Mob!Lewis

Summary: You and Lewis are childhood best friends. You know him better than anyone, and you’re one of the few people he actually trusts fully. But Lewis has been keeping secrets from you. And when you find out exactly what he's been hiding, nothing is ever the same again. 

Themes: mob!lewis, angst, smut, possessive!lewis, virgin!reader, fluff, slight degrading kink, explicit language, slightly dark!mob!lewis, friends to enemies to lovers ish

Out of all places, he didn’t expect to find you out on your balcony drinking by yourself. 

Lewis had received a phone call from your very worried father earlier, the latter told him that you weren’t picking up any calls, and asked him to check on you to see what was wrong. Your parents were travelling and they were worried about you being alone when they suspected that you were upset. 

Lewis was confused as to why you didn’t reach out to him if you were really upset. Usually you texted him regarding every minor happening throughout the day. 

“Hey, princess,” He called out gently, stepping out onto the penthouse balcony to join you. “Your dad called me, he wanted me to see how you were doing. Everything… alright?”  

Dumb question, he knew. Of course nothing was alright if you were out here drinking alone. You looked like you had been crying too. Puffy red eyes, dried tears on your cheek. It was night time, and the city sparkled below like a shimmery tapestry. Yet you looked devastated, like you couldn’t even bring yourself to admire the citylights. 

The moment you looked up and met Lewis’ eyes, you felt like running into his arms and crying again. Lewis had always been your safe place. You two grew up together. Your families had been friends for decades. Your father and Lewis did business together, both of them powerful, feared, and respected in this city. But to you he was just your best friend. He was there right beside you for everything; school, high school, uni, graduation, vacations, all your good days and bad days, everything. 

But you knew you would feel dizzy if you got up so you remained seated on the lounge chair, sipping on more wine. You were one and a half bottles down. 

When you remained quiet, Lewis walked up to you and stood by the chair just watching you. He could tell you were a bit drunk, but the bottles of wine weren’t his main concern. 

He was more bothered by what you were wearing. 

Your families had been on enough vacations around the world for Lewis to have seen you in all sorts of swimwear. But right now, as you were dressed in nothing but dark red, lacy, see-through lingerie, it felt risqué and intimate. Thankfully you had a satin robe on, though it didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was driving Lewis insane. He had to clench his fists and take a deep breath in order to get his brain to function properly, and not be distracted by the amount of skin that you were showing. 

Did someone, other than him, see you like this? 

“Why are you dressed like that?” He tried his best to keep his displeasure hidden, but if you had been sober enough you would’ve surely caught the bitterness and jealousy in his voice. 

You looked up at him, and sighed. Everything seemed blurry in your drunken state. 

“You look so handsome,” You murmured, then chuckled humorlessly. “Were you out doing scary things while looking insanely good again?” You teased, and sipped on your wine again. He did look good, then again he always did. But right now, dressed in an all black suit, his braids tied into a low ponytail, his chains and rings… “Your nose stud looks extra sparkly tonight.” You commented, hiccuping after. 

Lewis let out a sigh, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why are you dressed like that? And why are you drinking alone? Did something happen?” He asked. 

That made you tear up again as his questions allowed the hurt to come flooding back in again. After a few seconds of silence, you answered, “I had a date tonight.” 

“What?” Lewis’ blood pumped faster than ever. 

You repeated, sounding more upset than earlier and on the verge of crying. “I had a date tonight.” 

He waited for you to give him more details, unsure of what to say. 

You continued, beginning to slur a little. “We were gonna have a cute date night. I made dinner, I got all dressed up,” You went to take another sip of wine but Lewis snatched your glass from you, and the look in his eyes told you that you weren’t getting that glass back. You sighed and resumed talking, “But he didn’t show up. I texted him, I called, I waited for an hour. Then his text came and he said he doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship and what not.” 

“Well, at least he didn’t waste your time.” He said, trying to sound supportive. “If he didn’t like you, then–,” 

You cut him off, “I don’t care about being liked. I wanted him to fuck me.” 

Lewis froze again. His hand around the wine glass tightened to a point where he thought it might shatter but it didn’t. “Is that why you’re wearing that?” 

You rolled your eyes at him dramatically, “What do you think, Lew?” 

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know how to react to that. The two of you had been close all these years, but this was new territory. “Let’s get inside.” He said, already walking away expecting you to follow him. 

But you didn’t move. 

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, making Lewis stop and turn around to face you again. Once you met his eyes again, you asked, “Why does this always happen to me?” You sniffled, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks. “Am I not pretty enough?” 

Lewis sighed and walked over to where you sat. He placed the wine glass down and grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up. He kept an arm around you because he knew you’d be dizzy. “Who said you’re not pretty, princess?” 

You looked at him with teary eyes. “Then why doesn’t anyone want me?” 

He pulled you closer, looking at you with soft eyes. “Maybe he’s an idiot. Maybe he’s–,”

“But it’s not just him.” You sniffled, followed by a sob. “Everyone I’ve ever dated, they…” You hiccuped, “No one ever wants me. Everything feels great on the first dates, but then something always happens and they just… leave. Most of them never even tell me why, they just ghost me.” 

Lewis kept his poker face on as you wrapped your arms around him, finally feeling safe enough in his arms to cry your heart out. You sobbed, not worried about how your nearly naked body pressed up against him. You didn’t know you were driving him mad. 

“I just wanna feel wanted. And desired.” You cried on his shoulder, and he hugged you until your sobs fading into soft sniffles. “I want to experience things too, I deserve it, don’t I?” Lewis’ arms were warm around you, and that was all you needed. “I just wanna feel pretty.” 

“But you are pretty.” Lewis said, his voice soft and quiet. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.” 

You were quiet for a few moments, then said, “But even you don’t want me.” 

Lewis froze for a moment, then pulled away quickly, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “What’s gotten into you?” 

More tears fell down your face silently, Lewis wiped them away. This was way different than all the times he comforted you. There was a line you were both crossing here and you both knew that. 

“If we weren’t best friends, and if I’d let you–” 

“You’re drunk.” Lewis cut you off. 

But you continued, sniffling. “Would you? Would you want me, Lew? Am I pretty enough for you?” Before Lewis could answer, you grabbed his hand and guided it over to your chest. Another fell down your cheek. 

“Stop.” Lewis warned. 

“Please…” You whispered, placing his hand over the lacy material covering your breast. The warmth of his hand made you shiver. “I’d let you do anything.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. 

Lewis fought himself to remain in control. He could feel your racing heartbeats, your warmth and the softness of your skin. You were upset and hurting, and if he did anything, it would be wrong because clearly you weren’t thinking straight. 

One moment he was looking at you like he was in pain, and the next he pulled his hand away from your chest and wrapped it around your throat instead, making your eyes widen at the sudden rough movement. 

“Stop saying shit like that.” He hissed, in a lowered voice he had never used on you before. He tightened his grip around your neck just enough to have your full attention. “Now get inside, take this fucking outfit off of you and get some sleep.” His dark brown eyes stared into yours. “Stop acting like a needy brat, and do as I say.” 

With that he let go of you, pushing you away carefully. You wiped your tears and basically ran inside your penthouse. 

Lewis stayed out on the spacious balcony for a while longer, mainly to calm himself down but also waiting for his throbbing erection to calm down as well. Fuck. He wasn’t expecting that. 

After a while, Lewis walked back into your penthouse. He went straight into your bedroom and found you sulking in bed. Thank fuck you were not wearing that flimsy lacy thing anymore. It looked like you had had a shower as well. 

He grabbed a cold water bottle from your mini fridge and brought it over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed as he handed it to you after taking the cap off. You accepted it quietly and took a few sips. 

He noticed you were avoiding his eyes. “Talk to me.” He said. He hated it whenever you two fought or argued, which you very rarely did. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally whispered, “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I know. You don’t have to apologise.” He stood up, and said, “Look, I have to fly somewhere for work. I’ll see you back at your father’s house in a few days, okay?” 

Every fortnight Lewis and your dad got together to discuss business, and your families used that as an excuse for a get together each time. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes. 

“Hey,” Lewis bent down and tapped you on the nose playfully. “Don’t worry too much. Get some sleep, you need it.” 

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and didn’t leave until you gave him a faint smile back. 

—

Lewis couldn’t get that night out of his head. He was being plagued with what ifs. What if he had taken your offer? What if you two had slept together? Would you have woken up and regretted it? What would have happened if you found out that he was responsible for scaring away every man who ever tried to date you? Would you hate him? Would he lose you? 

No. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend. All he ever wanted was to keep you away from assholes who could never treat you right. One of those assholes being that guy who turned you down that night he found you drinking on the balcony. Lewis was the reason behind that text the guy sent you. 

He hated it, indirectly being the reason behind why you were upset after each failed relationship. 

Which is why he swore to never let you know what he did behind your back each time a man showed even the slightest bit of interest in you. He would never let you know how he stalked them. How he found every dirty secret about them and held it over their heads. How he often had to get physical and anonymously beat them up. How he followed and kept an eye on you from a distance each time you went on a date. 

But he couldn’t tell you the truth, could he? He couldn’t tell you that he was the one who threatened every boyfriend you’d ever had. He could tell you that he told them if they touched you, he would kill them. He couldn’t tell you that he had been doing that since you had your first boyfriend in high school. 

He had lost count of how many times he’d followed the men home and held his gun to their heads until they deleted your number and promised to leave the city. He hated that you got hurt in the process, each time. But this was necessary, wasn’t it? 

After all, you were his. Why should anyone else have you? 

He had waited his entire life for you to see him in that way. For you to realise that he was right there, and that he could treat you right. What sucked the most was that the first time you ever showed interest in him in that way, that night on the balcony, you were not sober at all. Lewis felt like an afterthought. And he hated it. 

But he was a patient man. He had waited years, and he would wait some more if that’s what it took for you to see him in that light. 

—

Your families, as per usual, got together at your father’s mansion for your biweekly lunch. Lunch and business talk were just excuses anyway. All of you just used the time to catch up, cook together, lounge by the pool, play games. And it always, always ended up becoming like a weekend getaway for everyone. 

Lewis looked forward to it, as he always did. Not to discuss business with your father but just to see you. When you were kids you two used to never sleep during these weekends. You’d build forts, and get lost in the hedge maze and play by the pool for hours. As you got older, playtime turned into movie nights. 

But this weekend, something was different. 

“Hi dad, hey Lewis!” You called out, looking happier than usual. Which Lewis found weird because less than a week ago you were drinking alone on your balcony, nursing a broken heart. 

Both men looked up at you, replying to your greeting from where they were sitting in your father’s office. But you breezed past them, disappearing down the hallway faster than Lewis could ask what had you in such a good mood. You were almost skipping. 

He made a mental note to ask you about it over lunch later. 

But he never got to do that since you were completely engrossed in your phone at the lunch table. And everyone kept talking to him and he had to reply to them mindlessly all while his entire attention was on you. Especially since you kept smiling down at your phone. 

A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind. And he hated every single one that had to do with you being involved with another man. He decided he’d confront you about it later. 

–

By the time Lewis managed to get to alone to talk to you, it was already night time. He’d missed dinner because he had important phone calls to take. And by the time he returned back to the dining room, everyone was drunk and you had already left. 

So here he was now, waiting for you in your bedroom. When you were younger, Lewis used to make fun of you for having an all pink room. After all, your father’s mansion was a behemoth, Georgian style mansion, complete with luxurious dark interior, all except your girly pink room. 

So then one day you got tired of his teasing and demanded an all black and gold room. You were fifteen then, and now many years later, the room hadn’t changed one bit. 

Lewis was looking around, noticing everything that hadn’t changed in many years, when you walked in. Still with that big smile on your face. 

“Oh hey Lew, ready for movie night?” You closed the door behind you and began dimming the lights, already searching for the TV remote. “Should we watch a musical?”

Meanwhile Lewis was standing there, in the middle of your room, looking all confused. Finally he asked, “What is going on with you?”

You kept lifting the cushions on the sofas, looking under them to find the remote as you mindlessly asked, “What do you mean?” 

“Stop.” He called out, wanting your attention. “Look at me!” 

That tone of his made you stop. This was the second time he’d used that voice on you now. The first time was that night he found you drinking alone. 

You turned to face him. You were used to this, him standing in your childhood bedroom, wearing nothing but his usual sweatpants, braids untied. Lewis had always been handsome, yet right now as he looked at you with a strange anger in his eyes, you couldn’t focus on anything else. 

“What is it?” You asked, leaning against the sofa for support as Lewis’ eyes stared deep into your soul. He was your best friend, but you had seen the way he worked. You knew why he was so feared and respected. Lewis could be intense sometimes. 

“You just seem…,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Happy. All of a sudden. I mean, I found you heartbroken on your balcony just a few days ago and now you’re basically skipping with joy all over the place.” He said it like it was the most odd thing he’d ever seen. 

“Oh Lewis,” You chuckled. “Maybe I am happy.” You said, moving away from the sofa and stepping closer to him. “I wasn’t gonna sit and let a man decide if he wanted me or not. I thought maybe I should take matters into my own hands and, you know, get out and find what I want on my own.” 

Lewis frowned. “What does that mean?” His heart began racing again. He’d been away these last few days, and he was just now realising that you had barely texted him at all. 

You avoided his eyes with a coy smile and said, “My girlfriends and I went clubbing the other night,” You looked up at him with a mischievous smirk, “And there was this guy, and he seemed really nice, and…” You trailed off, smirking some more, “Well, you know, we kind of hooked up in his car and–,” 

One moment you were talking, and the next Lewis had you pinned to the nearest wall. His tattooed hand wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place as he leaned in with a murderous look in his eyes. 

“Who the fuck touched you?” He whispered, looking like he was trying really hard to keep his anger contained. “Just give me a name, and I swear I will–,” 

“So it was you.” You cut him off this time, your voice shaky and your eyes beginning to tear up. 

Lewis frowned. 

“This whole time, you’re the one making decisions about my life.” You watched how his face fell when he realised that you figured it out. “You had no right, Lewis.” 

“Yes I did.” He argued, leaning closer. “Now tell me who the fuck touched you?” 

You hated him at that moment. But his scent was familiar, his touch was warm as always. He was still that person who held you each time you crumbled down. He was still your best friend, but you were angry. 

“No one did. I had a theory, I wanted to see if it was true so I lied.” You sighed. “I never went clubbing, I didn’t hook up with anyone.” You explain. “ You know, I always wondered why you never seemed bothered like a true friend would each time I came crying to you about how I got stood up, ignored, or ghosted.” You scoffed, “Turns out it was you who hurt me each time.” You accused. “Why couldn’t you let me be with who I wanted?” 

“No one was ever good enough for you.” He whispered, his face just inches away from yours. 

“That’s not for you to decide, Lewis!” You sniffled, then raised your voice. “I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want to be. I can sleep with whoever I want to–,” 

“No.” He said calmly, like he was stating facts. “You’re mine. They don’t get to touch you.” 

You struggled against him, and he loosened his grip around your neck a little but pressed his body against yours, keeping you trapped between himself and your bedroom wall. “I thought you cared.” You whispered. “Thought you wanted me to be happy.” 

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours, his other hand holding you at your waist. “You will be happy. You’ll be the happiest girl in this world.” He added, gently. “With me.” 

The audacity in his voice pissed you off. You shoved at his chest, managing to only push him an inch or two away. You forgot just how physically strong he was, but you were too angry to care. 

“I decide who I want to be happy with!” You yelled at his face. The mansion was big enough that no one else would hear you two arguing. “You don’t own me like you think you do!” 

Lewis chuckled, in that arrogant way of his, with his nose in the air. “You are mine.” 

“Why? Because you think so?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “What did you do to them anyway? Scare them off? Use them as punching bags? Throw them in your torture dungeons that I pretend don’t exist?” You never thought you’d ever say these words to him, but you didn’t care. He crossed a line. 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe I did worse things, I had to get rid of so many boys I had to get creative.” Lewis gave you a dangerous smile, “You know I would do anything for you.” 

Those words, that voice, it sent shivers down your spine. “Lewis.” You warned, your brain seemed to just realise that this man was more than just your best friend. He was, after all, known for his ruthless ways. 

He smirked, stepping closer to you again. One hand on your waist, the other grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His bare chest pressing against yours, only separated by the thin material of your PJ top. Your breathing got shaky, your brain got foggy. There was an unfamiliar tension in the air this time. It felt tangible the moment he easily shoved his thigh in between your legs. 

“What is it, princess? Now you’re scared of me?” He sounded cocky, and powerful. 

You stared into his big brown eyes. “I hate you.” You said, lying to his face. His handsome face. Flawless, like the rest of him. 

“Why?” Lewis smirked, “Because I kept assholes who would waste your time away from you? I’d say I did my duty as your friend. Isn’t that what friends do? Protect each other? Hmm?” 

You hated how he talked to you in that condescending tone. Mostly you hated how that tone made your body tingle. “I’ll tell my dad what you did.” You realised that only made you sound naïve. 

Lewis chuckled, “He’ll just think you’re throwing one of your bratty fits.” 

“I hate you, Lewis.” You repeated. 

“Oh you do?” He raised an eyebrow at you, mocking you. “I’ll believe you when you stop humping my thigh like that.” 

Your face burned when you realised that you’d been grinding on his thigh without thinking ever since he shoved it in between your legs. You froze and tried to push him away again but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Where are you going?” He said as you struggled against him. “What about this?” He pointed at the damp patch you left behind on his thigh. Your face burned even more as you looked at it. “Won’t you let me take care of that for you? Clearly your pussy is crying for attention.” 

“I don’t want you to touch me.” You didn’t sound convincing at all when you said it. 

That look in his eyes, his soft lips, the familiar scent of his, all that golden skin on display, the tattooed, rough hand holding your face… he was making it hard for you to think straight. And he knew. Judging by that smug look on his face, you could tell he knew. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “I remember perfectly well how just a couple of nights ago you almost begged me to fuck you.” He teased, “You even said you’d let me do anything to you.” He chuckled dangerously, like a villain. “Bet you would’ve even gotten on your knees and begged for me properly if I asked you to. You were that desperate for some cock in you. Do you remember that, princess?” 

His words made you breathless. On one hand he had crossed some boundaries, on the other he was giving you exactly what you craved, making you feel wanted and desired in his own dark, twisted ways. 

When he pressed his body against yours even more, you could feel something hard pressing against your abdomen. You gasped, looking into his eyes which were filled with a kind of hunger you had never seen before. It made you want to clench your thighs together, but with his legs in between yours, you couldn’t. 

“You feel that?” He rolled his hips in a way that made you very aware of his erection. “This is what I had to deal with for years whenever I was around you, always hoping and waiting you’d see that we belong together.” He confessed. 

“Lewis…” You couldn’t recognise your voice, it was so full of desire and need. But then you remembered what he did, and it felt like you sobered up and broke out of whatever trance he had you under. “You hurt me. For years.” 

“I did it for your own good,” He stated. “For us, can’t you see that?” 

“What you did was selfish.” You hissed, you placed your hands on his chest to push him away but the warmth of his skin made you pause. You could feel his heartbeats under your palms and just for a moment, you let your hands wander. Trailing up and down his toned abs, fingers tracing his tattoos. “It was mean,” You whispered bitterly, “Friends don’t treat each other like that.” Your actions didn’t match the way you reprimanded him. 

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat. 

“Neither do I.” You retorted. “Not after this bullshit of yours.” 

“You don’t get to push me away like that.” He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you even harder against him. 

You snapped, “You don’t get to make decisions about my life.” 

You opened your mouth to berate him some more, but he shut you up by pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you rough and hard like he hated you. 

You couldn’t control your hands anymore, you wanted to touch him and feel his warm, muscular body under your fingertips. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his hands slipped under your shirt, sliding up till he cupped your breasts, squeezing them in his large hands until you moaned even louder. 

His touch made you wild, enough for you to bite on his full lower lip until he hissed. Your hands sliding up and down his muscular chest, feeling every hard muscle. Fuck. He felt good. 

Flashes of that night filled your brain again, how you begged him to fuck you. And how he didn’t. A rush of anger took over you. 

“Why do you have to be so fucking moody?” You whispered against his mouth, as you pulled away to catch your breath. “If this is all you wanted then why didn’t you fuck me when I asked you to?” 

He smirked at the sudden dominance in your voice. “You mean when you begged me to?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You snarled. 

Your words made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his pretty, warm brown eyes. How had you missed the way he looked at you all these years? 

“Oh? You’re using your big girl words now.” He taunted, mocking you with that smug smirk of his. “Admit it, you’re angry and you still want me to fuck you.”  

You were about to sass back at him but he grabbed your hand, moving it down his body, mimicking how you made him touch you that night. Lewis made you slide your hand past the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly, holding your stare as he had you wrap your hand around his erected cock. 

You breathed heavily now, lips parted as you looked up at him while instinctively giving him a gentle squeeze. He frowned and groaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever, “Fuck, princess…” 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost forgive all his wrongs right there and then. Lewis let out some more strained moans when you slowly slid your closed fist up and down his cock, feeling it throb and twitch in your hand. You watched his face carefully. How he clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes, how his frown deepened when you explored and teased him with your hand. 

“Lewis…” You didn’t realise you were panting in need as you touched him. 

He opened his eyes and stared into yours. His hand wrapped around your neck again, hard enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Tell me you want me,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing along your jaw occasionally. “Beg me to fuck you like you did that night.” 

“I begged.” You chuckled this time, squeezing your hand around his cock again, enjoying the sounds he made. “You had the chance, and you didn’t fucking take it. Now, what if I don’t want you anymore?” 

Lewis scoffed and placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like he was hungry for it, biting your already swollen mouth. “Is that so? Shall we check, then?” 

He barely gave you time to think before he dipped his hands down your shorts, into your underwear until he felt the wetness gathering in between your legs. You shivered, moaning into the messy kiss as he moved his fingers around. 

He smirked, pulling away to look at you, holding your stare while his fingers gently inspected your wetness, teasing you, bringing you on the verge of begging for more. “That doesn’t feel like you don’t want me, princess.” 

You hated that mocking tone of his. It made you want to scratch at him like a feral cat. “Fuck you.” You hissed, unable to do much now that his finger threatened to slide deep inside you with how he kept toying with you. 

“Alright,” He pulled his hand away, “Come here then.” 

Lewis pulled you away from the wall and easily pushed you down on your bed, standing at the end of the bed to watch you for a moment. You watched him too. He looked like a fucking god. A muscular, heavily tattooed, handsome god. 

You almost gulped when you noticed he was eyeing you like you were the sacrifice left on his altar. Like he was ready to satiate his hunger. 

“You’re just gonna stare?” You couldn’t help the bratty words from leaving your mouth. Mainly because you knew that would get him moving. Having him just standing there watching you like that was painful because you wanted him so bad. 

Lewis crawled on top of you, grabbed you by the neck and said, “If you want my cock, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?” 

You glared at him, “I fucking hate how bossy you are.” You spat at him, already squirming under him. 

“And I hate how bratty you are.” He said, straddling your waist as he tore your shirt off your body, throwing it behind him. 

With no bra on, you instinctively went to hide your body from him. But Lewis grabbed your hands and pinned it above your head, securing your wrists in his one hand while the other cupped your breast. 

“You don’t have to hide from me, princess.” He whispered, kissing along your exposed neck. “It’s just me.” He playfully nipped at your neck and you moaned and squirmed under him, your brain already malfunctioning at his brief touch. 

“Don’t think that I’ve…” You gasped when he kissed around your ear, “forgiven you.” You whispered, breathless already, with shivers dancing down your spine. 

“Really?” He whispered, kissing his way down your body until he took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. He bit, and sucked on your skin, making your back arch off the bed as you whined in pleasure. “Haven’t you?” 

Your hips moved on their own, in a way they never had before. You were desperate for more, but were too proud to ask for it. Lewis lightly grazed your nipple with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan. One which made you want to hide your face in embarrassment after it escaped your mouth. 

“No, and I never will…” You muttered under your breath, still whining in pleasure as he played with your body. 

Lewis smirked as his hand reached down in between your legs. He lowered your shorts and underwear until you could easily slide your legs out of them. Your desperation was showing and he couldn’t stop smirking. 

You wanted to slap it off his pretty face. But you didn’t. You watched how he spread your trembling legs apart and settled in between them. You gasped in surprise when he lowered his face down until his mouth was inches away from your clit. 

This was new to you, and it made you a little nervous. 

He could tell. 

“Keep your legs right there for me.” He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more. “Now stay still, don’t move.” He whispered against your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. His warm breath caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. He looked up at you and smirked when he noticed it. 

You held yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him in anticipation. 

“No one else is gonna touch you like this, you hear me?” He leaned down, kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. 

You shivered as you felt his tongue stroking your most sensitive parts. No one had ever even gotten close to touching you there. Lewis made damned sure of that after all. All so he could have all of you. 

“You taste better than I imagined…” Lewis chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” 

He wrapped his big arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your legs, making you whine as he tasted you. 

“Oh fuck, please…” You cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Beg for it.” He whispered against your wet skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “Beg me to make you come.” 

You could feel your wetness trickling out of you, one drop at a time. Of course you had masturbated before but it never felt this good. No toy ever came close to how good his tongue felt slowly fucking in and out of you. 

You tried to grind on his face to make yourself come. But Lewis pulled away smirking each time. 

“Please,” You whined, giving in finally and unable to take his sweet torture anymore. “Lewis…” You pleaded, “Please make me come.” You could feel your legs shaking under his touch. “Please…” 

He almost wanted to tease you for a bit longer, but even he was getting impatient and wanted to fuck you as soon as he could. So he wrapped his arms around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, fucking you with his soft, warm tongue until you were crying out loud, coming all over his mouth. 

You were gasping for air, your body squirming under him as you came. 

“You did so good, princess.” Lewis kissed his way up your body again until he pressed his mouth back on yours, kissing you just as hungrily as before. His braids tickled your face but nothing else had your attention in that moment. Not when his hands rubbed up and down your sides. Not when he lowered down just enough for you to feel his body weight, and feel his clothed erection right in between your legs. 

You had never been this intimate with anyone before, and just feeling his warm skin rubbing against yours had your mind going crazy. You moaned into his mouth, breathless from his kiss as his hand lowered his sweatpants just enough to free his erected cock again. 

You couldn’t help but whine as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit. You squirmed under him, seeking more of that feeling. 

Lewis pulled away from the messy kiss and looked down at you, supporting himself above you on one elbow. You had never seen him from this angle before. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, because as angry as you were deep down, he was still your best friend. Still your favourite person in the whole world. 

And yet, he had been secretly hurting you thinking he was doing you good all these years. You couldn’t help the tears that fell down on either side of your face as you gently ran a finger across his perfect eyebrow. Damn him. Everything about him was perfect. 

“I hate you.” Was all you could whisper, feeling too much all at once. Anger. Betrayal. Desire. Need. Satisfaction. 

He smirked, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole and applied just enough pressure to make you moan without pushing inside you yet. “You can hate me while you’re being fucked by me, I don’t care.” 

Neither did you. Not when he slowly pushed inside of, stretching you open as he went. Filling you up until you couldn’t think once he was snug inside you. Fuck. It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t look away from him, more tears spilling down your face once he was fully in. 

Out of all the emotion you were feeling, the stab of betrayal hurt the most. After all, your best friend had been lying to you. Comforting you all these years while you felt insecure when he was the reason behind it. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked. 

He knew what you were referring to. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He sounded just as breathless as you were. It was hard to hold back from wanting to fuck you like he dreamt of doing all these years. But he didn’t want it to hurt. So he was waiting, waiting for you to adjust to his size. “I couldn’t risk it.”

You moaned as he removed himself entirely, slowly, before pushing back into you. He was trembling with how much he had to hold back. You could tell. For a man of his magnitude, it was a given that being gentle wasn’t necessarily his forte. But he was still trying. 

“You’re so selfish.” You stated, even when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you slowly, as slow as possible. Letting you feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. It was so good it was agonising. 

“No,” He argued, still moving gently. “You know what would be selfish? If I asked your father for your hand in marriage behind your back. He would’ve approved of it, he loves me like a son and everyone knows that.” He kissed the side of your face. “But I gave you a choice, I was waiting for you to choose me. Getting rid of the competition all along was just… fun.” 

“Oh fuck you, Lewis.” You almost bit down on his shoulder when he tried to speed up a little. 

“You’re too tight, baby.” He whispered, kissing your face again. “Open for me. Let me fuck you, come on…” You heard him swear under his breath again, the warmth of his body on top of yours felt so good you never wanted this to end. 

Your heart raced even as you relaxed your body to let him in, to let him fuck you harder until fresh tears fell down your face. 

Lewis kissed your open mouth as you moaned for him, crying out loud each time his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “You’re all fucking mine,” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your throat again, “Is this what you wanted? Hmm? To be fucked like this?” He taunted. “Is this what you were begging for? You feel pretty now, princess?” 

His cocky words made you want to slap him but he felt too good for you to actually do it and risk him stopping. Instead, you carefully lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. 

Lewis leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours while fucking deeper into you. The simple gesture felt too intimate. You were in sync, bodies moving as one, sharing the same breath, hearts racing, you felt connected. 

The more you moaned and whimpered, the more you felt him losing his ability to be gentle. At some point, he gave up completely and just fucked you relentlessly. 

You felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips, your body begging for release. He could feel it too given how you clenched around him. 

“Already about to come for me, princess?” He chuckled, “That was quick.” You didn’t miss the arrogant tone in his voice. 

“Lewis… please.” You moaned, begging. 

“No.” 

His one word felt like it made your world come crumbling down. You cried out when he pulled out, right when you were mere seconds away from coming. 

Even he was surprised at how he was able to hold back from just fucking into you until you were both completely spent from coming too much. 

Lewis leaned in to kiss your swollen mouth. “You tortured me for years, princess.” He whispered against your mouth. “You don’t get to come that easily.” He pulled away and said, “Turn around for me.” 

You moved too slowly for his liking so he had to intervene. He pulled you onto your knees by your hips, shoving your face down into your soft pillow as he shoved his cock inside you again. 

His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen while he fucked into you. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how you clenched around his cock. 

“You feel me in here, princess?” He whispered, “You’re mine now, no one else is gonna touch you. Ever.” 

You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. There was nothing to do but take it, take him deep inside you each time he filled you up. 

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently. It felt dirtier now that you couldn’t see him. He squeezed enough to make you lose your mind.

“Fuck! Please, Lewis….” You cried, your body moving forward and back with each thrust of his. You clenched the blanket under you in your fists tightly, biting down onto the pillow as he quickened his pace. 

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, his voice deeper now. “Are you going to be mine forever?” 

“Yes…” Your voice sounded muffled. “Yes, please…” 

“Promise?” 

“Oh damn you! Yes!” 

He chuckled, leaning down to press his chest to your back as he fucked into your harder than earlier. “Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.” 

You came undone, hard and fast, moaning as you did. You had never imagined pleasure could be so blinding. Your brain was a foggy mess. You felt like you were floating. 

Lewis came right after you, groaning as he did. 

Both of you collapsed onto your bed, both catching your breaths and trying to calm your racing hearts. You could feel Lewis’s body heat right on top of you. 

Everything was blurry for a while after that. You briefly remember Lewis cleaning you up and placing the covers over you. 

When you came to again, you were laying almost entirely on top of his chest. Your ear right over his heart, which beat steadily now. His warm hand rubbed up and down your back. The room was dark now, all the lights were off. 

You wouldn’t see him but you still moved to look up at him. Or at least you tried to but the soreness in between your legs made you hiss in discomfort. 

“Sorry about that.” Lewis said quietly. You could hear the smug smile he was probably hiding. 

“I still hate you, Lewis. You piece of shit.” You muttered under your breath, placing your head back on his comfy chest. Your fingers traced over his skin, you knew exactly where all his tattoos were so you traced them even in the dark. 

“Sure.” He chuckled this time. “Didn’t sound like you hated me earlier. You screamed so loud I was worried we might have woken up the whole house.” 

Your face burned. You still couldn’t believe you actually did it. You slept with your best friend. It felt unreal. You tried to find that anger again, but it wasn’t there anymore. 

You still had one question. “Did you truly ever consider doing it? What you said earlier?” Your heart skipped a beat or two while you waited for an answer. 

Lewis was quiet for a moment then asked, “What exactly? I said a lot of things.” 

“Ask dad for my hand in marriage. Behind my back.” 

His silence said it all. 

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath again. 

He laughed, tightening his arms around you protectively. “You love me, princess. You would’ve pretended to hate the thought of it. You would’ve thrown a bratty fit. But in the end, you would’ve said yes.” Then he paused and added, “You will say yes when time comes.” 

You hide your face into his chest even in the dark. Your silence said it all too.

[princessbellecerise]

Prove It To You

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | You and your betrothed, Jacaerys Velaryon, are a love match. A feat that has upset many of the people vying for your hand, including Jason Lannister. When he makes a snide comment about Jacaerys not knowing how to please you properly, it’s up to the future king to prove him wrong

warnings | smut, slight insecure!jace, fingering, creampie, betrothed!jace, loss of virginity (m. and f.)

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

In your day and age, finding a love match was extremely rare.

In fact, it was often considered a miracle just to find a couple that could tolerate each other, let alone love one another and look forward to marriage, like you and Jacaerys did.

You supposed that was why your match was often celebrated, your betrothed’s own grandsire, the king of all people, calling for an elaborate feast just to congratulate the two of you.

From all over, Lords and Ladies from the great houses travelled to King’s Landing to bestow their best wishes upon you and Jace. Some genuinely happy for the two of you, some surprised, and some even…bitter that it wasn’t them.

Despite all your protests, you and Jacaerys had been the center of attention all night which was hard for two people as reserved as you were. You supposed you were at least grateful to have your lover by you side, holding his hand under the table so that you were not alone in your discomfort.

Every time some drunk Lord gave a toast or sloppily congratulated you, all eyes would be on the two of you. And every time, you wanted to bury your head in Jace’s shoulder to shy away from the attention.

It was so embarrassing to have people constantly looking at you, whispering their doubts and their gossip. No doubt people were pitying all of the unlucky gentleman you had declined just to be with Jace. Of course, no one would dare speak ill of the future king, but the curiosity as to why you picked him out of all your suitors still lingered.

After all, you had every man from Dorne to Casterly Rock asking for your hand, and yet you chose the sweet, quiet prince who many even hesitated to call him that.

Much to your dismay, the rumors of Jace and his parentage were still active even all these years later. Even when the king himself had named him as an heir, people still wondered. And for many people, especially the men that you had rejected, it made them feel as if your match was a bit…umbecoming.

After all, it was one thing to lose the most beautiful maiden in all of the land to a prince, but to an illegitimate one? Some people that believed the rumors just couldn’t handle that type of rejection.

Some people like Jason Lannister.

The man was sat a couple of seats down from you, but even with how loud it was, his voice still managed to stick out from the crowd. He was as loud as the roar of his family’s sigil, and it was hard to block out all of his jests and drunk comments from where you were seated.

Under the table, your grip on Jace had tightened the more Lord Lannister talked. It was like you were taking your anger at his snide comments out on Jace’s poor flesh, but the prince did not mind. In fact, he was too busy clenching his own fist to notice that it was yours causing him pain. The diplomatic smile on his face began to slip a little bit the more that miserable man ran his mouth.

God’s forgive him—Jace was trying his very best not to kill him.

“And then I said: I’ll buy you a bloody dragon if that’s what you want, but I guess the lady wishes to be with one that has true blood running through his veins.”

The whole section around the Lannister burst out laughing, but you didn’t find his commentary of your last interaction entertaining, and neither did Jace. His jaw ticked, obvious annoyance in his eyes as you shared a look. It was hard to miss the slight dig Lord Lannister had thrown at him by adding in true blood.

A dig that made Jace uncomfortable, just as he always was when someone even remotely questioned who his parents were.

A few seats over, you could see that you weren’t the only ones barely hanging on to your diplomatic smile as Princess Rhaenyra struggle to even lift the corner of her lips at Jason’s recount. Much like her son, she did not like it when people brought up who the father of her children was. And understandably so—as it wasn’t their business who the Princess chose to father her heirs.

You yourself somehow always knew the truth, despite Jace never really talking about it with you. But with the resemblance to Harwin Strong as clear as day, you knew that he wasn’t of any Velaryon blood. Not that you minded though, because if he was, he wouldn’t really be your Jace.

Sweet, kind, and more gentle than any of those other Lords that had approached you combined. Your Jace that was patient and…

Positively about to lose his mind as Jason Lannister made another remark.

“I think it is good, you know. That Lady Y/N choose the prince, because honestly we all know that I can be a bit much at times,” Everyone laughed and agreed at this. But Jason wasn’t finished. “No, no, I think it’s extremely fitting that she chose him, because Y/N is a simple woman and she needs to be with someone…unexperienced to match her naïveté. Gods knows I’ve made plenty of rounds in my days, but Prince Jacaerys is noble enough to never experience such things. A good thing for his future wife, I suppose. Or bad depending on how many children she should want.”

Laughter immediately rang out at the last few parts, and Jace turned beet red as Lord Lannister all but insinuated that he wouldn’t know to…um…satisfy your needs.

Your jaw dropped at the crude comment, disguised as a joke that many deemed funny. You even caught the king and his sons chuckling a little bit, which was the only reason you couldn’t physically do anything about what he said. It was just harmless teasing, that was all. But you knew more than anyone that Jace wouldn’t take it that way.

And you were right.

Your lover had always been quite sensitive, but especially when it came to you and your relationship. He already possessed many self-doubts because his kind nature held him back, often prompting Jace to believe that he was weak. Which was the last thing he was, you assured him, but sometimes when an idea was in his head it was hard to get rid of it.

Which was why the minute Jacaerys believed that Lord Lannister was making a mockery of him, he got angry. And suddenly the warm grip that had been keeping you grounded all night was gone, and you watched with a thumping heart as Jacaerys stood up.

His fists slammed angrily against the table, which caused you to flinch and the silverware to clatter underneath his force. Immediately, the sound of his chair scraping had silence bestowing over the crowd of nobles, everyone’s eyes on him as he stood there.

Worriedly, you looked up at Jace and you hoped that he wasn’t about to cause a scene, possibly jumping across the table to strangle Jason Lannister. It sure looked that way, so you tried to calm him down by standing up as well, gently whispering in his ear,

“Jace, my love. It is all right. Let him mock and let us just sit back down, alright?”

A comforting hand was placed at the small of his back, but even your gentle touch couldn’t shake the anger and embarrassment he felt. With everyone looking at him, whispers began to rise. Rhaenyra’s face dropped as her son turned beet red.

“Is something the matter?” The king asked, and that seemed to be the only thing that could finally snap Jace out of his trance.

The prince looked at his Grandsire, and he was oddly calm as he moved his lips.

“I am fine, your grace,” Jace insisted through a tight smile, his eyes not reflecting the emotions he was putting out. “I’m just a little bit overwhelmed, that is all. All of the attention tonight has clouded my head and I think I shall head to my chambers before I gain a headache. If that is alright with his grace.”

“Yes, of course,” Ever having the soft spot for Rhaenyra and her children, Viserys dismissed him from the feast and Jace took off at a pace faster than you had ever seen him walk.

He stormed out of the grand dining room, and that left only you, the center of attention now that your betrothed was gone.

“I…” Your eyes were steadily focused on Jace’s disappearing back, and you knew in your heart that you had to go after him. To make sure that he was okay, because you knew how these kinds of things got to him. “Is it all right if I be excused as well, your grace?” You asked as kindly as you could, throwing in, “I don’t believe I’m feeling very well either,” so that no one would be too suspicious of you going after Jace.

Of course, it was probably obvious what you intended to do but Viserys dismissed you anyways. So, you quickly bowed and then headed after your lover as fast as your feet could take you.

Jacaerys hadn’t left that far before you, so it was easy enough to catch up to him, slipping in behind him right as he prepared to close the doors to his chamber.

The wooden locks clicked into place and now you were stuck there with him as Jacaerys looked at you with his jaw slightly dropped.

“My love, what are you—”

“I had to see if you were all right,” You told him quickly, quieting your voice as if there was anyone but him around to hear you. “You…left dinner quite early and quite abruptly,” You added, “So I wanted to make sure that Lord Lannister didn’t hurt your feelings too badly with his poor jests.”

At this, you weren’t expecting Jacaerys to scoff at your words. You were surprised when he looked at you fiercely, the look in his eyes one that you had never seen before.

Pure anger.

“It is not my feelings that I’m concerned about,” He then told you, shaking his head, “But rather yours, and what you might feel towards me after his…implications.”

“His implications?” You rose a sudden eyebrow at this, extremely confused as to what Jacaerys was trying to say. “And what exactly did Jason Lannister imply that would effect my feelings towards you?”

“Well isn’t it obvious?” It wasn’t. “He was trying to imply that I won’t know how to fuck my own wife! The nerve he has, saying that to your face. I am sure he hoped it would steer you away from me to soothe his own ego, but I assure you, sweet darling, that while I am inexperienced, I am still well-versed on how to please a lady. I have read many books—”

“Jacaerys!”

You cut him off as heat flooded to your cheeks, which luckily he wasn’t able to see. A burning feeling traveled through your body at such lewd words, words that you had never heard escape from his mouth before. Never in the presence of you or any other lady for that matter.

Words that…sent a flaming desire straight to your core.

“Oh gods,” As if he suddenly realized what he had said, Jacaerys backed away and covered his mouth bashfully. In the heat of the moment, he had ranted entirely too much and now he had flustered his poor betrothed, who looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself as she looked at him. “My darling, I am so sorry. I did not mean—”

You cut him off with a giggle and Jacaerys was floored when you started laughing at his rambling rather than scolding him. Laughing as if what he had just said wasn’t inappropriate, and entirely not a conversation he should be having with you while you were unwed and alone in his chambers.

But alas, you did not seem to mind as you walked up to him and placed your hand in his. Jacaerys felt his cheeks heat up as his sheepish gaze met yours, but you were nothing less than amused as you said, “My dear prince, it is quite alright. I do not mind if you speak of such things with me.”

“But—”

“In fact,” You ignored his protesting and kept going, the burning sensation of your core egging you on. “I quite…liked hearing you say those kinds of words.”

“You did?” The disbelief was evident on his face. Jacaerys couldn’t hide his shock as you shyly nodded, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

“I think it is exciting that you think of me that way,” You confessed, slowly bringing your body closer to his. Jacaerys nearly lost his breath as your head craned to look at him, your eyelashes batting innocently. “That you’ve thought enough about us making love that you actually gained knowledge on how to do it properly.”

“I did,” Jace confirms with a bob of his throat. A twitch of his cock at how close your bodies were. “I read…I read all about it. I even asked…a few knights about it so that I could make sure I did it correctly. When the time comes, of course.”

“Is that so?” You purred as you ghosted your lips against his, Jace taking in a sharp intake of breath from the action. His body was screaming at him to just close that gap between the two of you, to kiss you make all his desires melt away. But his mind…the lessons that he had drilled into his head since childbirth, held him back.

Jace knew more than anyone that there was a certain order to these things; that he had to be gentleman to the very last second until you were wed. That he had to be patient and most importantly, not think about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you in that moment.

It was improper.

You knew it, and he did too. But somehow, as your lips and his own desire tempted him, Jace for once in his life seemed to not care for the rules.

“Yes,” He breathed out in ecstasy as his mind finally sunk out of reason, giving into the temptation that claimed most men. He looked down at you and then he uttered the words he knew would cause him nothing but trouble.

“Would you like me to prove it to you, my darling?” He asked. And you, having become just as eager as he was, nodded.

“Yes, my prince.” You all but begged him.

And so it was sealed. Jace’s lips met yours in a swift kiss, hot and passionate as you tangled your fingers in his hair. Jace moaned as you tugged, a way to bring him closer without saying the words. Quickly, your lover complied and Jacaerys moaned in your mouth as your body pressed against his.

Likewise, you let out a small gasp as the feeling of his hard member brushed over your thigh. You knew that men got…excited while doing certain acts, but you certainly never witnessed it before and you never expected it to turn you on like it did.

Jace’s arousal only triggered your own, something in between your legs beginning to stir as you deepened the kiss.

Almost involuntarily, your thighs began to grind together causing Jace to smile lightly against your lips and hold you even closer. With clammy hands, he pressed down on your waist and managed to guide your body towards his bed without breaking the kiss. Then, once your back hit the soft fabrics of his sheets, he pulled away and crawled on top of you.

Soft brown eyes met yours and you could see that Jace’s pupils were blown with desire. Lust, an emotion you’d never seen so prominent before, danced across his face and promoted him to reach out and trace the soft curves of your cheeks. He leaned down to kiss them both, and when he whispered in your ear how much he loved you, you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine.

You needed him, and you needed him badly. Your body was aching in way that you never thought was possible before, every fiber in your being craving Jace. Your most intimate parts were throbbing for him, and you wanted him to touch you before the sensation drove you wild. So, in a quick desperation, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest.

Jace looked surprised as you did, shocked by the desperate look in your eyes. He had never imagined that you’d want him as much he wanted you, but alas, he wasn’t going to question it. Like a good boy, he started to comply with your silent request and gently massaged the clothed flesh underneath, his actions causing you to gasp a little bit.

You looked at Jace and the feeling felt nice but—you wanted more. Hastily, you grabbed his hand again and brought it down to ghost over the strings of your dress, already beginning to undo the laces before Jacaerys quickly helped.

Together, you managed to get the tight fabric loosened and Jace nearly drooled as your breast popped out. The sweet sight of your exposed flesh caused his cock to twitch, wanting nothing more than to lean in and capture your breast in his mouth. He wanted to touch you and he wanted to explore you so bad, so that’s what he did.

He left the bottom half of your body clothed so that he could take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, the new sensation taking you by shock. You gasped as Jace’s lips wrapped around your bud, licking and sucking and causing you to moan as you tangled your hands in his hair.

Never had you ever experienced the pleasure of someone sucking on your breasts before, and Jace looked up to see that you had fluttered your eyes shut in pleasure, a smile on your face.

Clearly, you were enjoying his actions which made him a bit more confident as he moved to your other bud. He took that one in his mouth and left sweet marks you’d have to cover in the morning. Licking and marking your chest so that you may remember who you belonged to, and the pleasure that he caused you.

Jace knew you wouldn’t forget; not after what else he had planned for you. After this, he was going to make sure his beloved knew in her heart and soul that the man she was going to marry was more than capable of pleasuring her.

Not that you ever doubted him anyways, but you were throughly shocked when Jace abandoned your chest for something a little more exciting. For something he had learned from Daemon in secret; a sure fire way to get any lady riled up.

Jace trusted his uncle and you trusted him, so when he started to pull the rest of your dress down you didn’t resist him. In fact, you aided him by lifting your hips up, eager to get the restricting fabric off. It felt like it was choking you even though your chest was already exposed. Restricting you from experiencing what you really wanted; what Jace was desperate to show you.

You could see it in his face that he was determined, biting his lip as he glanced your body over. By now, you were fully naked below him and your cunt throbbed as the cool air lapped against it. It caused you to shiver and look at Jace with a questioning look in your eyes, wondering what else he had in store for you.

Fortunately, Jace was generous lover and he didn’t keep you waiting long. Which was why he leaned back down to connect your lips together.

The kiss was hot, desperation spilling over like lava from an active volcano. It burned both you and Jace but the sting felt so good, especially when he started to use his fingers to trace your body.

Ever so lightly, he trailed down and your hips bucked a little as he brushed some of your sweet spots. The spots on your body that had you trembling a little, white hot desire flashing in your stomach.

You didn’t stop him as Jacaerys trailed his fingers lower and lower, but you had to admit that you were nervous. His lips helped a little bit, but the nerves you felt from being touched for the very first time seemed to eat you alive.

You were glad Jace took the liberty of studying before hand because you would have no idea what to do. You let him take control and it was obvious that Jace was grateful as he pulled away from your lips.

Slightly swollen, he curved them into a smile and lingered just below your belly button. Tempting you with his feather-light touches, dazzling you with those big brown eyes.

You swore your heart was going to burst in your chest from all the love and excitement you felt, and you were sure Jacaerys felt the same. You hadn’t the courage to fully look at him yet, but you caught glances of the way his cock was straining against his dress pants. Thick and hard, a fact that made you both nervous and eager.

Slowly, your body grew hot and your mind went blank as Jace leaned down to nibble on your ear. Sighing lightly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and shivered when he began to speak.

“Sweet girl, would you like for me to show you what I’ve learned now?” He all but purred, and you couldn’t stop the embarrassingly quick nod that came from after, nor the clench of your thighs as your core throbbed.

“Please—” You rasped out the word like a begger on the streets asking for favor. Only, it wasn’t food or gold that you were seeking.

You wanted him, and only him as you stared up at Jacaerys. Your E/C eyes met his dark brown ones and you could see them twinkling as he smiled at you, obviously pleased with your answer.

“Hm,” He pretended to think about it for a moment which nearly killed you with anticipation. You bit your lip as his fingers danced dangerously close to your heat, obviously teasing you which you hated.

Luckily though, Jacaerys had never been a cruel man, so it was only a few more seconds of torture before he gave in to your desires. “As you wish then, my love,” He decided, and then his fingers dropped to a place that only he could touch.

“Jacaerys—”

You mewled as his slender fingers rubbed your aching core, gasping when he brushed over your bundle of nerves and then crying out as Jace pushed a finger inside of you.

You were wet, so it was easy for him to sink into your cunt but it didn’t make the stretch any less uncomfortable.

Tears kissed your eyes since you had never had anyone’s fingers inside of your cunt, not even your own, but Jacaerys was quick to soothe you with a simple praise. He whispered how proud of you he was for taking him, encouraging you on until he sunk deeper and deeper.

Your tight cunt welcomed his digit reluctantly, but eventually Jace was able to put his whole finger inside of you and he took note of how tight you were. Something in his brain couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted it to be his cock that you clenched around, but as agonizing as it was to have to wait, he knew that this was a crucial step for you.

So, slowly he began to pump his digit in and out, looking for any sign of discomfort from you. He held your gaze and while it did sting just a little bit, you couldn’t deny that the foreign sensation also felt…kind of good.

You’d never felt anything like it, but it made your walls clench in ways that had you moaning a little. Jace took this as a sign that you liked what he was doing and kept going, something inside of you began to awaken. Pleasure, perhaps, stirring inside of your cunt as Jace pleased you just the way he had learned.

You were gasping and groaning, your mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape when Jace’s finger brushed against a particularly sensitive part inside of your sex. Involuntarily, your hips bucked off of the bed, your back curling to the point where Jace had to hold you down.

He licked his lips as your delicious moans filled his ears and decided all of a sudden that you were ready for more.

Slowly, he sank his middle finger into you and then began to quicken his pace. The added digit surprised you, but it was definitely welcomed by your fluttering cunt. And fuck—you never knew anything could feel this good, broken moans slipping through your lips as Jacaerys assaulted the most sensitive parts of you. His thumb rubbed pleasureful circles against your pearl while his middle and index fingers brushed against your sweet spot over and over again. It seemed that Jace had found just the right angle to please you, and whatever it was had you gasping for breath.

It felt so good and it caused your cunt to clench around him, Jace panting as a tight feeling built up in your stomach. It almost…it almost felt like there was something inside of you that was going to burst, like a dam threatening to overflow at any moment. It built and it built, waves of pleasure lapping over you the more Jace played with your pearl. The combination of him hitting your sweet spot and doing that was enough to send you over the edge, and a strange volcano of bliss erupted over through body.

“Mhmm, Jace! Oh, gods! I’m gonna—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as suddenly, your very first orgasm rushed over you and stole the very breath from your lungs. You nearly stopped breathing as your cunt clamped down on Jace’s fingers, your sweet arousal coating the digits and the sheets underneath you. No doubt they were drenched from the sin that Jace had just pulled from your body, but that was the absolute least of your concerns.

Your were more worried about the fact that your mind had gone blank, your eyes hazy as you experienced the foreign pleasure.

It caused your body to nearly go limp and you were mumbling incoherent nonsense as Jace watched you. Brown eyes drank in every single detail that was in front of him, burning the image of your sweet cunt coated with your juices in his head. Coated with your orgasm that he pulled from you, despite never even laying with a woman before.

To say he was proud of himself was an understatement. Jace was so happy that he made you come undone with his fingers, but he was so hard that he could barely find it in himself to gloat.

Not when his cock was still straining against his trousers, reminding Jace that the best was yet to come.

His fingers had only been round one. But—you quickly realized that there was more in store for you as Jace began to get undressed.

One by one, you watched with anxious eyes as each article of Jace’s dress clothes came off. First his tunic which had you staring at his defined chest, then his belt which had you trembling in anticipation.

Finally, when Jace’s trousers came off and he was as bare as you were in the moment, you held your breath as your eyes focused on his hardened length.

It was the first time you had ever seen a man in such a way and Jace’s cock intimidated you. It stood tall against his stomach, almost taunting you as he walked closer.

As if he could sense your nerves, Jace’s expression turned to one of sweetness and reassurance as the prince mounted you and positioned himself near your entrance.

Slowly, he began to stroke the tip of his cock against your folds which caused you to pant heavily. You wrapped your legs around his waist like it was instinct, and Jace’s right hand came up in order to loving stroke your face.

He stared into your eyes, and then he began to push himself in.

The pain that everyone described wasn’t so bad, especially not when Jace had already warmed you up. In fact, you were pleasantly surprised that it was no more than a slight sting, that died down as Jace stilled his hips inside of you.

He waited until you were more comfortable to start moving, looking at for the slightest signs to stop. He was always so sweet, your dear betrothed. So loving and gentle with you.

But now, it was time to be anything but.

The ache you had for him was becoming unbearable so you moved your hips to let him know it was okay. Holding on tight as he began to push past your barriers, your walls and hands gripping him tight.

Jacaerys groaned at the feeling once he was fully sheathed inside of you. So tight—fuck, you were so warm. He swore that you were sucking him in, already on the path to milk him dry.

He felt like he was going to come and not that the prince had any complaints, but he wanted to last longer for you. To make your first time special, so he held on and slowly moved his hips.

His pace allowed you to feel everything, every drag of his cock along your walls. It caused illicit moans to escape from your lips and your fingernails to dig into his back.

Jacaerys winced a little at the feeling but you didn’t notice due to the pleasure clouding your senses. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

So good—so sweet. Your prince was all yours, and you proved this by leaving small marks on his shoulder.

If anyone asked, Jace would simply tell them they were bites from bugs. Never would he reveal your secret, for he knew what the two of you were doing was forbidden.

But he didn’t care.

The future king didn’t understand how something so wrong could feel so right. It truly felt like you were made for him; born to take his cock for all eternity.

The thought of this caused Jacaerys to snap his hips more violently. His pace sped up and soon his cock was driving in and out with lewd sounds filling the room. The sound your wetness coating his cock became all that he could focus on, his own moans echoing throughout the room as he chased his peak.

Likewise, you were mewling underneath him, eyes closed in bliss. The feeling of him inside of you caused pressure to build in your stomach, which only accentuated when he reached down to play with your pearl.

Gasping, your eyes shot open and you moaned while Jacaerys held your gaze. He was confident in the way he moved his fingers, trusting his uncle and the books that provided his knowledge. Every source he sought out said that this would be action that brung you to your peak, this would make you come undone.

And Gods, how right they were.

Jacaerys watched as you began to writhe underneath him and how your eyes rolled to the back of your head the faster that he played with your sex. He toyed with all of the spots that made you feel good while simultaneously keeping his pace, rocking in and out of you.

It felt so good that you could hardly breathe, let alone think straight as you let out a shout and came without another warning.

Your legs locked up, your cunt clenching down on him and you held onto Jacaerys’ body for dear life as you moaned and writhed underneath him. Your eyes fell to the back of your head and sure enough, not even a second later Jace was joining you with his own peak.

The prince closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he joined your hands together before letting his seed coat your walls.

Nevermind the consequences or the fact that you weren’t even married yet, Jace just wanted to feel you and he did. He made sure that the two of you were as close as possible, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and burying himself as deep he could go.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and you drank them in, drank him in as a warm feeling coated your body. You were breathing heavily and you had never felt so sweaty, but you were content laying underneath Jacaerys and looking into his eyes.

At that moment, nothing else mattered to you and when his lips captured yours, you felt complete.

A little sore, but it didn’t matter as Jacaerys pulled away and stroked your face.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked softly, and you nodded as a smile crossed your face.

“I’ve never been better,” You told him honestly. “That was…amazing.”

“I’m glad I was able to prove myself then,” Jacaerys said, and you both let out a laugh as he pulled himself out of you, rolling over so he could lay by your side.

You had to admit, you felt a little empty now that he was no longer inside of you but the warmth of his body was quickly able to make up for it. Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lay on his chest whilst you both caught your breath.

You both knew that you only had limited time to hold one another other, since the feast was still raging on and neither of you wanted to be gone for too long. It would be too suspicious so the time that you did have, you cherished it in silence until finally it was time to get dressed.

Your cheeks were hot the entire time you slipped your dress back on and the smile never once left your face. You were so happy, you felt like you could barely contain yourself as you faced Jacaerys again.

Soft hands cupped your face and brown eyes met yours. Jacaerys leaned in to kiss you and you let him, resting your forehead on his as you sighed.

“Back to the monkey fest we go,” You told him sadly, not wanting to go back. You wanted nothing more than to just stay with Jacaerys and lay in his arms forever. You just wanted to be married already and never have to leave your chambers again if you didn’t want to. And you could tell that Jace felt the same way, but you both knew it wasn’t possible. Not tonight, at least.

“We shall be married soon enough, my love, and next time we won’t have to,” Jace promised as he grabbed your hands. They fit perfectly together, and you smiled as he kissed the back of yours. “Next time, we will not invite Jason Lannister and there shall be no more questions as to if I can please my wife.”

There was still distain in his voice and you knew he was still irritated by Jason’s comments. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset too, but after what just happened, you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about.

“I think you’ve already proved that plenty,” You told Jace, giggling.

He smiled.

“Come. Let us go back before they come searching for us,” He suggested, and then off you two went, unable to wipe the smiles off of your faces, and the look that Jace threw towards the eldest Lannister once you got back to the feast was full of smugness, knowing that he proved him wrong and that his future bride had absolutely nothing to worry about.

[radfemsiren]

There’s something so specific about female oppression that makes you acutely aware of being a small part of a bigger phenomenon.

I’m not an Asian woman, but there’s a profound disturbance I feel when I see an Asian sister become degraded for the crime of being woman. I feel a deep hatred for sex tourism and fetishization, for maids being treated like commodities and having their passports withheld from them. I feel my stomach wretch when I see a picture of Junko Furuta, when I heard those male Japanese politicians laugh at raising the age of consent in pornography. There’s something wrong happening to my sisters out there.

I’m not a black woman but I feel a deep ugly pit in my stomach when I see the interviews of Sudanese women escaping rape and starvation in the desert. When I saw that video of Cassie Ventura running from Diddy in the hallway, when I hear her screams and know his power and influence protected him for so many years. When I see the family portraits of Sonya Massey and her children, and I know there can be no future ones ever created. There’s something wrong happening to my sisters.

I’m not a woman who is disabled. I’m not a woman in a domestically abused relationship. I’m not a prostituted woman. I’m not a trafficked woman. I’m not locked away right now. Everything that happened to me is in my past… I have freedom and autonomy now… I can just move on and forget about the worldwide phenomenon of female pain. But I know I can’t. There’s a terrible gnawing.

Growing up Muslim we always were taught that the Muslim nation is called the Ummah. The Ummah must operate as one body. I was taught many times that if anyone in the Ummah at any time is in pain, the body is restless, and can’t sleep… even the smallest prick of a finger can keep you wide awake, aware of the pain. They always said it like that, holding up a finger. Just, the smallest, prick.

There’s a sickness happening in the worldwide body of women, and it keeps me awake at night. There’s anger and defensiveness I feel when a woman is the butt of a mean joke. There’s bitter resentment I feel when I see men get special treatment that I know a woman would be crucified for. I feel anger so often. When I see little girls being stabbed in the news. When I see girls starving in Palestine. When I see girls forced to wear hijab and stay home in Afghanistan. Sudan. Yemen. Iran. Egypt. Honduras. Femicide. Rape. Forced birth. Menstrual huts. FGM. So many ugly words, so many tainted countries.

Sometimes I worry that too much anger might poison me over time…but what can I do about my sisters? There isn’t a finger prick upsetting my body, there’s gaping wounds, pulsing and bleeding out. I cant sleep like that… Sometimes I hold onto my body when I’m alone, with that sickening knowledge what while it does everything it possibly can to keep me alive and safe, women all over are suffering for having the same exact body. Sometimes I would hate my body in the past. Knowing that certain things only happened to me for the crime of having a female body. But now I hold onto it, grateful it keeps me alive and breathing, and I try to ignore that gnawing at the back of my mind while I try to sleep.

[nadvs]

what would be the first time that rafe calls reader baby? (sleeping w the enemy )

oooo it slips out in a moment of comfort 🤭 also this got so long omg but i love hurt/comfort too much!!

based on this fic, combined with this ask

a couple of months after she starts messing around with rafe, she meets a guy at the library. they double-booked the same study room and they start talking and eventually exchange numbers. she quickly develops a crush on him.

at first, she told rafe she’s giving up on relationships, ranting about how she’ll always just get her heart broken, but this guy is so sweet and sincere and interested, so she says yes when he asks her on a date, figuring she shouldn’t always expect the worst from men.

the night after the date, she and rafe are hanging out in her dorm and she tells him about how good of a time she had, that maybe this guy is relationship material.

rafe is a total dick about it. she didn’t expect him to be thrilled, but at the bare minimum, he could pretend to be happy for her.

“so, what?” he snips coldly after she tells him about how much fun it was. “you got a boyfriend now?”

“what’s your problem?” she asks, upset at his sudden bitterness.

they’re sitting on her bed. he thought she invited him over to hook up. but this feels like a break-up in a weird way.

“you said you weren’t looking for that,” he states.

he’s right. she was adamant about how much she didn’t want a relationship.

“i’m allowed to change my mind,” she replies. “i was just saying. it was one date. i don’t know where it’s going to go. why are you so mad?”

rafe doesn’t even really know himself. but the anger running through him is white hot. like always, he tells her what he’s really thinking, sparing no feelings.

“because we can’t do this anymore,” he admits. “not if you’re going to be someone’s girl.”

honestly, he would keep hooking up with her even if she was in a relationship. but he knows she would never cheat.

she’s quiet for a moment, looking down at her lap.

“we can still be friends,” she finally says, embarrassed when her voice starts to tremble. “unless you only hang out with me for…?”

rafe knows what she means. unless he only hangs out with her for sex.

his jaw tightens. he can feel it bubbling in him, his impulse to hurt, to be spiteful. it’s the only way he knows how to deal when someone makes him feel like this.

“you’re an idiot if you think we’ll stay friends,” he says. he watches the light leave her eyes. she’s not angry anymore. she’s just sad.

“wow,” she scoffs. “fuck you.”

“no, i mean,” he begins, “he’s not gonna want you hanging around with a guy you were hooking up with.”

“as if you give a shit what he wants,” she mutters. “you’re back-tracking because you know that was an asshole thing to say.”

it’s his turn to go quiet. finally, she sighs and stands and crosses the room to open the door.

“just go,” she says. tears prick her eyes and for once, she hides her feelings from him, looking away. “if you really think i’m only worth keeping around if i’m putting out, you can leave.”

she half-hopes he’ll fight her on it. but he doesn’t. he leaves.

when he gets home, rafe realizes he wasn’t actually honest with her. but that’s because he wasn’t even honest with himself. he’s jealous.

he thought they were on the same page about not wanting anything serious. but he can’t ignore the gnawing sense of inadequacy. she changed her mind. she’d be willing to be a girlfriend. but for someone else. this other guy is worth the reconsideration. and rafe isn’t.

he hates that he cares; he doesn’t even want a relationship. and he hates that she was right. it was an asshole thing to say.

a couple of weeks later, the guy she was seeing ghosts her. and she and rafe haven’t spoken. the only contact they’ve had is a few tense glances at the basketball court when he comes to play against her college. and he views all her snap stories. she doesn’t get why he even cares to check.

the rejection stings. she knows she shouldn’t look for validation in guys, and she tries her hardest not to, but why don’t relationships ever work out? is there something wrong with her?

rafe is still pissed. mainly because he misses her. they were messing around, but she really was his friend, too. there’s a hole in his life where she used to be.

when he sees her courtside one night, cheering for his opponents, he lets his eyes linger on her longer than he usually allows himself to since their falling out. he keeps waiting for the moment he won’t care about her anymore. but it’s not coming.

the whistle signals the end of the third quarter and finally, rafe pushes past his pride to go talk to her.

she notices her friends on the squad looking surprised at something over her shoulder. and then she turns to see rafe approaching her, his skin flushed from how much he’s been running across the court.

“you guys ever get any new songs?” he mutters, hoping she’ll ease into teasing each other like they always used to do.

“you mean cheers?” she says coldly. “sometimes.”

she averts her gaze, uninterested and bitter.

“how’ve you been?” he asks quietly.

“oh, great,” she answers. “busy being an idiot.”

rafe mumbles her name in irritation.

“i was right, though, wasn’t i?” he says. her face twists in disbelief. “not about that. about how he doesn’t want us hanging out.”

“i wouldn’t let a guy dictate who i can be friends with,” she replies. “but it doesn’t even matter. it didn’t work out.”

rafe searches her face.

“you didn’t tell me.”

“please,” she scoffs. “why would i? you only want me to call you to hook up. that’s all i’m good for, right?”

he huffs an annoyed sigh. but he doesn’t deny it.

“shouldn’t you be giving a pep talk to your team?” she says. she turns around, clearly done with the conversation.

his game ends in a loss. and honestly, rafe blames her. she got in his head. he was distracted.

he sees on her story later that night that she’s out at a restaurant. he feels like such a wuss for hoping she’s there with her girlfriends and not some guy. he can’t tell by the photo.

an hour later, he texts her: you still out? can i come over?

she doesn’t reply. maybe it was a date. maybe the guy’s over at her place. after ten minutes, he texts to clarify: just to talk.

she gives in and replies: fine. i’m home.

when rafe knocks on her door, he’s weirdly nervous. she answers it with a scowl, still clearly upset.

“just to talk, huh?” she says.

rafe rolls his eyes and steps into her dorm. he can smell her perfume. her room. it’s so fucking corny but the way she smells makes him feel so damn comfortable. he didn’t know he could miss a smell.

“yeah,” he says gruffly. he settles on the edge of her bed. it makes his chest ache when she sits at her desk instead of next to him.

“then talk.”

“my bad, alright?” he says tensely. “i’m sorry. you’re not an idiot. i shouldn’t have said that. i was just…”

rafe can’t say the word jealous out loud. it’s so heavy.

“you were what?” she says.

“pissed that this was ending,” he finally mutters. “i don’t… like not having you around.”

she runs her fingers over the back of her chair, unsure of what kind of territory this conversation is falling into.

“well, this didn’t have to end. we could’ve at least stayed friends,” she says.

the sound of the word could’ve is so final. rafe hates it. it feels like she’s committed to cutting him out of her life. and it’s agonizing, the thought of permanently losing someone who he can joke around with, who always gives it to him straight, who he has so much fun with that time stops.

“we could’ve?” he mutters. it’s humiliating how quiet his voice has gotten.

“yeah,” she says, not sensing how harsh her words were. “and i already told you. it didn’t even work out with him, so we fought for nothing.”

she looks down, her features falling with sadness. rafe studies her. his sense of protectiveness sparks like a fire.

“what’d he do?” he mutters.

“he just stopped talking to me,” she says with a defeated laugh. “i thought things were going well. i don’t…”

“what?” he asks.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admits, her glossy eyes landing on his.

rafe is shit at emotions. he doesn’t know what to do when he cries, let alone when someone cries around him. he sticks to what he knows with her. straight-up honesty.

“nothing’s wrong with you,” he tells her.

“yeah, it is,” she says. “guys never want to stick around. and i don’t mean you. i mean guys i’m dating. at some point, i have to look at the common denominator. i must be boring.”

“no, baby, you’re not boring,” rafe says. then he looks away and breathes in slowly. what an embarrassing slip-up.

“you’re not boring,” he repeats. “you’re…” every word that comes to mind to describe her, amazing, beautiful, special, it’s all feels so weird for him to say out loud. especially after he just called her baby.

“you’re the best.” it’s corny, but he’ll be corny if it’ll make her feel better. “i wasn’t keeping you around only for… that. we can just be friends.”

her lips quirk up in a small smile. the best. he’s never given her a compliment like that.

“can an idiot be the best?” she mumbles.

“i didn’t mean that. i’m sorry.” he purses his lips. “and you’ve called me worse.”

“as a joke,” she counters. “you know that.”

“yeah,” rafe relents. “i do.”

“never called you baby, though,” she teases, the ice between them finally melting.

“listen…” rafe sighs, scratching the back of his neck. he needs to change the subject. he doesn’t know why he said that. “i’m just saying it’s not on you that so many guys are losers. he’ll regret messing things up with you.”

she takes a moment to let his words sink in. she knows he really, truly believes that.

“thanks,” she says. “maybe you are a good friend.”

“you thought i wasn’t?” he asks. he loves that she’s smiling again. that they’re joking around again.

“let’s see… a good friend would take me out and buy me a sweet treat right now,” she says with a shrug.

rafe stuffs his hand in his pocket to fish his car keys out.

“where are we going?” he sighs, pretending to be annoyed. in reality, he’s so damn happy to be good with her again. even without the prospect of sex.

“i’ll decide in the car,” she says, standing up. “and i’m still mad at you, just so you know.”

“you’ll get over it.”

“maybe i won’t,” she says. he follows her out the door, pacing down the long corridor with her. “what then, baby?”

“shut up,” he laughs, embarrassed, nudging her shoulder.

“never,” she replies. and he’s glad, because he doesn’t want her to shut up. honestly, he doesn’t want her to ever stop talking to him.

he’s never going to let that much time pass again after a fight. because fights are inevitable. they’re too similar not to butt heads. but he’s not putting himself through the torture of allowing her to step back from his life. he kind of needs her at this point.

as a friend, he tells himself. that’s all. but maybe he’s doing it again - lying to himself.

[trappolia]

FINGERS TWISTED BEHIND MY BACK (DON'T LET IT BE YOU I LACK) ── aventurine x gn!reader, 862

aventurine hates fighting with you.

he does not even remember it—not clearly, at least. through the memories mudded by the buzz of soulglad and whatever alcoholic beverages he'd guzzled down the night before, the exact expression of your face when he stumbled back into your hotel room is a blur (a pretty blur, he is quite sure, though no doubt a disappointed one) and the sentences you'd spat out at him were jumbled into words that grate in his eardrums when he tries to recall what exactly was said. aventurine tries to echo it to himself, but even the incoherence sounds bitter on his tongue, and all that comes out an indistinct, asthmatic gasp that he's quite sure is some sort of equivalent of his heart aching. or breaking. somewhere in between, perhaps.

he rolls over in your bed, damp from the shower and tears. aventurine is thankful veritas hasn't stormed in to nag at him; he would not be able to stomach being seen like this by anyone else but you: his sweet safe haven, his little eden. you've gone now, stormed off somewhere to cool off. aventurine leaves you be (even if he spent the first two hours alone relentlessly spamming your phone with messages, pleas to come back and return) but he is still alone.

the thought occurred to him somewhere between hour three and hour five, that you'd never come back. aventurine doesn't let it linger. his stomach roils, mouth tasting of bitter alcohol and sweet dreams where you are still there and he'd never upset you.

the hours he spends there without you are hellish, a parody of a bleak, grief-stricken painting of some woman whose husband has gone out to fight in an intergalactic war—draped over the bed, numb and miserable to everything but the thought of you he has to conjure every now and then to keep himself sane. the air is cold and never seems to adjust, even though the reverie's rooms are specifically designed to tailor to the guest's tastes. they clearly did not consider the factor that is a hopeless, lovesick man suffering from withdrawal.

the door creaks open.

aventurine darts up in his your bed, instantly whipping myself up into such a nervous, edgy frenzy that he almost forgets how to breathe. his lungs shudder, the cogs in his brain turning the wrong way, and nothing is working fast enough, right enough as he stumbles to his feet, nearly tripping over the carpet as he finds you toeing off your shoes at the door, so pretty it hurts.

"welcome home," aventurine manages to choke out, still tripped-out and dizzy, heart pounding loud in his fingertips and ears. he watches you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his own for the first time in hours that feel like centuries, and the burden on his lungs alleviates—just a little bit.

"…aventurine," you sigh in this throaty, broken voice that cuts right at his chest. he winces as if he's been struck, eyes flitting to the dizzying pattern of the carpet in effort to hide the glossiness of his irises.

he hears your feet padding across the room to him, the footfalls soft and slow and not at all violent, though he cannot help but fear. there can always be a finality to the softest, gentlest of mercies. not that aventurine has ever experienced it before, but he knows it is possible with you: you who holds his heart in your hands, and you may very well tear it apart if you so wished.

aventurine will let you, if that is what you want.

but instead he swallows, too loudly; finds his fingers instinctively twisting behind his back. "are you going?"

"i just arrived," you whisper, endlessly gentle, endlessly soft—forgiving.

"i know," his voice breaks, and you reach out to touch him—palm against cheek, thumb brushing over the slope of his cheekbone. something cold and damp trails over the flesh of his face, fair marble streaked with a single rivulet of a tear. he does not tell you why he wants to cry. you know anyway.

aventurine thinks pretending would be easier with you, but here in this room, at the end of the day when everyone else has escaped into their own dreamscape, he is tired of saccharine sweet lies, the twisting webs that he pulls around without even understanding the final result it will conjure. it is easier, he thinks, to let you keep his heart and do with it as you wish—and aventurine can only hope that you will be merciful.

are you going? the second set of three words, that single question that he truly wants to ask is caught in his throat, because you may hold aventurine's heart in your palms, but if you will not use your own bloody fingers to pry it open, he must do it for you—and he can't. not for this, at least.

but you know anyway. of course you do.

will you stay?

"i'm right here," you murmur, sweet and godly against his lips, swallowing the sob that he almost lets out. "i'm staying right here."

© trappolia 2024

[cordeliawhohung]

In Limbo [Chapter 7]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

another deal. another oath.

cw: illnesses and symptoms, PTSD, allusions to past non-con situations

wc: 4.4k

Marco got you sick. 

Building pressure throbs between your eyes, ravaging your sinuses with tightly packed snot. It moves to your ears and throat until you’re constantly hacking up phlegm and the tinnitus in your ears is so bad you can hardly hear patrons over the idle chatter in the restaurant. Of course, there is no evidence to prove that Marco was the one to get you sick. There are countless people who flood through the door of Sapori with empty stomachs and noses running from the bitter, humid cold of London. Anyone could have gotten you sick. 

Yet, over the last week, no one has gotten as close to you as he did. Fingers digging into your arm. Leg pinning yours. Gentle hand — the hand of a killer, his hand, that brutal fucking hand — caressing the side of your face, holding you hostage. Taking and taking and taking, tongue shoving past your teeth —

Blurry eyes glance away from the assaulting brightness of your phone screen. Sapori is quiet; it always is this early. Early for late night dining, anyway. Half past ten, you’ve spent most of the morning cleaning every single corner of that building, but got dizzy after an hour, so you’ve taken refuge at a lonely table. The dust and carcinogens you’ve inhaled in the process hasn’t done anything to ease your symptoms, but you can’t afford to stay idle. There are numbers to be crunched, cash to be earned, and debts to be paid. 

Which brings you back to your phone. 

Having only graduated school without any sort of higher education, your options for jobs are limited, but only working at Sapori isn’t cutting it anymore. You can either pick up more hours like you have been this past week, or attempt to find a job that’ll pay slightly more and help cover the difference in what you now owe Marco every month. You’ve been staring at hourly wages for so long you feel your eyes begin to cross, and you don’t exactly like what you’re seeing. An early morning librarian job for £11.44, coffee shop barista for £12… nothing salary. Nothing that will save you. 

“Job hunting?” 

The ringing in your ears suffocates your senses so viciously that you didn’t hear Bruce’s footsteps approach, and you stare up at him like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nothing like looking at other jobs with your boss staring over your shoulder. The screen goes black, and you choke out a sheepish smile through the snot leaking into the back of your throat. 

“Just for a second job. Part-time,” you explain. Your voice sounds louder than his, ears too clogged to properly receive soundwaves. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving any time soon.”

Bruce’s mellifluous laugh is the first thing that’s warmed your soul all week. It’s contagious. The smallest of smiles flitters across your lips as he carefully takes the seat across from you, large bowl in either hand. 

“Ah, I would not be upset if you left. Sad, yes, but everyone finds their way out of here eventually,” Bruce assures. His accent is odd. Immigrating from Italy at a young age, his vernacular is a mash of proper English, Italian, and what you’re guessing is Italian-American slang. Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been able to gather from the movies, anyway. “You are a hard worker. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

A wave of tears build up behind your eyes at his words, and they’re held back by a flimsy, half-formed dam. Your emotions have been strewn about in your brain, cluttered, sticking halfway out of folders and filing cabinets. It’s hard to shove them back when you can hardly shut the drawers.

“Here,” he continues as he pushes the bowl toward you. The hard lines of his face soften as he watches you curiously peer at the contents; tiny bits of pasta mixed with some sort of thickened broth. “Pastina. Good for your health. You sound sick. Eat up and go home.” 

Your hand is hardly gripping the spoon when he says that, and it nearly slips out of your grasp. Mouth half open, you stare at Bruce with wide eyes. There’s not a single hint of maliciousness on his face — his eyes twinkle bright as he runs a hand over his balding head. Though he appears happy — almost proud of himself, even — you feel nothing of the sort. 

“I can’t go home,” you try to argue, but he quickly cuts you off with a wave of his hand. 

“You’re sick, and you’ve been working too much. You’ve worked more hours than I have this week, and I can’t allow that. Rest, before you really make yourself sick,” he dismisses. 

Swallowing thickly, you attempt fruitlessly to hide the tremor in your voice. “But I… need the money.” 

It’s all you can think about. Money. Numbers. This vicious counting game. How you’re going to cough up the extra cash for Marco and still have enough to feed yourself. To do anything. To live. Or worse — what happens to you if you can’t make enough? How many more times is he going to change your payments based on stupid mistakes that aren’t your fault? 

Waving your words off again, Bruce stands to his feet, hands pressing flat against the swell of his stomach as he does so, like the jovial chuckle he gives you needs support. “I’ll give you a raise, then.” 

Jarred, the side of your spoon taps against the edge of your bowl as you follow him with your eyes. “A raise?” 

“Twenty,” he replies. “Should be enough. I’m tired of you working so many hours. You need to go out and be a kid before you get old and useless like me. Pick up a hobby. Hang out with that guy Bee won’t stop talking about. He seems nice, hm? I just want you to be happy, kid. Now, eat up. You’ll feel better.” 

Bruce vanishes just as quickly as he appeared, leaving you alone with a bowl of pastina and your thoughts. It’s good that he did, because if you tried to thank him for such a gracious gesture, you’d certainly crumble. Perhaps he knew that, too. 

In a poor attempt to save yourself from crying in public, you quickly turn your attention to the food Bruce lovingly whipped up for you. Steam wafts and twirls upwards, hitting your face in a fine mist. Its flavor is difficult to discern with how congested you are, but the rich texture is enough to satiate the hole in your stomach. It always seems ever growing these days. A barren cavern; a void that wants to swallow you from the inside out. Not ravenous, just gutting. 

Maybe one day it will fill itself up again. 

For now, it grows. Slowly. Insidiously. Taking bits of you and shredding them into ribbons. They trail behind you, fluttering in the wind as you walk up the steps to your flat where they roll down the stairs. It would look beautiful, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was you. You, with quiescent feet trudging through the door. You, with the fatigued body that can hardly dress herself into pajamas. You, who curls into bed, a motherless child — a creature waiting to vanish. 

Too broke to afford cold medicine to aid you with your congestion, it takes time before you can finally fall asleep. When you do, it grips you like a vice, pinning you down, spoon feeding you dreams you haven’t been able to see with the hours you’ve been pulling at work. They’re heavy, holding your head under water, threatening to suffocate you; but you need the rest. 

You dream of your mother. She’s folding your school uniform in the laundromat you use as common ground to meet Marco at. Washers swish water in their drums as dryer alarms chime the end of their cycle in terrible cacophony. Pristine white blouses become ruined with burgundy — her hands are soiled; covered with blood. She folds, and you sit and watch her, hands tangled in string, fingers unable to move. Each fold is done with purpose. Crisp. Effortless. Blouses, skirts, and ties stack up taller than her on the table, threatening to scrape the ceiling above. 

“Throw them away,” you say, voice too weak.

She does not look at you. 

“They’re ruined. Throw them away,” you say. 

She does not look at you. 

“Did I ruin them?” she asks. 

You blink. The string around your fingers tightens. You feel them turn cold as ice. Lack of blood. Festering wounds. Irritated nail beds. An extension of the sins trapped inside of you.

“It wasn’t you,” you say. 

Finally, she looks at you, and you flinch. 

“Who was it?” 

Fibers snap, and the string falls free from your hands. Fluttering, dainty; it lays on the floor in generous spirals. There’s so much blood on her shirt. You can’t look away. 

“You already know,” you choke out. 

She smiles. A toothy grin. Teeth perfect and whole, lips curling, but it’s not real. Her eyes are cloudy — her eyes are dead. Her smile is dead. Your mother is dead. Cold skin, colder gaze, coagulated blood on linoleum. Rotting. You still smell it: stale blood, cologne, and mint. It follows you everywhere. 

He follows you everywhere.

Your phone is under your pillow when you receive a call. Vibrations rattle through the cotton filling, yanking you out of your dream like you’re being pulled out from under water. For a moment, you think you’re home. Really home. Yet, the room is too cold, and you are too alone. Blinking the sand from your eyes, you shove your hand between comforter and mattress and yank out your phone to be met with a flashing screen. 

Incoming Call from Captain Jack Sparrow

You hit accept and bring the speaker up to your ear. “Hello?” 

“Chip!” Row’s voice purrs on the other end. “What are you up to?” 

“Uh…” you pause as you turn to lay on your back, eyes blankly glued to the ceiling. You forgot to turn the heat back on when you got home, and you swear you can almost see your breath. “...relaxing…”

“That’s a first. Hey, I’m stuck at the club, and I’m bored. John wanted to have a quaint evening together but caught up with work stuff. Wanna get dinner or something?” she asks. 

You sniff, and the pressure behind your eyes nearly doubles. “I… don’t think I’m feeling up to that tonight, sorry.” 

“Oh wow,” Row gawks. Her voice drips with concern, and you hear shuffling on her end. “Are you sick? You sound very… congested.” 

“Yeah, I got sent home from work. Must’ve caught a bug from… somewhere.” 

Row says something in response, but you can’t hear it. There’s nothing but ringing as you force yourself to sit up and hack up snotty phlegm, trying not to choke on it as it comes up. Acidulous liquid coats your tongue, and you wince. Vile. Why can’t you ever have anything that tastes sweet? Something easier to stomach than an unwanted tongue or blood? 

“Chip?” 

Row’s voice brings you back to the present — back to your cold apartment with frigid sheets and your pounding headache. There’s no reason for your tears. Maybe it’s from your cold. Maybe it’s because you dreamed of your mom. Or maybe it’s just because you’re sad, and you have been for a while. You’re just not able to hold it back anymore. 

“Do you want to spend the night with John and I?” she finishes. 

Lips curling in, you try your best to hold back a sob. “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

“Lovely. Riley’s driving. We’ll be there soon, okay?” 

An attempt is made at making yourself look somewhat presentable, but it’s hard to make art when the canvas is crumbling. Nothing can cure you of the red irritation plaguing your scleras, nor the constant sniffing from congestion. You make do with fresh clothes and a washed face before shoving a few necessities in an overnight bag. Simple. Small. Something that won’t take up much space. 

When Row arrives, it’s a very unceremonious occasion. Gentle greetings. A pitiful look. There is no mention of how cold it is, or how the place looks sparsely lived in. She’s beautiful in her coat with pristine hair and flawless makeup. Perfect for a quaint dinner with a friend. You feel bad for being sick; she seemed thrilled to eat with you. 

Simon waits for both of you in front of the building in a sleek, black car that you’re surprised he can fit into. Terribly appropriate; something that would look perfect parked in front of John’s club, yet is now being used to transport you, a pathetic, ill woman, to her friend's house as if you’re nothing more than a child. 

It isn’t until you find your seat in the back that you realize just how long you were sleeping. Dusk pulls its cimmerian shadow over the sky, obscuring the streets in pale streetlights as Simon pulls into traffic. You’d gotten home around noon. Nearly a whole day wasted with sleep.

Little is said between the three of you as you struggle to stay conscious. The consistent, gentle hum of the car’s engine is better than any lullaby that you can recall. A siren’s song. A gentle hand on your back. Head bobbing and swaying with the turns of the road, you listen to whatever Simon has droning on the radio; some sort of rock station that plays so quietly you almost can’t hear it at all. Every now and then you catch his eyes in the rearview mirror glancing at you like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t keep watch over you. 

It seems he’s still taking Row’s request to heart.

As the car approaches the house, Row digs into her bag where she quickly shuffles through a small, periwinkle wallet. She fishes out some cash before handing it to Simon as he parks. 

“Here,” she whispers, though you can still hear her. “Get her some medicine, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mutters in reply. 

Before you know it, you’re tucked into a quiet guest room on the second floor of Row’s home. Heat radiates from the baseboards, yet your muscles tense and ache in a shiver. To combat this, Row has found every spare blanket and duvet she can find and tossed them on top of you like a heaping pile of laundry. At first, she had recommended throwing them in the dryer to help warm them up further, but you reject it. You hate making her go through any more effort than needed on your behalf. 

Still, she refuses to leave you as you curl into a ball, face pressed against her side as she sits on top of the covers next to you. Row always smells lovely. Fresh rosewater and lavender. You’re enveloped by her scent as she rubs a hand along your back, but it’s muted. The considerable amount of blankets only allows you to feel the ghost of her touch. 

“How long has this been going on?” she asks tenderly.

You shrug. “Day before yesterday, I think.” 

She pouts with a huff, hand ceasing movement as she silently chastises you. “And you were still trying to work?” 

“I have to,” you mumble against her. 

A terrible quiescence soaks the room. Everything hurts, and you want to rest, but you know that won’t come soon. Not with Row’s concern eating her alive — a vicious plague ripping through her heart. You can hear the beasts feasting on her marrow even now. 

“I’ve heard you and Riley have been getting close,” Row prompts like she’s about to spill the daily gossip. A change of subject. A way to ease you into what she really wants to talk about. “Visiting him at the club, then?” 

The club. Andrei. Spilled pasta in an alleyway. Marco stealing away more parts of you had made you forget about how you ended up in that mess in the first place. The blade of Andrei’s knife glints just as brightly in your mind as it did that night, and you cover your urge to puke with a well timed cough. You wish she wouldn’t bring it up, but it’s a good sign. It means Simon was true to his word. 

“Just to deliver food. He kept fixing stuff at my apartment. Had to pay him back,” you explain like a broken record. 

Lips stretch over ivory teeth as Row shifts next to you. “That so? Sounds like he likes you.” 

“Or maybe he’s just doing the job you assigned him,” you reply bluntly. 

Row doesn’t tense at your insinuation, but she does sigh as she settles back against the headboard. “Thought he was better at keeping secrets.” 

“I figured it out on my own,” you claim, stuffy voice unable to land the plosives of your consonants. 

She chuckles amicably as she looks down at you. Eyes closed, you’re nearly asleep, and you would have been if it weren’t for her conversation. 

“Well, you were always the smart one. Still, I won’t retract my statement. Riley’s had a lot of… partners but he never lingers around anyone like he does with you,” she insists. 

“Can’t entertain that,” you say. There’s a sour stoicness to your tone; too tired to be annoyed yet yearning for silence. “I’ve got work.” 

Another stillness — a suffocating one. Row’s smile has long vanished as her lips press together tartly. There you go, talking about work again. Like you can’t stand to do anything else. Like you’ll die without the money.

“Chip… you know that if you need help you can always ask, right?” she prods carefully. 

Help. You think of that word, and a sour cordolium rips through your chest. Asking for such a thing from someone is out of the question. You made that deal with yourself ages ago. Besides, you’ve been doing plenty well all on your own. 

“I don’t… I don’t need help, I just miss my mum,” you admit. 

You feel the moment when the room freezes. It’s when Row looks down at you, doleness unleashed in her gaze. Bringing up your late mother was a mistake, but she’s all you can think about after that dream. You wonder if you’ll ever have a normal dream of her again — fresh, normal, and void of all blood. A dream where she smiles and it’s not dead.

“I’m sorry,” is all Row can say. 

“Me too.” 

When Simon returns, you’re fast asleep. Row can hear the sound of his boots on the floor from a mile away; purposefully making his existence known as he opens the door to the only room with the light on. His eyes land on you, form curling into your friend like you’ll fall through the bed without her. He approaches the bed and holds out the bag for Row to take, and the very first thing she finds is every bit of cash she had given him to buy the products in the first place. 

Instead of chastising him, she rummages through the rest of the items; NyQuil, sudafed, Vicks, various soups and electrolyte drinks. It’s a variable feast to fight off your cold. Row looks up to poke fun at the man — at this raging chink in his armor — but she loses all words when she sees the way his hand presses against your forehead. He watches you with gentle devotion as your shoulders rise and fall with your breaths, congestion causing you to quietly snore. You do not stir awake, but she watches your brows furrow when he pulls away. 

“She’s got a bad fever,” he concludes quietly. “She looks exhausted. Dehydrated.”

“Yeah. She’s been overworking herself too much. Hasn’t been resting or healing like she should,” Row concurs. 

Fragile silence breaks as you breathe, airways too clogged for you to sleep peacefully. Simon and Row stare down at you for a moment, each of them considering the circumstance. Her lips press tightly together in thought before she carefully slides away from you, leaving your coiled form. She sets the bag of medicine and supplies on the foot of the bed before facing Simon with crossed arms. 

“Can I talk to you before you leave?” she requests. 

Simon answers her with a curt nod before they exit the room, lights off and door shut tight behind them. Row’s heart pounds away in her chest as it fights against the tightness of her ribs. It’s an ever constricting cage. Relentless. Vile. She ensures that she’s not facing Simon once they traverse down the stairs and make it to the landing on the bottom floor. 

“Chip is… really scaring me,” Row breathes, and she feels her voice crack nearly as bad as her heart. “I’m more than a little concerned or worried now she… she’s always been something of a workaholic, but this is different. It feels like she’s trying to run away from something and she’s just, I don’t know, keeping something buried inside of her. Pushing away any help anyone tries to offer her. I’m terrified she might hurt herself.” 

“Hurt herself?” Simon repeats in disbelief. “She done somethin’ like that before?” 

“No, not that I know of, it’s just…” 

The words die as Row’s lips press tightly together once again, and she finally forces herself to look at Simon. He’s nothing but a stone — this immovable being who won’t be swayed by anything physically or emotionally. She steadies her breath as she wills away the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I’m going to tell you this because I trust you,” she says, gaze attempting to harden. It’s a silent vow. A demand that he not repeat any of the words she’s about to speak.

“‘Course,” Simon nods. 

Row swallows the guilt in the back of her throat. 

“Chip’s parents are dead. They have been for a while. First it was her dad, and then her mom. My dad was the chief working the cases of their deaths. It wasn’t… from natural causes. She holds a lot of guilt and she gets in a bad headspace over it, and I think that’s a bit of what’s happening and… it’s worse than I’ve ever seen it before. And, I don’t know, maybe it just seems worse because she’s sick but… fuck, Simon, the way she talked about her mom just earlier, I swear to god I nearly cried.”

Crisp eyeliner marks the edges of her eyes, yet it smudges as Row banishes the tears from her vision. Still as ever, Simon watches carefully and without judgment as she gathers herself together in order to finish. 

“She needs to talk to someone about it but I don’t think she wants it to be me. There are many things I think she would tell me, but there’s no way she’d give me the whole story,” Row concludes. 

Confusion clouds Simon’s stern gaze, and he shifts on his feet. “What, you’re thinkin’ she’ll tell me and not you?” 

“Yes.” Her reply is speedy and sharp; a warning. No one knows you better than her. “She carries guilt for many things. Some things I know she won’t want to tell me.” 

Something is off — Simon can smell the stench of it from a mile away. He knows better than to question Row, as she seems very convinced that this is the true issue at hand, but there’s an uncomfortable trepidation that hangs somewhere in the balance of it all. A picture half developed. The brittle edge of a cliff. It’s the same feeling that afflicted him the night he fought Andrei in the alleyway — a deja vu that screams trouble if he even attempts to entertain it. 

“Please,” Row begs. “You don’t have to do anything crazy, I just don’t want her to be alone. Swear to me you won’t let her be alone.” 

Another deal. Another oath. Simon has always been a protector, in some way. A tool which one uses to bludgeon. He doesn’t know if he can be gentle. He knows he’s certainly not palatable. But he thinks of your sleeping form in the VIP room after the tussle with Andrei, and the heat of your fever against his hand, and he thinks he’d at least like to try. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures her. 

Nodding, Row attempts to strengthen her resolve with a deep breath. Frayed nerves still poke out of her skin, completely wired with worry. It sparks and fizzles, yet she still glances back up the stairs, as if she can feel the aura of exhaustion seeping out of the bedroom. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice hardly a whisper as she looks back at him. “Truly, I appreciate it.” 

“Can’t do everythin’ on your own,” he says. 

She scoffs playfully. “Tell Chip that.” 

Once the front door locks shut behind Simon and the house is still and quiet, Row sneaks back upstairs. You’re hardly conscious when she gently urges you awake to press cough syrup to your lips, but you don’t complain. You never complain — not when there’s bitter liquid on your tongue; never when you should. Silent. Pliable. Once you’ve swallowed every last drop, you collapse back into bed, body weak and overheated; slick with sweat. 

She knows she should leave once your snoring starts back up again, but she can’t. There’s something to relish in how peaceful you are in this moment. Not working yourself to death. Not running from the grief that’s been strangling you since you were a child. For a moment, as you lay there in bed, Row gets to see you as you were when you were a kid. Quiet. Basking in the halcyon atmosphere that preceded the worst day of her life. 

Row recalls the movie you watched that night. How you giggled at the terrible graphics and corny writing. She remembers how your face squished against the cushions on the couch as you fell asleep. How her father covered both you and her with blankets before wishing you goodnight. You’ve grown so much since then. A fine woman who should be proud of herself. And she wants to shake you awake. Yank you out of sleep and scream at you that there’s nothing to be forgiven — nothing to punish yourself over. She doesn’t. 

Instead, she turns around and leaves, ensuring that the electrolyte drink Simon brought you is on the pillow next to you for when you wake up in the morning.

[mrsmothermaximoff]

Missed me?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Stepmommy Wanda x f!reader

Tags: Stepmom x stepdaughter, fluff, daddy issues, kissing, drinking, mentions of upcoming smut

Summary: Y/N's back from college and finds out her stepmother may have missed her just as much as she did

Dinner ended after a painfully long 2 hours and you helped Wanda finish up the dishes while you two caught up. "So, did you meet anyone special over there?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "No, not really. Just a bunch of people who wasted my time." Wanda paused briefly after putting a plate in the sink, "Who wasted your time?" The question felt more than casual, like she demanded an answer. "Just people I thought respected me, turns out they all thought I was a joke." She frowned at you, "I don't think you're a joke, my Y/N." That nickname always left your face burning. "Thank you Wanda, I missed you." She pulled you in for an unexpected hug, one that was so rudely interrupted by your father coming to grab his 9th glass of wine.

After the dishes were done your father left upstairs to do who-knows what, and you went to your room to watch a movie with Wanda. The two of you had established a tradition of late-night movie watching about a year ago. Every Thursday Wanda comes to lay with you on your bed and you watch some cheesy laughable movie while you try to hide your giggles from your father. It was always completely innocent, until today that is.

The movie started and you both had already started your fits of laughter before you even grabbed the popcorn. Wanda was always very hospitable, so she loved setting up a series of snacks for the two of you. The movies you always watched were full of cheesy jokes and dumb humor, but this time Wanda wanted to watch something a little but more serious, a romance.

The main characters had already kissed 9 different people only 10 minutes into the movie. "I don't understand how people do it." You commented, upset by the actions of the character. "Do what?" Wanda replied. "Make-out with a bunch of random people all the time just for fun. I don't understand it. Why can't people just love one person forever? And only that person?" She began rubbing your arm softly at that last part. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden action. "Mhm" She agreed quietly. "M-maybe they're just lonely." You said trying to regain your thoughts. She stopped at your words, "Do you kiss a lot of people when you're lonely?" Her voice sounded softer, sadder, something you almost never hear from her. "No, but I might try it." You joked with a sad laugh, "I felt so lonely at school, for so long, I don't want to feel lonely anymore." She got quiet, when you looked up at her she was looking at you, focused. Her left hand gently caressed your head, while her right rubbed circles on your stomach. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She did it again, and again, you anxiously waited for what she was trying to say. What could she have to say that would take this much effort? "Let me be the one you love forever, my Y/N," She whispered so boldly. "the one you always kiss, the one who kills your lonely, the one who makes you feel special every time you think you aren't." She paused, "I love you."

Your eyes filled with tears, and she pulled you into her to steal them with her lips. She softly kissed every tear that fell while she silently hoped you felt comforted by it. When they stopped falling she pulled away. "Wanda, I-" Her expression grew disappointed and saddened. "It's okay Y/N, I understand this is an interesting situation, you don't have to-" You practically threw yourself onto her smashing your lips together again. You heard her sniffle and you quickly pulled away. "Wanda?" She smiled and sniffled back more cries, "You're everything to me Y/N, I've loved you for so long and now you're finally mine." You smiled smugly back at her, "Well, there's still one thing you haven't claimed yet." She looked at you confused, "What?" You signaled for her to get closer, "my virginity."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aemond x Baratheon daughter!reader. They are planning teh wedding and reader hears that there will be a bedding ceremony on the night of their marriage. She talks to the queen about it but she can’t do shit. She gets anxious and Aemond notices it so he ask why and she tells him that she’s uncomfortable about the bedding ceremony so Aemond personally asks Viserys to not have one

Warnings: arranged marriage, mention of bedding ceremony

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When the prince Aemond set foot in Storm's End and offered to take one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters in a marriage pact in exchange for swords and banners alongside the Greens, you didn’t know a bedding ceremony would be part of the pact. You had been flattered when the prince chose you over your sisters. The idea of being ‘sold’ to another Lord in marriage always made you uneasy, but the prince was tall, handsome, and kind to you. 

Moons later, as you were discussing the preparations of your and Aemond’s wedding, you found yourself wishing he had taken one of your four sisters.  

‘’A bedding ceremony?!’’ you repeated, feeling your stomach churn at the thought of having intercourse with spectators watching. 

You tried to not think too much about it, telling yourself that if you closed your eyes during it, it would pass fast. But come the week of the wedding, it was all you could think about. 

Shortly after your arrival in King’s Landing, you requested to speak to the Queen. Mayhaps she could do something about it?

‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I do not wish to do…that, your Grace.’’

If you had voiced your complaint to your father, you doubted he would have cared. A bedding ceremony was not embarrassing for the man. Quite the contrary, he was praised during the act. But the Queen was a woman. You hoped she would understand you, or at least have some compassion. 

The Queen sighed as she sat on the camel-back couch before you, knowing the mortifying experience that is the bedding ceremony. Especially for a woman. ‘’Unfortunately, it is a Westerosi wedding tradition. I’m afraid I cannot do anything about it, sweetie.’’ 

‘’A perverted tradition...’’ you whispered, not thinking she would hear you.

‘’I agree,’’ she said softly, her eyes filled with empathy. ‘’Unfortunately, we must submit to men's perversion.’’ Her words hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth that neither of you could escape.

A public defloration was something that — some — people enjoyed. Including your father. Lord Borros needed proof that the marriage had been consummated before sending his men to the Greens. He didn’t want to give them his men and get tricked in return. 

The evidence of the growing affection between you and Aemond wasn’t sufficient.  

Speaking of Aemond, he came knocking on your door after his afternoon duties. 

‘’Come in.’’ 

Usually, seeing him put a smile on your face, but today, you didn’t bother to open the door. You stayed sitting by the large window giving on the gardens, your eyes casted on your lap as you fidgeted with a thread from your dress. 

Stepping inside, Aemond frowned, seeing you sitting by yourself. ‘’I apologize for not coming to greet you sooner. I was held back,’’ he explained briefly, not wanting to bore you with the details of his duties.

‘’All is good, my Prince,’’ you said flatly.  

Aemond walked over to you, suspecting by your tone that something was upsetting you. He sat beside you and gently, he covered your hands with his, stopping your anxious play with the thread. ‘’What is it that is upsetting you, my love? Is it the wedding?’’ he asked, noticing the tension that seemed to wrap around you like a suffocating cloak. 

You shook your head. The wedding itself was a moment you were looking forward to — truly. It was the hours that followed that made your anxiety spike to unbearable levels. 

All these pairs of eyes on your naked body, observing — and judging. It made you sick. 

‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I…I’m already scared of the bedding itself,’’ you confess, your voice small and insecure. ‘’I do not want to make my first time a spectacle.’’ 

Aemond nodded, understanding. ‘’I’m not comfortable about this either. But it is part of my duty as husband.’’ 

‘’I spoke to your mother about it. Her Grace said there is no possibility of getting out of it…’’ A single tear slipped down your face, the sight pinching at Aemond’s heart. 

‘’Have you spoken to your father? Mayhaps he—’’ 

‘’My father requests it.’’ 

Aemond brought your hands to his lips, kissing them. ‘’I’ll speak to mine. Not to compare, but he holds more power than yours.’’

—

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[eveningepiphany]

need | h.s oneshot

summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.

warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!

a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍

———

At college, things happen, and they happen fast.

One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.

Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.

It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.

And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.

It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”

“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.

He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”

“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.

One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.

It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.

“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.

His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.

A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.

“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.

Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”

“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.

“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.

“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.

“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”

“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”

He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”

“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”

“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.

“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”

“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.

“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.

He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”

He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.

“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.

“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.

“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.

“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.

Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.

He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.

“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”

You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”

“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.

You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.

He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.

You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.

He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.

An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.

“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.

“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.

His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.

“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.

You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.

“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.

A wrong move and he will use it against you.

“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.

“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.

You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.

He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”

“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”

His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.

The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.

“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.

Everything is in the fine print around here.

You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.

His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.

He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.

Not making a move until you cave against him first.

He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.

Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.

Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.

Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.

You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.

He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.

Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.

Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.

This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.

There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.

Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.

Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.

Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.

Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?

He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.

You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”

Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.

A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.

And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.

Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.

At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.

You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…

Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.

Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.

The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.

His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.

His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.

But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.

Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.

Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.

It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.

You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”

He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.

You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.

It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.

And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…

“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.

Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.

“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.

“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.

But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.

“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.

“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.

The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.

Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.

Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.

As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.

He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”

His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.

“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.

Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.

“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.

His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.

It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.

Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.

There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.

You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.

His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.

“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”

It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”

A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.

His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.

Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.

It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.

Need, need, need.

That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.

“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.

He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”

The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.

“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”

“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.

He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.

“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.

The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.

“Yes, just do it, please.”

He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.

The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.

He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.

“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.

“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”

His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.

“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.

He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.

The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.

It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.

“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”

He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.

You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.

Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.

Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.

“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”

“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.

His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.

A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.

“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.

Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.

“More, Harry.”

A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”

“Need you inside of me.”

When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.

“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—

“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”

His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.

“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.

“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”

“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”

“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.

There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.

Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.

“I’ve got a condom.”

“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.

“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”

You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”

“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.

“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”

“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”

You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”

He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”

“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.

“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.

He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.

His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.

You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.

Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.

Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.

“Fuck Y/N…”

“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”

He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”

He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.

Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.

“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”

You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”

“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.

You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.

He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.

“Harry, Harry please.”

He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.

“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.

“You.”

He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”

“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”

There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.

“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.

“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”

Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.

He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.

You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.

“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.

“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.

“Please, want you to ruin me…”

Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.

He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.

He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.

“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.

He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.

His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.

“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.

“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.

“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.

Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”

“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.

“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”

“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”

“Mouthing you off, huh?”

He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”

“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”

“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.

“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.

And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.

Only time will tell…

———

a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

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[andersonfilms]

†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, sexual content (alluding), jock!abby, soft!abby, simp!abby, stubborn!reader, abby being a tease. part one.

—

jock!abby patience was wearing incredibly thin. she was always having to share you with ellie and she despised the situation just like the fucking brat — the one who demanded all your time and attention. okay, so maybe she was being a bit needy, and really the two of you hadn’t really said you were exclusive, but abby wasn’t with anyone else and didn’t want to be. she was stupidly sweet on you, and the sex was amazing. you were worth it for her to fight a little more.

jock!abby caved when it’s been an entire month and all she got were longing texts from you. saying you missed her but with classes, trying to keep your head above water, and ellie, you just didn’t simply have the time right now. although, abby blushed when you confessed she was important to you and you would see her soon. it’s the only time she’s thankful the interaction is filtered through a screen.

jock!abby called you the night before the game, she was supposed to be sleeping, or at least trying to, but with you on the forefront of her mind it seemed nearly impossible. she was embarrassed, your phone ringing four times, no answer. but on the fifth, you finally picked up. she thought you were ignoring her, avoiding her at the very least. but then you’re honeyed voice drips all over her heart and now it truly feels like the first day of spring.

“You should be sleeping, Abs. You have such an early day tomorrow and you need rest.” “I know, I just-” Abby took a moment to breathe, trying to calm herself enough to not reveal herself as a totally pathetic loser. “I’m so tense, baby. How am I supposed to sleep?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what has you so…tense.” You question suggestively, your voice lowering an octave. “Well, I haven’t see you in a month, so there’s that.” Abby hints, and you pick up on it immediately. “There’s a line of girls on this campus who would love to ease the tension for you. Pick one, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go far.” Your tone is bitter, thinking of her with someone else, but you don’t have much room to feel jealousy. Not when Ellie would feel like you stabbed her in the back if she found out about your late night rendezvous with Abby. “Stop it.” Abby barked. “What?” “You’re honestly going to make me say it? When you’re the one who’s been avoiding me? Really going to make me beg for it, baby?” You snap. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” It’s useless now. Abby has you pinned. Honestly, you’re not even upset about it. “You don’t have to lie me. I already know what you want.” “Fine, I’ll bite. What do I want, Abby?” “You want to not like me, right? It’d be easier wouldn’t it? I bet it would. But you like me, sure as hell love fucking me, and that can’t sit well. Not when I’m the enemy, not when I’m so evil and cruel.” You were silent, only heavy breathing could be heard on the phone. “Just tell me to fuck off, tell me I’m mean, tell me I’m the worst and I’ll hang up and you won’t have to talk to me again.” Abby continues, as if she needs to say anymore. “Be a good girl for Ellie, baby. It’s why you’ve deprived me of your pussy, huh? Tell me you don’t want to feel my lips, my tongue, my fingers. Be a good fucking girl and say it.” You were biting your lip, a moan threatening to escape. Pathetic. “I-I don’t, this isn’t…” You choke up, and god you can practically see her grinning. “You don’t want me?” Abby teased. “It’s….god, please Abs.” “You fall asleep in my arms, but then ditch before I can wake up. You don’t wanna see me but text me for weeks how much you miss me. You’re going to have to do better than that. Tell me what you want.” You’re trying to get something out, anything but you can’t seem to form a thought when Abby keeps going on and on, your cunt clenching every time you hear her voice. You’re forgetting why you’ve kept your distance in the first place. “I wanna make you feel good, help with the tension. Baby, please let me.” She finally breaks you, but the both you are smiling and Abby’s light laughter edges into the small cracks of your heart. “Mmmm, baby. Tell me how good it feels to be fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of my voice. Don't even bother lying this time.”

jock!abby thinks about your breathy moans, the wet sounds of your cunt bouncing through the mic and into her ears. she loves hearing you moan her name out, you’re so desperate for her. so willing to be whatever she wants you too even if it will cost you. abby feels bad, but then she sees you and suddenly she doesn’t care what kind of karma comes her way. if she gets to have you, isn’t it worth the cost?

jock!abby isn’t surprised when you’re knocking on her door three days later. it’s clear what you want or at least she thinks so. it’s almost midnight and abby thought you just want to fuck. she’d be more than happy to oblige. she’d pretty much do anything. you’re as sweet as they get, more than she deserves, but she takes it anyways.

jock!abby catches you with her unwavering strength, your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms locked around neck. you’re whispering how bad you need her, how much you’ve missed her, how shitty your week has been, and the only thing getting you through was telling her all about it. so, she lets you. it’s foolish maybe, but abby can only think with her heart right now, and it really wants to be with you.