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#and you know what they say about assuming
satoruxx · 2 days
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?
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toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.
normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.
but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.
toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.
his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.
toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”
“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.
“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.
“it’s not my fault!”
“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”
you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”
“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”
“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.
“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”
another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”
he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.
“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.
“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.
“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”
“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.
“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”
you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”
his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”
he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.
“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”
you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.
“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.
“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.
“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.
you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”
“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.
“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”
toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”
“yeah but—”
“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”
his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.
“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”
you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.
“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.
“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.
“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.
“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.
but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.
1K notes · View notes
povlnfour · 3 days
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.
genre: comedy, fluffy
authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!
*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
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tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others
landonorris practicing safe driving
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user you are so unserious sir
user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC
user no clue but she’s CUTE
oscarpiastri @/fia look here
landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met
user it’s giving meet cute
user i’d read a fic on it
yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR
landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED
user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???
user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others
yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!
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user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN
user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms
bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead
yourusername can you blame me
user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that
friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days
user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶
user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now
twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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[captions:
photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!
photo 2: :D
photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]
texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris and 11,276 others
yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place
👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris
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user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???
bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles
landonorris seconded
user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?
user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others
landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races
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user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped
user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?
user my heart is shattering already
mclaren 🧡
user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE
texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚
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[transcript:
o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race
l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!
o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!
l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?
o: stop deflecting!
l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!
o: so how are things going now?
l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah
o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—
l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 203,467 people
mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?
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user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do
mclaren 👀
user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip
oscarpiastri you love me for it
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?
oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!
user what on earth is going on…
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others
yourusername lately :)
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user you are so ! gorgeous !
user i can see why lando is obsessed
user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️
oscarsgf pretty girl!!!
yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!
user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???
mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡
landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
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an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 287,456 people
mclaren it’s race day🫡
view all comments
user WHO IS THE GIRL
user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS
user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N
user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER
user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE
user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others
yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?
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user OH MY GOD FINALLY
landonorris i will hit you with my car again
yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?
landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast
yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit
user i love them. i love them so much.
oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates
landonorris leave this comment section now
yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others
landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services
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user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN
user new fav couple fr
oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me
user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER
user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf
oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well
oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing
yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me
landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel
mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?
landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there
———————
a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!
in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)
let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍
for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca
tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia
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sansaorgana · 2 days
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— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VIII)
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART SEVEN
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — Giedi Prime celebrates Feyd-Rautha's birthday and the hundredth kill in the arena. Meanwhile, na-baroness gets reminded by The Baron who pulls the strings and finds out unpleasant truth about the promise her aunt has given to the Bene Gesserit.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. I wasn't sure what titles Feyd's children would have but since his brother is a Count, I assumed his children would be C(o)unts and C(o)untesses. I mean, his eldest son would become na-baron but only after his father would become The Baron, I assume 🤔 Next chapter we go to Arrakis, babes!!! 🤭 Thank you for all your comments, reblogs and messages! 💕
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death, syringes, mentions of planned and scientifical breeding, blood pact
WORD COUNT — 6,670
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VIII)
You were laying on an examination table and staring at the black ceiling above you while the medic was busy with noting down some things and injecting you with vitamins, minerals and proteins. It was the day of Feyd-Rautha’s hundredth kill and his birthday but you hadn’t spent much time with him the past few days since he was restraining himself physically before the fight.
You still shared one bed with him, though. He wasn’t avoiding you as much as he had been the last time.
“How do you feel, na-baroness?” The medic asked and you smirked at him.
“Like you care about it,” you pointed out. “We both know you only care about the child.”
“I care about what I am being told to care about, my Lady. I follow orders,” he explained. “I asked na-baron the other day whether I should do everything to keep you in the best state possible or focus strictly on the child, na-baroness. He wanted me to ensure you would be alright,” he added and you tried your best not to show how surprised you were.
“He really said that?” You only asked.
“Well…” the medic looked down and laughed nervously, “he said that you might still be useful later, my Lady. Forgive my words.”
“The words are not yours, therefore you do not have to apologise for them,” you assured him. “Anyway, if I ordered for you to be killed, who would make sure I am alright?” You teased with a smile and he sighed with relief.
“So, how do you feel, na-baroness?” He repeated the previous question.
“I feel… different,” you told him. “I have these cravings…”
“Cravings are perfectly normal during pregnancy, my Lady,” he nodded his head.
“Yes, I understand. But recently I want to eat the same food as my husband although I still find it quite disgusting but… I still crave it. Feyd says it’s the child being whimsy but he is no medic…”
“It will pass,” the medic looked up at you and assured you. “The cravings will pass, my lady, after the pregnancy. Your husband is right about the child.”
“Other than that, except for feeling a little emotional at times, I do not experience any side effects of pregnancy. I don’t even feel sick in the mornings,” you told him.
“Yes, because I am trying my best to make this process go as smoothly as possible for you, my Lady,” he smiled and noted something down again.
“But…” you furrowed your brows, remembering something that had been worrying you lately. He looked up at you. “You see, during the celebration, I talked to my previous maids, perhaps you remember them. And they are pregnant, too. One of them told me the Harkonnen pregnancies are different and she warned me.”
The medic sighed and leaned back in the chair as he hesitated for a while whether he should explain this whole situation to you or not.
“There is no such thing as Harkonnen pregnancy, my Lady. We are humans just like you are,” he reminded you. “It’s the centuries of living on this heavily polluted planet that made us look the way we do and mutated some of our DNA but we are not of different species.”
“I understand,” you nodded. “Forgive me, I did not want to insult your culture.”
“Na-baroness does not have to apologise,” he bowed his head down slightly. “You see, our women are not very fertile because of the atmosphere on this planet. That is why our… medicine… has progressed so much. We needed to find an artificial way of ensuring population growth. The Harkonnen women – even boosted with injections – usually weaken a lot during pregnancies. But their bodies do not change much. When it comes to off-world women…” He hesitated once again and you sat up, listening very carefully. “Let’s say, your body treats your son as a foreign element. He is half Harkonnen – with the best genetic material from his father, of course – but your… clean and healthy body treats him as something polluted and poisonous. And what happens, my Lady, when you spill a drop of poison into someone’s drink?” He asked you.
“Diffusion,” you gasped and he nodded. Your heart skipped a beat. “So, the child is poisoning me?” You swallowed thickly as you asked. You could feel all your limbs go weak at the thought.
“No, na-baroness, not with me around,” he chuckled and shook his head. “But your former maids do not have such medical innovations, I’m afraid.”
“Will they die then?” You asked.
“No, they will not die. And their bodies might go back to normal some time after the pregnancy, once the blood gets rid of all the… toxins,” he added. “Forgive me, I did not mean to scare you, my Lady. And it brings me no pleasure to admit how truly poisoned our people are. It feels humiliating in a way.”
“So I have nothing to worry about?” You stood up and watched him carefully. He was visibly hiding something from you.
“Na-baroness doesn’t have to worry about the child taking away her strength, no,” he only said.
“What should I worry about then?” You raised your eyebrow at him, demanding an answer. You could see him panicking a little. He was the Baron’s loyal servant but you were being pushy and he was aware of the power you had recently gained. He couldn’t just lie to you so easily nowadays.
“I think you have been thinking of it, too, my Lady, of that possibility,” he whispered and you furrowed your brows. “Your mother, she… She died in childbirth, did she not? And everyone keeps saying how much you look like her, my Lady.”
“My mother did not die because she was weak in flesh,” you explained to him although you became nervous when he mentioned that. “She died because she was weak in mind. She couldn’t bear to live with my father in a loveless union. It killed her that on the day I was born he was with his pregnant lover. She died of sadness,” you informed him and he widened his eyes a little at that. You were aware that your explanation was not exactly very medically accurate.
“I can only say that I will try my best for the same thing not happening to you, na-baroness,” he stood up as well and bowed down, making you feel stupid for your outburst. Of course he was right. Your mother had died because she had lost too much blood.
She had died because of you.
Because of a child with a man she hadn’t loved. Because of a child she probably hadn’t even wanted in the first place.
Your whole life you had been imagining your life with her. How much she would love and cherish you. But what if she would not? Now, more than ever, pregnant with Feyd-Rautha’s son, you understood what your mother had gone through. She had been forced to give birth to you and she had paid the biggest price for it.
“I… I should leave now and prepare for the event,” you told the medic and he nodded at you and watched you walk out of the room.
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You walked through the dark corridor being led by the guards. You had been there before, a few days after your wedding, being taken to Feyd-Rautha preparing for his fight, scared of his reaction to see you disobeying him with the choice of your dress. These past few months, lots of things had changed. You walked confidently now with your head held high and waited for the guard to open the big, black doors in front of you.
You walked inside the room and spotted your husband in the middle of it, surrounded by the servants putting black paint stripes on his bare chest. One of the male servants was presenting the knives on a black, velvet cushion.
They all turned around to see you approaching them and you purposefully took your time while walking gracefully in a dress that was supposed to be one of his birthday presents. It was a mix of black latex – one of your new favourite fabrics – and black silk. Delicacy and vulgarity mixed together, wrapped around your curves and revealing just enough to let the imagination run free but not enough to actually reveal anything that belonged to Feyd-Rautha only. Your hair was loose but you wore a beautiful black diadem that had been a gift from one of the lords, given to you during the celebration feast thrown in your honour.
“Well, well, well,” Feyd’s eyes squinted at the sight of you as you stood right in front of him. You hadn’t seen him at all this morning because he had woken up very early to prepare. “I was just about to check the blade,” he pointed at one of the knives on the cushion. You saw terror in the eyes of the servants standing behind him.
Feyd reached out for the knife and balanced it a little in his hand before facing you and opening his mouth to show off his long tongue and licking the tip of the blade. You nearly gasped at the vulgarity of this act that made you ache in your core after a few days of not being touched by him at all. In your head, you imagined him dropping to his knees and burying his face right between your legs. It was making you feel dizzy to think of that and the tension between you two seemed to be under voltage.
But when you spotted his wrist tilting a bit, you already knew what would happen now.
“Tsk, tsk,” you hissed at him and he froze, confusedly looking at you. “It’s time to grow up, don’t you think?” You asked, teasingly. “Only spoiled little boys discard their toys so easily.”
You liked his bloodthirst and found it more than useful but you didn’t like to watch innocent slaves being killed for fun. You knew that it was not the custom of all Harkonnens to do that. A common lord would not kill so easily mostly because it would cost him money to get another slave. But Feyd couldn’t care less about the material aspect of it.
“Also, I do not understand why you decide to restrain yourself from fucking me but you can’t restrain yourself from killing before the actual fight in the arena. It makes no sense to me,” you added. “You need to be as railed up as possible.”
After a short while he lowered his hand and put the knife back on the cushion as the servants behind him sighed with relief.
“It’s not balanced properly,” he told the male servant. “Bring me another one, you useless sack of meat,” he ordered and the nervous man bowed down before hurrying out of the room.
“Good boy,” you praised Feyd, proud of yourself.
It was one thing to make him kill for you but it was another to stop him from killing.
“You want to weaken me,” he drawled through the gritted teeth. He was already railed up to the maximum and it was delicious to see him in such a state.
“Me?” You asked, playfully. “Far from that,” you explained. “I want you to be a rabid dog today, do you understand me?” You took a step forward to grab his crotch as your face remained inches away from his. The servants behind him widened their eyes and you felt a shiver going down his starved body. “Today is very important, my pet,” you whispered. “Do not disappoint me,” your hand squeezed him and let go as fast as you felt him hardening under your palm.
Feyd smirked at you.
“Rabid dog,” he only nodded, “for my Baroness,” he added and you felt a wave of pleasure crawling all the way through your skin.
You leaned in to cup his cheeks and place a kiss upon his forehead.
“Accept my blessing,” you breathed out, “and happy birthday, my darling”.
You took a step back and smiled faintly at him before bowing down slightly –  pure act of mockery after showing your unquestionable dominance – and walking away to leave the room to let him continue his preparations.
“I will make you proud,” you heard his voice when the guards opened the doors in front of you. To that, you gave no answer as you left the chamber and placed both of your hands protectively on your abdomen.
The truth was, he had no idea how important that fight could be for the both of you. Baron Harkonnen hadn’t spoken to you a lot the past few days and you had no idea if he had decided to listen to your advice or not. For a while you wanted to warn Feyd about such a possibility but you knew that it would only take away satisfaction and pleasure from him. And it was his birthday. He deserved his gift.
That is, if The Baron had listened to you.
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After being announced, you waved at the Giedi Prime citizens gathered in the arena as they cheered loudly at the sight of you. You gave them a wide but dignified smile before sitting on the chair next to the Baron’s and taking your binoculars from his servant.
“You will be pleased,” Baron told you as he watched you from the corner of his eye and puffed on his pipe.
“There are a lot of ways to please me, my Lord. Care to specify?” You teased and you swore, one of his eyes twitched at that.
“He will be given three Atreides soldiers that we kept imprisoned after taking over Arrakis. You might even recognise them,” Baron explained.
“I doubt,” you winced. “I never paid attention to soldiers,” you explained. “Not as individuals, I mean.”
“Well, you better pay attention to one of them now because he is not drugged,” Baron informed you and your heart skipped a beat at the revelation.
It made you both excited and terrified. You couldn’t show any of this to the Baron so you just nodded your head at him.
“If my nephew dies today, it will be on you,” he chuckled.
“It has no significance to you, does it? Your next heir is already in the making,” you pointed out sternly and caressed your womb. You dropped your formalities with him nearly at all because you felt that you no longer had to address him as my Lord. Not only you had advanced in his eyes in the ladder of his enemies but you also held the title of Duchess Atreides.
Oh, you had just realised. You really were Duchess Atreides now. And you would watch your husband murdering your own soldiers. That was dark, you had to admit. Baron still had his spirit.
“If my nephew turns out to be so weak to be killed today by a mid Atreides soldier, I am sure his son will be no better,” Baron’s voice got serious again and it caused a chill to go down your spine.
Well, you were trapped. Feyd had to win, otherwise you and your son would die, too. How stupid you had been to think that the Baron wouldn’t twist the game for his own gain.
“We will have to find a way to plant a better seed in your cunning womb then, my Baroness,” his eyes sparkled at you and then he brought the binoculars to his face and watched the arena.
You turned your head around to hide the way your body gagged at his words. You’d rather him to kill you than find a way to implant his spawn inside your womb, even if it would not even require touching him.
You took a deep breath in and watched Feyd entering the arena through your binoculars as the crowd cheered. What had you done…? Had you outplayed yourself? Would it be your end?
Your shaking hand squeezed your womb as if you wanted to comfort your son although he was too small to be stressed about it.
It’s going to be alright, you kept thinking, pretending you were talking to your child. Your father’s going to win it, my little one, don’t you worry.
You were so lost in the thoughts of stress and anxiety that your senses got numbed for a while and you came back to reality only when the whole arena was filled with a loud cheer as Feyd’s first opponent was killed.
You sighed with relief as he had only two to go now. You focused on the man who was not drugged and you realised that you indeed recognised him. He was an excellent warrior and it made you feel uneasy.
You tried not to look at the Baron at all but you could feel his eyes on you. And not only his.
You looked up through your binoculars and saw that on the balcony in front of you, the Bene Gesserit sisters were sitting together. Not only the local one but lots of them – hiding in the shadows behind their veils. Watching you.
You wondered if one of them was your aunt. Probably.
“Don’t you just hate them?” You fought your disgust and fear as you spoke up.
“Hm?” Baron asked.
“The Bene Gesserit,” you explained. “Their schemes and plans, they interfere with yours a lot, don’t they? Don’t you hate how much power they hold even over you?”
“Well, what would you propose to do with them? I can’t just throw them out,” he laughed at you.
“Why not? If I was The Baroness, I’d limit their influence in the Harkonnen systems,” you told him and he brought the binoculars down as the crowd cheered when Feyd dealt with another drugged warrior.
“Then perhaps you are not ready to become her yet,” Baron squinted his eyes at you.
“Why is that?” You brought your binoculars down as well and dared to turn your head around to face him as if you were accepting a challenge.
“You cannot reject customs so old and so common throughout the galaxy if you want to be a respectable House and not an outsider. I thought you’d know that, it’s basic knowledge,” he explained.
“I thought The Harkonnens were richer than the Emperor himself and with an army much bigger than his. Houses of such influence don’t have to care about the rules. They make them. I thought you’d know that, it’s basic knowledge,” you drawled.
If Feyd would win this fight, you would remain untouchable. If he would die, your life would be hell anyway. You had nothing to lose. You could speak to The Baron however you wished. At least your anger was telling you this and it was very tempting to listen to it.
But The Baron only chuckled at you.
“I like your fierceness. It is obvious you hold lots of hatred towards the Bene Gesserit but you cannot let your personal judgement overshadow the real situation. They can be useful,” he told you.
“I guess they can be,” you shrugged your arms and brought the binoculars back to your face.
“If it wasn’t for them, your dead body would rot in the Arrakis’ desert now,” Baron reminded you and you swallowed thickly.
You had other things to worry about now. Feyd was left alone with the undrugged Atreides warrior and he was struggling to win that one. You clutched on the edge of your chair with one of your hands as you watched him being nearly killed over and over. He was fighting back excellently but his opponent was more equal to him and his skills than you’d like him to be. You could see on the people’s faces that they all held their breaths.
But none of their lives were in as much danger as yours in the case of your husband’s death.
Your anxiety turned your hands cold and formed a gulp in your throat that was making you feel nauseous as you watched Feyd getting rid of all his cheating devices that were supposed to make him safe. He was full of adrenaline and wanted to show off – to make you proud. But he had no idea how much it all could ruin your life in the process.
“What is he doing?” Even Baron’s servant was shocked.
“Showing his worth,” Baron chuckled.
You wanted to scream at The Baron to make it stop and it was physically hurting you that you had to restrain yourself from doing so. You couldn’t show weakness but not only were you worried about yourself and your child but you had also just realised you were worried about your husband’s life.
It was an odd discovery but when you thought that you’d never be able to hear him call you pet or have him fuck you, you would miss it dearly. If you’d never be able to cup his angry face and watch it relax at your sweet cooing, you would be very upset.
It was pure torture to watch him fight now and struggle with the Atreides soldier. There was no way the Baron didn’t see the way your legs and arms were shaking. But it probably brought him nothing but pleasure.
When Feyd definitely killed the brave opponent and was announced a winner as he screamed in victory and raised his blade, you still couldn’t believe that it was happening for real. You needed a moment to go back to reality and when the cheers of Giedi Prime citizens reached your ears, you stood up abruptly. The people cheered even louder now at the sight of you and you approached the railing to look down at your husband.
You were aware that all binoculars at the moment were pointed at you so you tried not to show a hint of fear and nothing but pride. In Feyd’s eyes you spotted a sparkle at the sight of your satisfaction with his performance.
You turned around and passed the chuckling Baron without the word to reach the elevator as your guard followed you without a word. You wanted to be with your husband now.
It seemed like forever until the elevator was finally down and you hurried out of it to run through the dark corridor to reach the doors to Feyd’s chamber. On your way you spotted the Harkonnen servants dragging dead bodies of his opponents but you didn’t even flinch.
“Stay outside,” you ordered the guard and he nodded before you pushed the doors open and entered the room.
Feyd was standing there shirtless and smirking proudly at himself as the medic was tending his fresh wounds with some sort of liquid. You approached them and the medic bowed down at you as he moved out of your way.
You cupped your husband’s face and brought it down to press his forehead to yours. He was a bit taken aback by the aggressiveness of your moves.
“You did it, Feyd. You did it,” you felt tears streaming down your face and he furrowed his brows at your reaction. He grabbed your wrists and pushed you away slightly.
“You knew,” he only said and clenched his jaw. “You knew about that man not being drugged, did you not?” His pupils darkened. “What game are you playing? Trying to get rid of me with my uncle, huh? You want to be his little Baroness instead?”
“My Lord…” The medic tried to interfere seeing the way your husband was twisting your wrists to cause you pain. But Feyd only gave him a deadly glare.
Sometimes rabid dogs would bite their owners, too. You weren’t scared of him, though. He was confused and jealous.
“My darling, not only I knew but it was also my idea,” you told him and he froze to take a better look at your face. You smiled at him. “And now everyone on Giedi Prime respects you for the warrior you are. I have seen you train many times before, I thought the way your uncle gives you drugged warriors is humiliating to you,” you explained softly. “I couldn’t tell you before because it would spoil your fun. Happy birthday, Feyd,” you added.
He softened in an instant and let go of your wrists only to grab them again and bring them to his lips and shower them with hungry and sloppy kisses that would later leave the red marks. His kisses were never soft or gentle, you suspected he wouldn’t know how to kiss like that.
“Leave us,” you whispered almost inaudibly to the medic and he bowed down before walking outside the room.
When Feyd finished soothing your wrists, he pulled you closer to him and you placed a kiss on his forehead.
“You made me proud,” you told him and picked up the bowl of liquid the medic had left behind as you began to tend your husband’s wounds yourself. He shivered when your fingertip touched him gently for the first time and you shushed him quietly. “When you killed your harpies, your uncle caught me in an empty room and told me that the other lords call you weak now. I told him to give you a real warrior so the lords stop their whispers. But my real agenda was to show the nobility of Giedi Prime that you are a worthy successor,” you shared the details of your plan with him.
“What do you mean he caught you in an empty room?” Feyd’s jaw clenched.
“That is not important now, my pet,” you shook your head with a chuckle. Your fingers worked delicately and slowly on his smooth skin. You doubted anyone had ever touched him this way before.
“One victory like this is not enough,” he pointed out.
“I know. But now it’s going to be easier. We still have to be patient, though,” you looked up to meet his gaze. “Here, it’s done,” you announced and put the bowl away.
“You should leave before I ravage you,” he looked you up and down with so much hunger in his eyes that you felt as if you were already naked in front of him.
“You think I don’t feel the same after all these days of not feeling you?” You laughed at him. “Do it,” you dared him and his eyes widened. “I trust you won’t hurt me despite your starvation,” you teased.
Some part of you really trusted him. Perhaps because he was the only person in the world you could trust amongst the Harkonnens and you desperately wanted an ally.
Your plan would only work out if you had Feyd by your side.
“Later,” he shook his head, surprising you with the level of his self-discipline. “I can wait a few more hours but I will not risk the safety of my heir,” he explained.
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The birthday celebrations started but Feyd was not very excited about them. He had been way more interested in the celebration thrown for you and your son than about his own. He seemed to be bored and all the gifts presented to him were making him nod his head without any enthusiasm whatsoever. Birthdays were not celebrated as officially as other holidays on Giedi Prime so you were able to roam freely around the room and talk to people while he was doing his own thing. However, you were growing tired and exhausted. It was evening already and all the stress you had experienced earlier wore you out. 
You felt Feyd’s hands on your shoulders and you turned around to face him with a smile.
“I’m bored here,” he told you.
“It’s your birthday, you should be celebrating,” you caressed his cheek.
“I’d rather celebrate with you upstairs,” he smirked and you nodded softly. “I’ll go talk to my uncle now as he wishes to see me and you go to the bedroom and wait there for me,” he ordered and you leaned in to peck his lips. 
“Don’t take too long, I have more gifts for you,” you told him and his eyes sparkled as he nodded his head and walked away to go to his uncle.
You excused yourself using your fragile state and you left the dining room to go upstairs. Once again you were not guarded but this time you decided not to wander around the yet unexplored rooms and go straight to yours.
When you were about to reach the staircase, you heard someone else’s footsteps behind you. They weren’t as heavy as the usual steps of the Harkonnen guards or lords but they still made your heart sink in your chest. You turned around and spotted the local Bene Gesserit woman standing a few steps behind you. You wanted to sigh with relief but you were not stupid to think that her presence meant you were safe. Quite the opposite.
“What do you want?” You asked her.
“To talk,” she approached you and took her veil off. You were surprised to see that she was a regular woman like you were. You had never been able to spot that from behind the veil covering her face.
“Talk about what?” You gritted your teeth and she reached her hand out towards your womb. You hissed at her and grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“I mean no harm,” she assured you and pressed her hand to your abdomen for a while. Then she hummed to herself and took the hand away. “Impressive. Your aunt barely managed to convince the sisters to allow this union because your genes were not as strong as they wanted Feyd-Rautha’s children to have. However, I see that the Harkonnen medicine is progressing greatly,” she pointed out. “They brought the best out of you.”
“I don’t like the way you speak of me,” you snapped. “You don’t address me properly and you dare to insinuate my genes are not good enough to bear my husband’s offspring.”
Bene Gesserit smirked at you. She didn’t seem to care about your little outburst at all.
“However, it’s a boy,” she continued. “I mean, of course it is. I didn’t expect the Harkonnens to want anything else,” she added. “Your next one shall be a girl.”
“Excuse me?” You took a step back and clenched your jaw. “What I have next is my business. Mine and my husband’s, that is,” you placed your hand on your womb protectively.
“If you don’t give Feyd-Rautha a daughter, my Lady,” she emphasised ironically and you raised an eyebrow at her, “then I will.”
You nearly gasped at her insolence. Rage filled your whole body hearing her words. She threatened to lay with your husband? While she was inside your home?
“If you bewitch my husband, I will have you killed. I do not care about any of you,” you threatened her back.
“Your aunt promised us that you would be easy to control. As we both know, that is not true but we can let that slip. However, we will not give up on the promised daughter,” she explained calmly.
“Wh-what?” You stuttered out.
“Your aunt promised us that your first born daughter will be trained to become Bene Gesserit,” the woman answered and you felt a stinging pain in your chest.
Your aunt… whom you had never even met in your life. Of whom you had had no idea for most of your life. Yet she seemed to be the mastermind behind it all because of your grandfather’s sick ambitions to put his granddaughter on the Harkonnen throne. And your father… He passively had allowed that all to happen as Lady Jessica had cheered. 
“Is she here?” You barked at her. “My aunt? I want to talk to her.”
“The other sisters have left already, I’m afraid, na-baroness,” the woman told you. 
“If I have a daughter one day, I will not give her away to you witches,” you pointed your finger at her.
“There will be no need. She will stay here and I will train her,” she explained. “The Harkonnen countess would not be treated like a regular sister. Of course such powerful members have their privileges.”
“I still don’t want you near any of my children,” you told her angrily. “And I want you to stay away from Feyd.”
“You’re scared,” she smirked as she approached you, “because you know my poison is more effective than yours. I could really bind him to me in a way that is not accessible to you. You don’t hate us for witchcraft. You hate us because you’re not one of us,” she dared to whisper to you.
“I prefer holding less power but not being a blind follower of any idea nor force but myself and my own desires,” you answered proudly and straightened yourself.
You will obey me.
The loud and overwhelming voice boomed inside your head. You knew that voice very well. You had been growing up with it around.
“I will obey you,” you nodded and turned around to walk away but after a while you managed to fight this staggering sensation numbing your brain. “I will not,” you said.
“What did you say?” Bene Gesserit asked, surprised. You turned around to face her once again.
“I will not,” you repeated.
“How did you do that?” Her eyes widened.
“Growing up around Lady Jessica… You think I didn’t learn how to disobey your cursed voice?” You asked her with contempt. She didn’t have to know how much it costed you each time to be able to do that. You wanted her to think it was easy.
“That is impossible,” the woman shook her head. “You could not learn that by yourself.”
“Yet I did,” you shrugged your arms. “And no offence, but Lady Jessica was more powerful Bene Gesserit than you are.”
“Yes, she was,” she nodded. “That is why she was able to teach you this.”
“Teach me this?” You raised your eyebrow.
“Of course. Do you think you were able to master this ancient ability to fight The Voice by yourself? She had to teach you this. I only wonder why,” she hummed to herself.
Now you wondered, too. Perhaps some part of her wanted to protect you from whatever would come in the future. Perhaps some part of her cared about you.
And you hated to be grateful to her for anything but now you were.
“I might give you a daughter next,” you told the woman in front of you. “Having a powerful Bene Gesserit as my daughter can be useful,” you remembered Baron’s words. “But if you try to pit her against me or send her away to procreate with some gross lord far away from here, that is when I will intervene and you will regret this, witch,” you warned her.
She nodded.
“And if you touch my husband…”
“With all respect, I’d rather not touch him if I don’t have to, so just give us a daughter next,” she chuckled nervously.
You smiled at her. At first you were surprised hearing her words but then you remembered that most people did not see Feyd the way you were seeing him now. To them he was scary, unhinged and temperamental and his presence was deeply unsettling.
You left her in the corridor and went upstairs to your bedroom. You regretted not seeing your aunt because there were lots of things you’d love to tell her.
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Feyd joined you in the bedroom not long after. You were dressed in a nightgown already and sitting on the chair pulled away from his desk.
“What took you so long?” You asked him when the doors closed behind him.
“He gave Arrakis to me,” your husband informed you and stood above you as your eyes sparkled.
“What? He did?”
“Apparently Rabban is humiliating himself over and over there and embarrassing our family,” Feyd gritted his teeth. “I will be named the new Governor soon.”
“Well, that’s a gift I cannot possibly beat,” you teased and beckoned him over as he fell to his knees to be able to face you.
Feyd put his hands on your thighs as he opened them with his long fingers and you chuckled softly at him.
“Such an eager pet, aren’t you?” You teased him and he looked up. “That gift has to wait. Give me a knife,” you asked him.
He was confused but he handed you a short blade he was always carrying with himself.
“It’s so pretty,” you took a better look at the dagger in awe. It was really an excellent piece of work.
“Keep it,” your husband breathed out.
“But it’s your birthday, not mine,” you caressed his cheek gently.
“You need a weapon, too. I want you to keep it, just in case. When I’m not around and my uncle catches you in an empty room… For example,” he insisted.
“I don’t even know how to use it.”
“It’s a knife,” Feyd snorted. “You just stab.”
“Well, I guess. You can teach me more when I’m not with child anymore,” you proposed.
“I can,” he nodded and leaned in to place a kiss on your womb.
“So you do know how to kiss like that,” you teased and he looked caught off guard.
“I did it like you always do it… Did I do something wrong?” He asked and you swore, you could call him adorable in a way. You couldn’t believe it was the same man who had been slaughtering his enemies in the arena earlier.
“Aw, I’m only teasing. Give me your hand,” you ordered and he raised his arm as you slit one of the lines on his exposed palm. He didn’t even wince, so used to the pain much greater than this one. And he didn’t question anything you were doing either. It was almost sad, the way he obeyed you.
You watched his blood spilling down his pale skin; so dark and thick – it was nearly black and of a slimy texture. Then you cut yourself the same way, trying not to hiss out of pain as your own blood spilled, looking much healthier than his poisoned one.
You put the blade away and held his bleeding hand with yours to squeeze it tight. Feyd looked deep into your eyes, understanding the meaning of this gesture.
“I am yours and you are mine,” you told him. “Forever from now on. Your blood is my blood, my blood is your blood. We are one,” you whispered. “You do not exist without me and I do not exist without you. Together we will build our empire,” you continued and he nodded with a very serious expression on his face. There was pure admiration in his eyes, though. “We will not allow him to come between us.”
“We will kill him,” Feyd added angrily and you nodded at him. He was so eager.
“And everyone else in our way,” you assured him. “I shall be your anchor.”
“I shall be your blade,” he promised and you leaned down to join your lips together and mix your saliva like you mixed your blood.
You let go of his hand and straightened yourself, breaking the kiss. Feyd however brought your palm to his mouth and began to lick your wound as he drank the blood that spilled. Like dogs would lick their owners’ wounds.
“If I had known he’d give you Arrakis, I’d come up with a better gift,” you joked. Feyd looked up at you with your hand still pressed to his mouth, now stained with your blood.
“Nothing he’s ever given me can match you, my Baroness,” he confessed.
You smiled at him lovingly. It was a sight no one else in the world could admire – Feyd-Rautha on his knees, obedient and in awe. You finally opened your thighs in front of his face to give him what he had been waiting for since this morning. Most likely the gift he had been anticipating the most.
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They Wouldn't Understand - LN
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando starts dating y/n, and despite his red flags, y/n loves him. Lando's not going to let her listen to anyone who tries to get in the way. What do they know?
Theme/warnings: toxic relationship (with Lando), manipulation, purposeful isolation, jealousy, gaslighting, possessiveness, controlling behaviours, smut ;)
naive/innocent/sweetheart!reader
No part 2 requests please - Also bc of this not being my usual content I haven't put the taglist on just incase someone who usually reads my fics would rather not read darker content
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Lando wasn't always like this. At least not in his head. He'd watched others speak to y/n and tell her to be careful, to not jump into the relationship head first.
He's only relieved she didn't listen.
By the end of the first 2 weeks he'd got her away from her meddling friends and to Monaco. They're thankfully entirely out the picture after an argument which she spend defending him, then in tears she cuddled up to him while saying she didn't understand and that they just didn't know him like she does.
It's not as if Lando doesn't love her, in fact he loves her so much he doesn't want anyone else involved. Y/n is the centre of his world and he doesn't want anyone to threaten that.
"Baby, I know it's hot. But you can't walk around the paddock like that." Lando states with a frown as he sees her choice of shorts which very nearly show the apex of her thigh and a bralette.
"Really?" Y/n mumbles looking down then sighing.
"You know I just want to protect you...not everyone is going to look at you and think nice thoughts like me...I'd love to see you walk out like that, if I knew other people wouldn't judge you for it." He also hates the thought of any other many seeing more of her body if he can help it.
"I know. I'll change." Y/n smiles lightly genuinely believing that Lando is just protecting her.
Y/n changes into a light summer maxi dress, it might show some of her chest, but Lando will compromise that and maybe he can get her in a jacket later.
"I love this dress. You look beautiful." Lando smiles gently kissing her before he checks the time and sighs. "Time to get going."
-
Lando and y/n walk through the paddock, Lando keeping a tight hold on y/n and walking with her almost pressed against him. His body very much blocking largely blocking the view of y/n from the front as they walk.
He always wants her close and he always wants to hide her as much from cameras, fans, other team personnel and especially the media.
There's been a few unappreciated comments saying y/n is out of Lando's league or she's not his type by the likes of Alex and George. Not meaning any harm in saying it, but Lando would've liked to throttle them both for the comments. Then there's fans online, and actually they do talk about y/n in such a vulgar way that Lando wants to genuinely protect her from them.
"Lando." Zak greets then leaning around to smile at y/n who is smiling slightly peaking out from behind her boyfriend. "Hi, y/n."
"Hi, Zak." Y/n smiles stepping out a little while Lando clears her throat and kicks into a conversation about the weekend.
Lando won't fault y/n for talking very briefly with Zak. He's not even very fond of her talking to Oscar or Jon unless she's feeling entirely rude for ignoring them. But really he tries to minimise her interactions with anyone else in the entire paddock. Most of the paddock just assume she's quiet.
"Right, we're just getting to my room." Lando states at the end of the conversation when Zak asks what they're doing first. He shifts his hands from holding hers to holding her waist as he pulls her in front of him.
As soon as they get to his drivers room Lando sighs pulling her back into himself and kissing her neck.
"Alright, baby. Where do you want to place yourself for the day?" Lando asks while he smirks a little at her.
"I don't know. Where do you want me?"
"You can just stay in here if you'd like. Out the way so you're not getting trampled by crowds or bothered by anyone." Lando states watching her try to hide her disappointment that he is suggesting she just stay in the unit. "I'll come back and get you later when I've got the seat fitting in the garage. Ok?"
"Ok." Y/n nods, smiling when he kisses her.
"You ok?"
"Yeah. I'm good." Y/n confirms then swallowing. "Thursdays always good quickly."
Lando nods stroking his thumb over her waist for a moment, his gaze almost burning through her.
"You know I'd bring you out to watch us do all the media, but everyone is rushing around and getting in the way and I don't want you getting hurt. Especially with fans, they might try to hassle you and I don't want that. Not after the last time."
The last time being when some fans decided to tell her exactly what they'd do in order to treat her better than Lando does. In ways that had them thrown out and y/n in tears. It worked perfectly into Lando's hands for her latching onto him for safety, but he was too caught up in his rage and doing everything to have the fans ban for what they said. He only noticed after he'd calmed down that y/n had been desperately holding onto him.
Some fans really don't like Lando, and y/n is just collateral damage of that dislike. Plus she's gorgeous and Lando is more than aware he can't let her slip out his grasp. That's why he is so protective of her the way he is.
-
Lando smiles as he lifts y/n up and puts her into the cockpit of the car and then pushes his helmet down over her head.
She changed into some borrowed joggers and a McLaren t-shirt since she couldn't get into the cockpit wearing her dress and Lando is definitely not mad about seeing her in a number 4 McLaren top and much more covered up.
"How do I look?" Y/n grins through the helmet making Lando smile down at her.
"You look amazing. As always." Lando states only for Will to appear moving to talk to him and catching his attention from y/n momentarily.
Y/n ends up pulling his helmet off and just watching him talk in a pretty intense conversation. It actually goes on a while and a mechanic ends up noticing her looking a little stranded in the cockpit.
"I can help you, love." A mechanic states making the rest of the mechanics grimace since they know not to cross such a line when it comes to y/n.
"Oh, thanks." Y/n smiles but as soon as she begins to shift, Lando has paused his conversation and is looking at the mechanic.
"I got her mate. Thanks." Lando states and wisely the mechanics reads his tone and expression enough to know to back off. Usually Lando is never so seriously or cold towards them but he draws the line with y/n. "Come on baby."
Y/n resists the urge to send a sympathetic but grateful smile to the man and instead just focuses on standing up and being lifted out with the help of Lando before she is placed on the ground.
"You ok?" Lando asks making her smile and nod then kissing him softly.
"Yeah, I'm ok." Y/n nods before Lando flicks his gaze, presumably to the mechanic but she just smiles at him. Her hands sliding around his waist as she hugs him.
Y/n isn't entirely stupid, she knows Lando might be a little more jealous and possessive than other men. But she doesn't really think there's anything wrong with that. Lando is the way he is because he loves her.
"Alright, come on baby." Lando mumbles patting her tummy where his hand had been keeping her pressed back against himself, making sure he had her closely kept pressed to him.
Lando guides her through the garage then switching her to her usual spot somewhat to the side but behind him as he links their hands.
"Are you hungry?" Lando asks making her nod a little. "Go up to my room. I grab us something."
Y/n moves up to his room mumbling hi's and how are you's to staff as she passes, never wanting to come across as rude.
When Lando appears he places down a poke bowl which is one of his go-to meals and she's always more than happy to just stick to his diet.
"I like seeing you in my clothes. Especially in my number." Lando comments suddenly once they finish eating making her smile and look up at him. "I would just always have you in my clothes if I could."
"I like wearing your clothes...even if they're a little baggy on me."
"You look beautiful in baggy clothes." Lando states with a small smirk then holding out his hand for her to take which she doesn't hesitate to take and allow him to guide her over. "But I do like what's underneath the most."
"But what if someone walks in?" Y/n mumbles then swallowing as he pulls her down.
Lando's been hard since he had her pressed against her after he got her out the car. He's already wait for them to eat, but he wants her now and thankfully y/n is always compliant.
"I'll tell them to go away. What do I tell you?"
"No one else gets to see me like that. I'm all for you." Y/n states then obediently moves her own hands down to pull him out as she stands up kicking off his joggers and her underwear before she climbs back onto him suddenly very eager before she sinks down on him. Maybe a little dry but she shudders at a ripple of pleasure from being filled.
Lando is actually patient, letting her adjust and feeling her grow wetter around him before she hums a little as if trying to contain louder noise as she holds his shoulders.
"That's it baby." Lando soothes as she begins to pull up up with the aid of his hands on her ass.
He ends up controlling the pace, pushing her down on himself till his tip is brushing her cervix and then eventually beginning to knock it hard with every thrust as he thrusts up, somehow getting deeper while she tries to contain any noise. After all these paddock units are not made of bricks. She wouldn't be surprised if people can hear them anyway and are aware of their activities.
"Fuck baby, you always feel so good." Lando grunts feeling her begin to sweet him at those words, the lust in his voice having such an effect that it's not long before she's completely seized on him. Feeling his own orgasm be triggered as he slams her down on himself, filling her with his cum. Her so tightly around him that it fills the space and leaves her feeling the pressure of being so full and she can't contain the moan that passes her lips at the feeling. "Good girl."
Lando holds her there for a few beats before gently setting her down beside him.
"Alright baby. let's get you dressed." Lando states after giving himself a bit of a clean up and tucking himself away.
"But your-"
"Next time someone wants to try and touch you, they can do it while you know my cum is leaking out of you." Lando cuts off making her remain quiet as he helps her back into her underwear and then his joggers. Gravity not quite having worked to make his cum leak back out of her yet but she can feel the movement.
"What if someone sees?" Y/n mumbles earning a small smile as he moves his hand to tip her chin up as he leans over, stopping just short of her lips.
"The joggers are black baby, no one's going to see. That felt good didn't it? And you like being full of my cum." Lando states then kissing with a very hot and heavy kiss that she can't even stop herself from melting into. "I want to see my cum all over you later when we're back at the hotel, so don't even think about about trying to clean it up."
Y/n actually feels herself twitch at the thought of what he might have planned later and how she's going to feel when it happens. If there's one place she'd never ever try to deny Lando excels it's in the bedroom, or in this case in his driver's room.
She ends up spending a couple hours being pulled around feeling the cum leak out of her, soaking her underwear which is hardly anything that protects the joggers from at least coating it from the inside along wish the top of her inner thighs where it's dried out too.
-
When they get back to Monaco, Lando is almost relieved to be able to confine both himself and y/n to his apartment. No interference and no random people trying to get close to y/n.
Though Lando has gone out to have dinner with some sponsors. He certainly was not going to have Y/n dress up nice and be the only woman there playing as eye candy for the men.
"Y/n?" Lando calls out as he returns home. "Baby?"
Y/n appears from the hallway and he feels an instead heat rise from the sight of her eyes bloodshot and puffy.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She mumbles moving to hug him with a very small but forced smile. "Missed you."
"Baby, tell me what's wrong?" Lando frowns as she sniffles. "Did you hurt yourself? Did someone say something online?"
"No. No. My mum called and said all my friends have been messaging saying that you're a bad guy and that you're going to hurt me and they're scared for me. So she wants me to go home for a bit."
"What did you say?" Lando questions immediately making her swallow. "You're not going back to England just because some fucking assholes think they know what's going on, y/n. What am I doing that's so wrong?"
"Nothing. I don't think you're doing anything wrong." Y/n rambles shaking her head.
"So you want to leave me for doing nothing wrong? You know they're just trying to get between us and now they've pulled your mum in because they think she has the power to get between us in the way they didn't. You're really just going to give them what they want?" Lando questions then scoffing as he steps back. "If you don't want to be with me just say rather than trying to put it into others."
"N-no. I want to be with you. They're wrong. I just want to prove it to them. I want to tell them." Y/n panics trying to move closer.
"If they don't support us then why do you even care about them. Baby, if your mum cared then she wouldn't upset you and make you cry because you're in a safe and happy relationship."
"You're right. You-you're right." Y/n nods feeling her heart thump in her chest.
"Why would you even want to talk to you mum if she's going to be as bad as them? What kind of mum is that unsupportive?" Lando questions making y/n blink a couple times, tears gathering in her eyes and Lando sighs. "Baby, how many times do I have to tell you? All these people they're just jealous that you're happy and they're trying to ruin this?
"I know. I was just thinking about going home. But I told my mum I'd talk to you and you're right." Y/n states then swallowing thickly while Lando sighs gently at her. "I'm sorry. I think they mean it from a good place."
"You wouldn't be upset if they meant it from a good place." Lando sighs softly as he moves closer to her and gently pulls her closer. "I love you, I'm just sick of people thinking they know anything."
Y/n nods then smiling as she loops her hands around the back of his neck.
"I just need you." Y/n smiles then sighing. "Anyway, now you're back. How was your dinner?"
Lando knows y/n is locked in. She's really just dismissed her own mother in favour of him and she's still looking at him with absolute adoration.
He still doesn't want anyone thinking they have a chance so he's not going to chance how he is with her and really he's not going to stop till he's cut everyone who poses a threat out of her life. Family, friends or not.
Y/n is gonna be all his. At any cost to herself or the other people who love her.
794 notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 3 days
Note
A CHRIS X READER THAT IS POC I BEG YOU ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BUT YK HOW THEY DID THAT COLLAB WITH SAM AND COLBY, TARA, JAKE, LARRAY AND JOHNNIE
BUT DURING THE COLLAB CHRIS WAS BEING REAL TOUCHY WITH THE READER LIKE WHEN SHE BENDS OVER HED PUT HIS HANDS ON HER CROTCH BUT NB SEES IT AND THEY EVENTUALLY F*CK PLS
last time
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chris sturniolo x poc! reader
warnings: smutttt, p in v, cursing, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, poc! reader, sexual jokes
a/n: writing for this friend group was so funnn
enjoyyy<33
“wait, ok chris! let me get up!” i exclaimed, laughing as chris squeezed his arms around me tighter.
we were currently at the triplet’s house with his brothers, jake, johnnie, tara, larray, sam, and colby.
when the entire group agreed we were hungry, i offered to make us something.
“so, what’s on the menu?” colby asked, eyebrows raised as he clapped his hands together excitedly.
“nothing, if chris doesn’t let me get up to make it” i spoke, causing him to glare up at me and squeeze me even tighter.
upon hearing the words, the entire group yelled at chris to get off of me, the hunger beginning to make them cranky.
“fine” he grumbled as he let go of me, allowing me to stand up.
i began to make my way to the kitchen when tara spoke up, “wait! i’ll help you” she smiled as she walked over to me.
once we got to the kitchen, which happened to be just out of earshot from the couch that the rest of the group resided on, she began to speak.
“so, you and chris aren’t together, right?” she asked.
i raised my eyebrows at her suspiciously at the statement, squinting at her. “why?”
she lightly chuckled at that, “i just noticed you guys are really touchy, but i don’t wanna assume anything” she said, raising her hands in defense.
i laughed at the gesture, “no, you’re ok. i don’t know what we are, honestly. i mean, we’re really close, probably closer than friends should be. but, neither of us are ready for a relationship, you know?”
it was true, chris and i had done some questionable things for just being friends.
it’s not like we had sex often, we just happened to get caught up in the moment once or twice.
…and a few times after that…. and a few more after those times.
but other than that, we had a completely normal friendship.
we were both aware of each other’s feelings, but we were content with where our relationship was at.
why risk messing everything up when we’re both happy ?
“so you guys don’t want to be in a relationship, you just want to act like you’re in one?” she pointed out, “that logic seems a bit flawed to me”
“you do have a point, but honestly? change is scary, and i’m not willing to completely dismantle mine and chris’s relationship because i got greedy” i spoke.
she tilted her head, squinting her eyes, “is that not what you’re doing right now?” she deadpanned. “you’re not worried that fucking around will ruin your relationship first?”
my eyes widened at the statement, “when did i say we were fucking around?” i defended, taken aback at how quickly she was able to figure it out.
“so y’all are? i knew it!” larray joined in, suddenly appearing next to me.
i quickly shushed him, not wanting chris to hear the conversation from his spot on the couch.
“keep your voice down, he’s right there! and where did you even come from?” i asked.
i glanced over to chris to determine whether he had heard the conversation, only to be met with his eyes already on me.
“you think he knows we’re talking about him?” tara whispered to us, catching his gaze on me.
“i don’t know, but girl he’s eye fucking the shit out of you right now” larray told me.
my jaw dropped at his words, a light giggle falling from my lips.
“oh our girl’s getting dicked down tonight” tara joined in.
“y’all have to stop” i spoke, the two collectively laughing at my flustered state.
suddenly, chris got up from his spot, beginning to walk over to the kitchen.
“oh shit, he’s coming over” i whispered to them.
“okay girl, go get your pasta and lobster” larray spoke, beginning to walk away.
“you got this!” tara whispered, walking away with him.
before i knew it, chris stood in front of me, a light smirk growing on his face.
“you guys talkin about me?” he asked, his hands finding their way to my waist.
“no” i denied, despite of us both knowing it wasn’t true.
"mmhm, you tell them how good i make you feel?” he asked as his fingers ran over the skin under my t-shirt.
“chris” i spoke, swallowing harshly.
“how you act all innocent in front of everyone else, but in bed you’re a freak?” he whispered into my ear.
“chris!” i scolded him, lightly slapping his chest. “what’s gotten into you?”
“what do you think? you’re walking around in this skirt, showing off your thighs. all i can think about is shoving my head between them” he spoke, his hands running down my body.
just before they could make their way to my thighs, a voice made us pull away, “you guys are real cute and all, but i’m hungry! chris, please just let her make our food” jake yelled from his spot.
his words caused tara to smack him upside the head, his face contorting into a wince at the feeling.
“what are you making anyway? we have, like, no food in our fridge” matt spoke up.
“oh, i know. i was just gonna make pizza rolls” i answered.
“we don’t have any pizza rolls” nick spoke, brows furrowing in confusion.
“yeah, we do” chris spoke, pulling them out of the freezer, “i bought her some”
i smiled bashfully at the statement, mouthing a “thank you” to chris.
he lightly nudged me with his shoulder in response, a smile of his own growing on his face.
“you two make me sick” colby spoke, “don’t be jealous, it’s not my fault no one buys you pizza rolls” i defended.
his eyes widened at that, taking offense to the words.
“ok, but wait, you said you were cooking something. this entire time i thought you were actually making us a meal” nick said, the group making noises of agreement.
“listen, y’all ! i’m not, nor did i ever claim to be a chef. i don’t know what you thought, but you were wrong” i spoke playfully.
“and nick, you know there’s no food, this is your house. where did you think i was getting ingredients from?” i asked as i placed the pizza rolls on a sheet.
“girl i don’t know, but pizza rolls aren’t gonna fill anyone up, those are like appetizers”
“ok then don’t eat any” i shrugged as i finished emptying the package.
“y’all can order something if you want, i’m really just craving pizza rolls” with that the group began to have a conversation about what they wanted to order.
“i’ll have some of your pizza rolls” chris spoke from beside me.
“good” i smiled up at him, before grabbing the baking sheet to place in the oven.
i bent over, pulling the oven open to place the sheet on the rack.
when my skirt rose up slightly, chris didn’t waist a second in placing his hand on my ass.
he quickly dipped his fingers into my panties, rubbing my heat.
he used his free hand to pull my front half back up, quickly covering my mouth with the palm of his hand.
“hmphhh” i lightly moaned into his hands, as his fingers explored my wetness, collecting my arousal on his fingers.
before i knew it, his fingers left my body, as he turned me around to face him.
he placed his fingers, which were now coated in my juices, into his mouth.
i watched intently as his tongue swirled around each finger, lapping at them like a starved man.
“hm, just needed a taste” he spoke, smirking at my shocked state, “you should probably close that”
“close what?” i asked him as i blinked rapidly, attempting to recover from his actions.
he nodded towards the oven with his head, “i don’t know how well they’ll cook if you leave the door open” he raised his eyebrows at me.
he was having the time of his life right now.
“uh- yeah, yeah you’re right” i spoke as i quickly closed the oven door.
“need some help with that?” chris asked as he stared down at my thighs, which were involuntarily clenching together.
i was doing my best to hold it together, but his actions turned me on far more than i’d like to admit.
“i’m fine” i spoke quickly, hoping he wouldn’t point out the fact that i was obviously lying.
but he, being chris, would never give me the luxury of sparing me from his teasing.
“really? you don’t look fine. you look like you need to be ruined” he whispered into my ear.
“chris, i’m not gonna have sex with you with all of these people in the house”
“really? don’t think that’s stopped you before” he spoke cockily.
“we said that the last time was gonna be it, remember?” i reminded him, placing my hand on his chest.
“yeah, you’re right, we have to stop. so we’re done doing this” he nodded his head at me.
“yup, that’s it. it’s done”
well, it was done. until-
“fuck, chris! yes, yes, yes ! right fucking there, holy shit” i did my best to keep quiet, as chris pounded into me from behind.
“one last time, just one last time” he whispered to himself while he drove himself in and out of me like his life depended on it.
“if this is the last time, i’m gonna make sure you remember that no one else will ever fuck you like i do” he whispered into my ear, chest pressing against my back while my eyes rolled into the back of my head.
“ you got that? can you say it back to me, princess? “
“i- no one, no one will ever fuck me like you do” i heaved out, fisting his sheets as continued to push himself deep inside of me.
“damn right” he rasped, as he gave my ass a slap, eliciting a moan from me.
“god, what did i do to deserve you? you’re so fucking good for me, holy shit” his head fell back as he moaned out.
“you feel so good in me, chris. don’t want anyone else, just you” i spoke back to him.
“yeah? am i making you feel good, baby? that’s all i ever want, just want you to feel good” he whispered, his fingers digging into my waist.
“you always do, baby. always feel so good with you” i moaned back.
my mind grew fuzzy as he went from giving sharp, quick thrusts to slow and deep ones, allowing me to feel every inch of him.
“love fucking you hard, but i gotta show you how much i care bout you” he spoke before burying his nose into my neck.
he placed a sweet kiss to the skin, before pulling it between his lips.
he sucked on the skin until it became darker, making it known that he had been there.
his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to his body as his cock stretched out my pussy.
“i don’t- fuck chris, it’s so good” i choked out as he continued to leave kisses against my skin.
“love seeing you like this, all fucked out under me. you’re so fucking beautiful, can’t believe you’re even real” he whispered.
“all yours, chris. you’re the only one who gets to see me like this”
i pushed my hips back into him, grinding on his dick, as he wrapped a hand around my neck to choke me.
“god, oh my-” he whined out his dick twitching inside of me.
“you gonna cum for me, chris?” i asked as i felt myself on the brink of my own orgasm.
“yes, yes, please cum with me” he whispered, head dropping to the crook of my neck as he shot his seed inside of me.
he continued to thrust into me, the coil in my stomach snapping as i coated his cock in my pleasure.
coaxing me through my orgasm, he gave a few more sloppy thrusts, before gently pulling out of me.
“did so good for me” he mumbled, pressing a light kiss to my shoulder.
“was that good ? did i hurt you?” he asked as he went to lay down next to me.
“of course it was good, chris. and i’m okay” i told him, cupping his cheek.
“good, let me clean you up and we can cuddle?” he asked, a grin taking over his features.
“yeah, sounds good“ i spoke as i heard my phone vibrate on chris’s nightstand.
when i opened it up, i was met with unopened text messages:
THE ULTIMATE CROSSOVER ❗️(10 MEMBERS)
matty b 💁🏻‍♂️ 9:01 pm
SHUT THE HELL UP ! WE CAN HEAR YOU ALL THE WAY OUT HERE
nick 👑 9:01 pm
oh great you guys pissed off mat
(i agree w him)
johnnie 🧛🏻 9:02 pm
i’m just waiting for my food
jake 🕸️ 9:10 pm
CHRIS STOP FUCKING AND TELL US WHAT U WANT SO WE CAN ORDER OUR FOOD
tara 👅 9:10 pm
YOU SHOULD’VE GOTTEN IT BEFORE THEY DISAPPEARED TOGETHER
TF WERE U EXPECTING DUMBASS
larray 💅🏽 9:15 pm
🍝+ 🦞
if it’s not snowing she ain’t going y’all
sam 👻🌝 9:34 pm
update: we ate your pizza rolls
colby 👻🌚 9:34 pm
we’re still hungry hurry up
y/n ⭐️ 9:41 pm
MY PIZZA ROLLS ???
FUCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF U HOES
IMMA FIGHT Y’ALL 🤺🤺
chris 🦌 9:41 pm
oops
my bad guys
nick 👑 9:42 pm
chris come do the walk of shame out here so i can beat your ass 🙂
TARA 🧚🏻‍♀️ 9:20 pm
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🌀🌀🌀🌀
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturnssx @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
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valeskafics · 1 day
Text
"Crazy In Love" - Dark Ex!Rafe Cameron x Reader
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a/n: a request from @eydi-andrius for crazy ex rafe heheheheh 🩷
Summary: Rafe doesn't seem to understand the concept of a breakup.
Word Count: 3,525
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: dubcon, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, intimidation, threats of violence (not against reader), jealousy, toxic relationship dynamic, references to mdma usage, stalking, choking, hair pulling, biting, fingering, slight degradation, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, topper is a cunt, jj is a little shit
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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When Rafe wakes up, he expects to find you cuddled up against him. That things are going to be business as usual. After all, when you said you wanted to break up, you still kissed him back when he pulled you in. So he’s going to assume that the stupid little idea you had of trying to get some space from him is long forgotten. That is, until he sees you pulling on your clothes, sitting at the foot of the bed, getting ready to leave without saying goodbye. You haven’t even put your shoes on, no doubt to avoid him hearing them against the hardwood floor. Rafe jolts awake, staring at you.
“Where are you going, baby? Don’t you want breakfast?”
“Oh, hey…” You trail off, turning to face him, “Uh, I have to get to work, actually.”
“But you’re off today.”
You shake your head, dropping your sneakers to the ground and slipping into them, giving up on any chance of getting out of Tanneyhill unseen, “Boss switched my schedule. I’m off Thursdays instead of Fridays.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Rafe huffs, crossing his arms, “How am I supposed to know when to pick you up?”
“Because we’re broken up, Rafe.”
Rafe shakes his head, trying to hide how much that comment angers him, “No. We’re taking a break, if anything. We’re not broken up.” You don’t bother arguing with him, just continuing to walk to the front door, “Can I at least drive you to work?”
“No, it’s okay. I have my bike out front.”
He’s desperate now, and it seeps into his voice as he pleads, “Can I at least give you a hug goodbye?”
Rafe has always known how to get you to let down your walls for him. When he speaks to you, his voice cracking ever so slightly, letting you know he’s on the brink of tears. You turn to face him, your resolve faltering as you nod slowly. He pulls you into his embrace, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his hands rubbing your lower back as he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.
“Can you do me a favor? Can we meet up later?” Rafe feels you pull away, your eyes meeting his as you silently question what he wants, “I think we should talk about us… Please?”
You shake your head, removing yourself from his embrace, “I’m sorry, Rafe. It’s Friday, so I’ll be really busy at work and I’m just gonna wanna go home after. I’ll see you around, okay?”
He watches as you bike down the road, farther and farther away from him, disappearing into the distance. Rafe tries to call after you, pain in his voice as he questions whether you care about him anymore. Whether you still love him. But you don’t hear him. Or maybe you just pretend not to as you bike further and further away from him.
He shouldn’t be this fucking hung up over you. Granted, you’re gorgeous and probably the first girl he’s ever really loved. But you’re a Pogue. You work at the Island Club. Hell, the main point of contention between the two of you is your friendship with the other Pogues. It’s no secret that Pope, John B, and JJ have all had crushes on you at one point or another. He’s pretty sure those feelings linger even today with how much they resent him for being your boyfriend. You always tried to assure him that it wasn’t the case, but Rafe knew. He could see the way John B’s hand would linger on your lower back when he helped you into that fucking van of his, the way Pope smiled at you, the way JJ shamelessly ogled you. It was bad enough to try and get Topper and Kelce to stop checking you out, but these three?
He’s the only guy who should be giving you any attention at all. You don’t need anyone but him.
He just needs to remind you of that little detail.
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You’re clearly trying to avoid him. Rafe knows that. But he’s not going to let that happen. He parks outside your house, a little ways down the road so he can watch you get on that bike and ride to work at the Island Club every day. He sits down at the restaurant there for the entirety of your shift, just watching you. Topper and Kelce ask if he’s ever going to go play a round with them, but he ignores them, his eyes locked on your figure as you wait on the guests. You always manage to switch tables with one of the other girls, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see you.
Rafe isn’t over you. It’s been weeks since the breakup, but he knows he’s never getting over you. He watches as you smile brightly at the customers you’re waiting on before walking over to JJ, handing him the order slip to give to the kitchen. He hates it. He hates the way you giggle at whatever stupid joke JJ has made, he hates the way he leans in to whisper something in your ear, the way you don’t immediately push him away.
“Whoa… Is your girl with that dirty Pogue now?”
Topper’s words snap Rafe out of his trance, his head whipping toward him, voice coming out in a low snarl as he hisses, “What?”
Topper raises his hands defensively, exchanging a weary look with Kelce, “Oh, um, nothing, man. Sorry. Was just asking.”
Rafe grits his teeth, shaking his head, immediately staring at you again, hating that you’re so close yet so fucking far out of reach as he mumbles, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even care.”
“Yeah, Rafe can do way better than her anyway,” Kelce adds, “She’s hot but she’s a dirty Pogue too.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe glares at him.
“What? She is a Pogue-”
“I fucking said shut up, Kelce!” Rafe stands up, glaring down at his friend. Kelce shrinks slightly in his seat, not unused to Rafe’s mood swings, but surprised that he’s so angry despite claiming not to care about you anymore. Heads turn in the Island Club restaurant toward their table. Every head except yours. You stumble over something slightly while chatting with JJ, nearly falling, but he catches you, brushing a piece of hair off your face, the two of you laughing. And Rafe’s anger reaches a boiling point. He sits down with a low growl, yelling out, “God dammit!”
You walk over to them a few minutes later, your coworker having refused to take their table - no doubt after seeing Rafe’s temper tantrum. You greet the three with that ‘customer service’ smile, as you’ve referred to it so many times in conversation with Rafe.
“Boys. What can I get started for you?”
For a long moment, Rafe just stares at you, his lips slightly parted. You clear your throat awkwardly and Rafe finally catches himself, doing his best to ignore the way Topper and Kelce are practically undressing you with their eyes.
“Steak and potatoes,” he says flatly, looking back at the menu.
“I thought you were trying to cut back on your red meat intake-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head as if to remind yourself that he isn’t your boyfriend anymore, “You know what? Not my business. How do you want that cooked?”
“Medium,” Topper replies, leaning over Rafe and giving you a little smirk.
Rafe gives him an annoyed glare, his fists clenching, though he takes comfort in the way you snap at Topper, “I asked Rafe. Not you.” You turn to Rafe, “Medium well?”
He nods at you. You still know him so well. You always have. It’s been weeks since he’s had you in his arms, and it’s driving him crazy. He watches as you take Kelce’s order, just gazing at you intensely, and the way you scowl as you write down Topper’s order, muttering something under your breath before turning to leave.
Topper speaks up the moment you’re gone, “Why’d you even date a girl like her, man?”
“What do you mean a ‘girl like her’?” Rafe scowls.
“A Pogue.”
Rafe’s jaw clenches, “Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
You return a few moments later with their drinks, sensing the tense atmosphere. Rafe continues glaring at Topper, only turning to you when you place his lemonade in front of him. He hadn’t even ordered one. You just knew him well enough to know he would’ve wanted one. Then, Topper opens his big fucking mouth again.
“A Pogue’s the last person I would’ve expected you to date.”
Before Rafe can say anything, you give Topper a sarcastic little smile as you slam his drink down in front of him, one that Rafe knows all too well, “Maybe Rafe just has more substance than you.”
Topper looks at you, confused, “Substance?”
“Yeah. Substance. Like depth? Not to be confused with substance as in substance abuse. Like all the Molly you take that’s fried your fucking brain.”
It’s Topper’s turn to stand up, glaring at you, cursing you out, demanding you apologize, but Rafe simply shoves him back into his seat, watching the way you saunter off without a care in the world. You’ve always been like this. Confident, comfortable in who you are. Always willing to put people in their place. Hell, not even Rafe was ever spared from that.
He watches from a distance as you continue talking to JJ. He hates it. He’s so fucking jealous and he knows that you’re not even his girlfriend anymore, but fuck, he hates it. That smile? That should be for him. And when JJ wraps his arm around you, muttering something in your ear? He loses his cool. Rafe storms over to you, his voice a low, venomous hiss.
“Take your hands off her.”
Your eyes go wide at his words, “Rafe, JJ is my best friend-”
“Doesn’t matter,” Rafe says, ignoring your words, his jealousy growing out of control, “You don’t put your goddamn arm around a girl like that when her boyfriend is around. It’s disrespectful.”
“Oh, so I’m supposed to respect you, Kook-”
You cut JJ off, giving Rafe a sharp look, “You’re not my boyfriend anymore. Rafe, stop.”
He looks straight at JJ, wanting nothing more than to beat his ass into the ground, to wipe that smug little smile off his face, “I’m giving you five seconds to take your fucking hands off of her.”
“Okay, fine. If she tells me to.”
JJ’s response makes Rafe’s blood boil as he turns to you, gnashing his teeth, “Tell him. Now.”
You duck out from under JJ’s arm, speaking quietly to Rafe, “Let’s just go talk, okay?”
He follows you to the breakroom, running a hand through his hair. He watches the way you pace back and forth, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance, your eyebrows scrunched together in that way they always get when you’re annoyed. Normally he’d just kiss your forehead and everything would be fine. You’d smile up at him and kiss him and forget why you were pissed in the first place. But now, you just sigh.
“Rafe, we’re broken up. We’re over. You can’t just act like this.”
He takes a step toward you, “Maybe. But I still have feelings for you. And seeing another guy fuckin’ touch you like that? I’m not okay with it.”
“It’s not just some guy! It’s JJ, my best friend! This is why we broke up, Rafe, because you can’t stop acting like a jealous asshole!”
Rafe scoffs incredulously, shaking his head, “So I’m the bad guy for not wanting other guys to touch you? That’s fucking bullshit, Princess, you know that-”
“Don’t call me that! You and I need to move on, okay?”
“Move on?” He shakes his head, running a hand over his face, “There is no fucking moving on for me! Do you understand that? I fucking love you! That’s not something that happens for me! I fucking love you. And I can’t move on. No matter how much you want me to. No matter how much you wanna pretend we didn’t happen, I can’t fucking move on!”
JJ pokes his head into the breakroom, his brow furrowed at seeing how close you and Rafe are, “Everything okay?”
You nod quickly, “Yeah, Jayj, we’re fine.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Rafe snaps without even looking at him, his gaze still trained on you.
“Come over here and make me, big fella-”
You shove JJ out the door, letting out another sigh before turning to Rafe, “Please just go. I’ll get fired. I need this job.”
Rafe nods before walking out the door, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go.”
He gives you one last lingering glance before leaving the room.
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It continues. Not for a second does Rafe let up. He’s constantly there, trying to get you to take him back. Your hangouts with your friends, dinner with your family, work. He’s always there. And you continue trying to ignore him. He’s fucking relentless. Rafe feels like he can’t even breathe without thinking about you, needing you back.
Today is no exception. He stands on the steps of your house, waiting for you to get home, elbows resting on his knees, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. He knows where you’ve been. Out on your first date since the breakup. A date with none other than JJ. He always knew the little fucker had a thing for you. He hears the two of you pull up, hears you telling JJ to just drop you off here. He watches as JJ helps you off his bike and helps you out of your helmet. He watches as JJ kisses you. Rafe inhales sharply, trying to calm himself, waiting for him to ride off before making his presence known, standing up as you approach your door.
You look so fucking pretty as you walk toward your door, freezing in surprise when you see him. Wearing that cute little sundress that hits your lower thigh, your beat up Converse. You’re so fucking beautiful. You do your best to ignore him, reaching for your keys, but Rafe speaks, turning you around to face him.
“You kissed him.”
“I… Were you fucking spying on me?!”
“Yes!” He answers without hesitation, “Yes, I was fucking spying on you! Yes, I’m fucking jealous! I’m completely batshit crazy about you! I can’t even sleep at night because I’m going insane thinking about you!”
“Rafe, we broke up, we’re over! Move on!”
Rafe shakes his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips, pinning you against the door, “I  can’t. You’re the perfect girl for me. The only one who’s ever understood me. When I’m with you… You make me better. Less angry. I can’t do this without you.” His breathing is ragged and his gaze desperate as he stares at you, all rational thought leaving his body, “But I need you to understand something. If I see you with JJ again? I’ll fucking destroy him.”
Your jaw drops, “What the fuck does that mean?!”
“I’ll hurt him. I’ll fuck him up, I’ll beat the fucking shit out of him.”
“No, Rafe, you can’t, let’s be rational-”
“Rational?” His voice cracks slightly as he laughs, pushing his hair back, “You want me to be fucking rational? I have been doing everything in my fucking power to get you back and you keep pushing me away. Going out with JJ? I’m so fucking past rational, Princess.”
You take a deep breath, letting out a tremulous exhale as you question, “What do you want me to do? What will it take for you not to hurt him?”
“What do I want you to do? I want you back where you belong. With me.”
“But-”
“No! I don’t want you to see him or hear from him ever again. I want you with me. Where you fucking belong.”
“And if I don’t come back to you?” You ask quietly, “What happens then?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
“No, Rafe. I want to know. What happens if I refuse? You kill JJ, is that it?”
“Don’t fucking put words in my mouth, Princess,” he hisses, leaning down, his forehead resting against yours, “But yes. I’ll fucking kill him. And you know I’m capable of it.”
“You’re fucking insane-”
“No, no, no, this isn’t me being insane,” he laughs bitterly, his hand wrapping around your throat, holding you in place, “It’s me being what you’ve made me. You drive me fucking crazy. It’s your fucking fault. Your fault that I can’t get over you no matter how hard I try. Your fault I care about you so much I’ll do anything to keep you with me! And if that sounds insane, I don’t give a fuck. I’d rather be insane than lose you to someone else.”
You try to shove him away, fumbling with your keys, trying to get inside, but he manages to make it in with you, pinning you back up against the door. And when he kisses you, you hate yourself for it, but you melt into his arms. Rafe’s lips move against yours desperately, with a passion that you have never experienced with anyone else. His hand knots in your hair, tugging harshly. Your head falls back and he immediately begins biting at your neck, being sure to leave his mark. Come morning, everyone will see that you belong to him. That you always have.
“I hate you.”
Rafe’s hands move down your side, sliding under the hem of your dress to cup your mound over your panties, a dirty smile on his face as he murmurs, “Your pussy doesn’t. You could never hate me. You know I’m the only one who can love you like this. I’d kill for you. And there’s a sick little part of you that gets off on it. Gets off on knowing that I’m so crazy about you that I’d do anything to keep you.”
He’s right. You hate him so fucking much for it, but he’s right. He pushes two thick fingers inside you, making your lips part slightly, the hand wrapped around your throat squeezing harder as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your eyes roll back as he finds that sweet spot with ease, knowing your body better than even you do. He rubs his thumb against your clit, fingers moving in and out of you, ignoring your whimpering and whining, your choked gasps. Rafe stares down at you, his cock straining against his pants as he watches you come undone on his fingers. You look so pretty like this, staring up at him all fucked out. Needy and ready for him.
Rafe manhandles you onto your sofa, pushing your dress up just enough to reveal your ass, slapping it harshly once, twice, three times, admiring the way your flesh jiggles against the impact. He hooks his arm around your neck, his front to your back, as he pushes your underwear aside just enough to reveal your wet cunt. He pushes inside you with one fluid thrust, his fat cock filling you so fucking perfectly, the way it always does. You grasp at one of the cushions, moaning his name as he pounds into you, his arm restricting your airflow, his free hand slapping at your clit, making your entire body tremble against his.
“Yeah, you wanted this, Princess,” he snarls against your ear as he ruts against you, your vision blurring from the lack of oxygen combined with the pleasure he’s giving you, “Fuck, still so tight for me after I’ve fucked you so many times. Taking me like such a good little girl. My good little girl. All. Fucking. Mine,” he hisses, punctuating each word with a thrust, fucking you harder, deeper than ever before. You let out a whimper of his name, moving your fingers to circle your clit, only for him to slap your hand away, “Don’t be fucking greedy. You get what I give you, Princess.”
So you lay there and you take what he has to give you, the fat head of his cock rubbing against that spongy spot deep inside of you with every thrust. You moan his name, feeling his movements begin to slow, knowing both of you are close.
“Say it,” Rafe growls, “Say you’re mine. Say only I get to touch you, fuck you, love you like this.”
“I’m yours, Rafe,” you manage to eke out, eyes rolling back, “Only yours… Please… Let me come, Rafe, please…”
“Come for me, Princess,” he murmurs, rubbing at your clit furiously feeling the way you tighten around him, your walls hugging him tight as you reach your peak, his own following soon after, thick ropes of cum painting you white as he reaches his release, your cunt milking him for all he has.
He turns you onto your back so that you’re forced to face him, brushing his nose against yours as he whispers, “Don’t you ever try to fucking leave me again, Princess. You’re mine.”
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girlgenius1111 · 9 hours
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all of my pain and all your excuses
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part 2 of family line ingrid arrives home, and realizes how much she's missed with her sister. her and mapi try to figure out how to put the pieces back together. r struggles with the mess inside her head. cw: mommy issues galore 🙃 mentions of poor mental health. solstråle continues to be sad.
-------
It took you a few minutes of crying into Mapi before you realized what she’d probably done. At this realization, you pulled away from her in a panic, practically falling onto the ground. 
“Mapi, please don’t tell Ingrid about this, please please, you can’t, she’ll be so mad, she’s already mad, I can’t,” your gasps for air cut your words off and Mapi took your face in between her hands. 
“Breathe. In and out pequeña. Just breathe.” She instructed, dramatically exaggerating her own breaths. 
“Please, Mapi,” you whimpered after a minute. 
“I’m sorry, nena, I had to. I had to.” She said, seemingly begging you to believe her that she’d had no other choice. You couldn’t really blame her; you’d gotten yourself here, after all. You’d written the letter. You’d meant every word you’d said, and every word you didn’t quite have the guts to say. You’d collapsed into her arms. You’d given her no choice. 
“I’m really scared,” you mumbled. 
Mapi pulled you back in, tucking your face easily into her chest. “I know. You don’t need to be, but I know you are. Everything is going to be alright. I promise you.” 
You wrapped yourself tight around the defender, hoping with everything in you that she was right. 
When Ingrid burst through the front door, eyes immediately finding you on the couch, crumpled up into a little ball in Mapi’s lap, she knew it was bad. Mapi was holding you so tightly, expression unreadable when she glanced up at Ingrid, murmuring inaudible words in your ear. You looked so small, visibly trembling in your baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, Mapi’s arms engulfing you. Ingrid practically ran to your side, sitting as carefully as she could next to the both of you. 
“María, what..?” Ingrid asked, trailing off when Mapi silently held out a piece of paper to her. Ingrid took it, having no idea what she was about to read. Having no idea what she was about to feel. 
You were hiding your face in Mapi’s sweater, much too distraught to care about how pathetic you probably seemed. You’d heard Ingrid enter, and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to leave your safe little bubble and confront this. When it had been silent for too long, and you knew Ingrid must be done reading by now, you shifted away from Mapi. It was time to be brave, and it was time to take whatever was coming your way. 
The look on your sister’s face made you want to take it all back. Because, fuck, you weren’t sure your happiness was worth making Ingrid this upset. She was scanning over the paper over and over, as if she was hoping the contents would change with each reread. 
You acted stronger than you felt, sliding off Mapi’s lap and moving a bit closer to Ingrid. She didn’t look away from the letter. 
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. 
Your sister’s head snapped up to look at you so rapidly, you almost jumped. 
“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, and you felt like the last stable part of you broke sharply at the nickname. Sunbeam, it meant. Ingrid had called you that your whole life. Her sunbeam, always breaking through the clouds to shine a bit of light. She’d assumed you’d grown out of it, recently. You looked so small, though, so scared and so desperately sad, that it just slipped out. She didn’t regret it, not when you practically fell towards her. “Oh, honey.” 
If you were crying with Mapi just minutes before, you were bawling now. Hysterical, hyperventilating cries that were painful to hear, and painful to let out, but somehow so cathartic. Ingrid pulled you into her, beginning to cry herself. 
When Ingrid spoke, it was in Norwegian, and nothing had ever sounded so safe. “I am so sorry, my perfect baby sister, I am so so sorry. I love you. I love you, I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you.” 
And though you still cried, you relaxed marginally at the comfort hearing her speak in your native language brought you. You relaxed, going completely limp against your sister. You probably would have slid off her onto the ground if she hadn’t had her arms wrapped around you so tight. Ingrid wasn’t sure she’d ever let you go. You weren’t sure you wanted her to.
-------
Ingrid stood in your doorway, eyes fixed on your sleeping form. She’d brought you up to bed, carrying you like she used to when you were little. You’d fallen asleep on her downstairs, and she hadn’t dared to move you for a while. She and Mapi sat in a rather stunned silence for a while, before Mapi suggested she bring you up to bed. So, Ingrid tucked you in, pulling the covers up to your chin the way she knew you liked them. She noticed something tucked under one of your pillows, and carefully pulled it out. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the plush polar bear in her hand. Snø. She’d given him to you when you were three, for your birthday. She thought you’d stopped sleeping with him, but apparently not. The thought that you’d pulled him out of your closet for some comfort upon arriving in Spain made tears flood Ingrid’s eyes. She carefully kissed your forehead before rushing out of the room, almost colliding with her girlfriend. 
“Oof,” Mapi grunted, steadying Ingrid, when she caught sight of the other womans’ face. “Amor,” 
Ingrid shook her head, wiping harshly at her eyes, and pushed past Mapi towards their bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled the folded letter out of her pocket, smoothing it out, and began to read it. Again. Mapi had followed her into the room, and took the paper out of her girlfriend’s hands. 
“Give it back.” Ingrid said through clenched teeth. She sounded angry, but Mapi saw the tears in her eyes and knew better. 
“No, you’ve already read it.” Mapi said firmly. 
“María, give it back, I need to read it again.” 
“Mi amor, it's just going to hurt more, and you don’t need that right now.”
“Yes I do,” Ingrid cried. “I do, she’s been hurting like this for god knows how long. Wanting to–” She cut herself off, shaking her head almost frantically. “She said she felt like no one would care if she was gone. Reading this hurts but it is nothing compared to what she has been feeling, and it is all my fault, so let me read it so I can fix this, because I need to fix this, I can’t lose her, María, I can’t lose her.” Ingrid was sobbing by the end, making little to no sense, and Mapi placed her hands on Ingrid’s cheeks, forcing her to make eye contact. She noticed in that moment that while you looked alike normally, you looked just like Ingrid when you cried. 
It wasn’t enough, though, Ingrid was crying so hard, every sob shattered a part of Mapi that she hadn’t known existed. She climbed onto the bed, pulling Ingrid with her, guiding the younger woman’s head onto her chest. Ingrid clutched at Mapi’s shirt almost desperately, muffling her sobs there too, although her body shook heavily with the force of them. Her world was falling down around her, and it was all she could do to hold onto her María, and not let go. 
“I know, mi princesa, I know.” Mapi murmured, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. “You aren’t going to lose her. We aren’t going to lose her. We’ll fix it.” 
“I don’t know how to fix it,” Ingrid whimpered. Mapi tilted the Norwegian’s head up, until Ingrid was looking at her once again. 
“That’s okay, mi amor. You don’t need to have all the answers now. We’ll figure it out together. For now, just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her.” 
Ingrid nodded pitifully, scooting up and cramming her face into the crook of Mapi’s neck.
“Thank you. For helping her and for texting me and for being so perfect. You’re always so perfect.” Ingrid mumbled. 
“I’ll be perfect for you any day. I love you, and I love your sister. Now relax, mi princesa. Relax, breathe, calm down. We’re going to be okay.” 
And like you had earlier, Ingrid hoped with everything in her that Mapi was right about this. 
-------
Ingrid and Mapi fell silent the minute you walked into the kitchen the next morning. They’d been talking about you, clearly, and they looked at you nervously the minute you were in sight. You’d woken up irritated, though, as you sometimes did, feeling like your blood was boiling, as if one wrong thing would set you off. You wished you had more control than that, but you knew the minute you heard your sister’s voice, you would fly off the handle. Because this morning? You weren’t sad. You were furious. 
The room was a complete contradiction to how you were feeling. Ingrid and Mapi’s home was bright with sunlight, and warm with color. They were both holding matching coffee mugs, and looking at you with matching concerned expressions, and all of it made you want to scream. Why did Ingrid get to have this perfect life, and you didn’t? Why did she get to be happy so easily, and you didn’t? 
You were lost in your thoughts, taking the coffee Mapi handed you with a quiet thank you. The kitchen was uncomfortably silent. 
“Hi, solstråle. How are you feeling this morning?” Ingrid piped up. You clenched your jaw. How did she think you were feeling?
“Fine.” You snapped. 
Ingrid remained quiet and soothing when she spoke next, and it made you even angrier. “Honey, last night,”
“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.” You said harshly, cutting her off. Ingrid tensed, trying to keep her reaction in check. 
“I’m sorry, solstråle, but that is not an option. We need to talk about what happened, we can’t wait on that.” Ingrid insisted, voice measured. 
Still it was like she’d hit you. Your head snapped up, your features contorted with rage, and you set your coffee down dangerously softly, glaring at your sister. “Oh now we have to? Now we have to talk about it? I’ve been here for 6 fucking months Ingrid. It took you months to realize something was wrong, and you didn’t even realize! I had to write it out for you. You told me last night that you love me, that you want me here, well then why didn’t you fucking show it before now! I said I don’t want to talk today and I meant that.” You yelled. 
Ingrid shook her head, her hands clenching tight into fists. “Do not yell at me. I am trying to help. I understand that you’re hurt, and that you’re upset, but-” 
You scoffed loudly then, interrupting her, and Ingrid got visibly more frustrated with you, her lips turning down into a disapproving frown. 
“You can’t-” 
“Ingrid, just take a sec.” Mapi cut in, her soft voice a sharp contrast to how you and your sister had been conversing. “Nena, we do need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be now. Let’s just all take a breath.” 
Ingrid was shocked when you slowly nodded your head and took a step back from her, inhaling deeply. It was like magic; she’d never seen an argument that you were involved in get de-escalated so quickly.  
“Go get your homework, okay? You’re coming with us to training.” Ingrid said after a minute. There was no room for argument in her words, and you fought against another surge of anger, fought the urge to yell. 
“Is this because of what I wrote?” You asked evenly. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances. 
“Listen, nena, we just want to keep an eye on you.” Mapi told you, realizing that you were a lot less reactive when she spoke to you than when Ingrid did. 
“I know what I said. I wasn’t going to do anything, though. Really. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that to you.” You defended quietly. 
Mapi felt Ingrid’s hand slide into hers and grip tight. I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d said. Not I wouldn’t do that, period. Everytime she thought about what you’d written, Ingrid felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Mapi hadn’t gotten home when she did. She wasn’t sure how close she’d come to losing you. She was so scared. 
Ingrid had never been good at letting you see how she was feeling, and maybe that was why, until this point, you’d gone out of your way to hide your own emotions from her. She decided to take Mapi’s advice from the night before. Just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her. 
Ingrid approached you like she was worried you would lash out at her, which may have been fair. When you made no move to step away from her, she carefully stood directly in front of you, and put her hands on your shoulders. 
“What you wrote really scared me. I’m not mad, solstråle, I’m just really scared. And I trust you, I do, but if I left you here alone, I would just worry, and we haven’t talked yet, and I have no idea what you’re thinking other than the things you said on that piece of paper. So it would make me feel a lot better if you came with us to training today.” 
You blinked up at her for a minute, before you slowly nodded your head. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.” 
Ingrid seemed equally as surprised as you did, removing her hands from your shoulders, and gesturing for you to go get your bag. Once you’d disappeared from the room, she turned back to her girlfriend, who had a ridiculous grin on her face. 
“Look! You communicated! Like a real human being!” Mapi joked, opening her arms. Ingrid instantly melted into the hug, though she scowled at her girlfriend’s teasing. 
“I communicate.” She said stubbornly. 
“Sometimes,” Mapi allowed. “You’ve definitely gotten better. And you’ll keep getting better because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as determined as you are right now to make sure that your solstråle is okay.” Mapi whispered, kissing the side of Ingrid’s head. 
“My solstråle.” Ingrid smiled. “I started calling her that when she was 3, and she had this shirt with a sun on it. I told her I liked it once, and whenever she saw me sad after that, she’d run off to put the shirt on and come show me. I called her my little solstråle. My sunbeam. She used to be so smiley, María. So happy. She’s so different now.” Very quickly, the smile faded from Ingrid’s face and she held Mapi closer to her. 
“It’s all gonna be okay, mi princesa,” Mapi promised. 
You cleared your throat from the doorway, then, and your sister and her girlfriend sprung apart, blushing like high schoolers caught in an awkward position. “Are you guys done making out?” 
“We weren’t making out,” Ingrid groaned, as you all headed towards the door. 
“No, we only make out after training,” Mapi said seriously.
You made a fake retching sound, Ingrid slapped her girlfriend in the arm, and Mapi laughed to herself, but the tension was broken. And you had smiled, a real smile. Ingrid didn’t care what she had to say to see you smile again, she’d do it. 
--------
As was the norm when you went to training, the younger girls immediately latched onto you, yanking you away from Ingrid and pulling you into some scheme to get back at Mapi for the prank she’d pulled on them last week. It was the usual suspects; Pina,Vicky, Salma, and a couple others pulling you from the room, already giggling. They kindly didn’t say anything about the bruising and cuts on your face, and for that you were grateful, although you did get a few raised eyebrows from the older players. Ingrid watched you go anxiously, only turning her attention away from the door you’d walked out of when Mapi squeezed her hand.
“She’ll be fine.” Mapi promised. Ingrid nodded, but she didn’t stop worrying. And when Mapi went off to work in the gym herself, the Norwegian had no one to pull her out of her head. 
She worried all through the gym session, paying very little attention to what she was supposed to be doing. Which wasn’t normal for Ingrid, and it caught the attention of pretty much everyone. 
Ingrid was staring intently at where you were sitting against the wall in the shade, working on your homework, when Alexia and Frido approached. 
“Everything okay, Engen?” Alexia asked. 
“Yep.” Ingrid said distractedly. 
“What did our dear solstråle do this time?” Frido joked, having known your sister long enough to know precisely why you were living with her. Alexia knew, too, and smiled, joining in on the joke. Until Ingrid’s eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and she turned away from you, wiping harshly at her face. 
“Ingrid? What happened?” Frido wondered, running a hand up and down the Norwegian’s arm, while Alexia looked around anxiously, searching for anyone, anyone on earth, that would be better at dealing with whatever was going on than she would be. 
“It’s a long story.” Ingrid said, her voice cracking. Frido and Alexia exchanged looks, before the captain turned to Jona across the pitch. 
“Ingrid needs her ankle taped!” She shouted, before leading both women off the pitch. Jona nodded knowingly, despite the fact that Ingrid hadn’t done anything to her ankle, and it was rather odd for 2 entire people to accompany her to tape it. Jona knew that Alexia wouldn’t be asking for a minute for Ingrid if she didn’t think it was necessary. 
Ingrid let them pull her into the locker room, rather desperate for some advice and some honesty. Because Mapi loved her too much to tell her how badly she’d really messed up, and both Frido and Alexia were known to be brutally honest. She needed brutal honesty right now. No matter how much it hurt.
-------
You were busy struggling through an essay you were supposed to be writing entirely in Spanish when Frido sat down next to you. One look at her face told you she knew exactly what was going on. You weren’t that surprised. She was your sister’s best friend, and you’d known her for a long time. If there was anyone that Ingrid was going to talk to, it would be Frido. 
Frido always spoke to you in Norwegian, a thing you were endlessly grateful for. It instantly put you at ease, and today was no different, as she tugged playfully at your ear.
“How is my favorite Norwegian?” She asked. 
“I know you already asked your second favorite Norwegian.” You replied jokingly. 
“Why would I ask Caro how you are?” Frido deadpanned. 
You threw your head back, laughing loudly, and Frido grinned, continuing on to tell any and every joke she could think of. 
Ingrid watched from the doorway of the building, and when Mapi turned the corner and saw her watching the two of you, she knew exactly what her girlfriend was thinking. 
Ingrid saw Mapi coming, though, and forced a smile onto her face. “How was the gym?” She asked. 
“Fine. I was distracted though. How is she doing?” Mapi replied, nodding in your direction. 
“Well. She’s joking around with Frido. So, better I assume.” Ingrid said evenly. 
“She’s joking with Frido because Frido speaks her language, and she trusts her, and she didn’t just get into a screaming match with Frido. Frido didn’t read a letter containing her most upsetting feelings. She loves you, Ingrid, she just needs time.” Mapi assured her. Ingrid kissed her cheek softly, very appreciative that her girlfriend always knew what she needed. 
“What if she doesn’t want to talk when we get home?” Ingrid asked, after another minute. 
Mapi sounded wiser than normal when she spoke. Ingrid wasn’t used to her being the voice of reason in their relationship, but she appreciated that the defender always stepped up, and was always willing to be what Ingrid needed. “What happened last night was a big thing. She needs to process, and she needs to take her time with it. She’ll talk when she’s ready. And until then, we keep an eye on her, we give her hugs, and we tell her that we love her, vale?” 
“Okay.” Ingrid agreed. It was going to be a long and difficult evening of not suffocating you with questions, it seemed. She’d do it, though, if it was what you needed. Ingrid thought that she would probably quit football or cut off one of her limbs if that was what you needed. 
-------
You didn’t talk much the rest of the day, as Mapi predicted, and as Ingrid feared. Your sister did her best not to push you, and was mostly successful. Mapi kept the conversation going, able to talk about nothing for hours. She knew exactly which topics to discuss and which to avoid, and she knew how to make both you and Ingrid laugh until your stomachs hurt. Thank god for Mapi. 
You were… relatively alright. Until later that evening, when you got up to head upstairs to finish some homework. You’d accidentally picked up Ingrid’s phone thinking it was yours, and saw a few texts from your mom to her. All about how much she missed Ingrid, how she was thinking of her, how she made Ingrid’s favorite for dinner that night. Nothing about you. You put it back down silently, grabbed your phone, and tried not to think about it, to no avail.
Instead of doing your homework, you sat on the floor of your room, thinking of the fact that your mom had missed your birthday, and not even noticed. Ingrid had, too, but she’d apologized over and over, and she’d promised to take you shopping over the weekend, and to dinner. Ingrid was trying. Your mother hadn’t tried in a while. 
You didn’t realize you were crying until Mapi knocked on the door to say goodnight. She peaked in, frowning when she saw the fresh tears on your cheeks. 
“Hey,” she said softly, carefully lowering herself to the ground next to you, minding her knee. She texted Ingrid to come upstairs, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because I know that you aren’t. But Ingrid and I love you. Ingrid and I want you here. Ingrid and I are gonna fix things, and that is a promise.” 
You registered the words, though you didn’t believe them. Still, you gave Mapi a watery smile and leaned into her a bit. Ingrid’s footsteps were quiet in the hall, but you recognized that she was walking faster than normal. She appeared at your door, then, giving Mapi a meaningful look, and took Mapi’s place, sliding down onto the floor next to you. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and holding tight. It looked as if you were trying to physically hold yourself together. 
“Hey, solstråle,” Ingrid said softly. You murmured a greeting, not moving your chin from your knees, and not turning your gaze towards your sister either. It was quiet for a minute before Ingrid prompted you. “Talk to me, please.” 
You sighed, a tear rolling down your cheek. “‘I just miss Mom.” You said finally. 
Ingrid’s chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were so stubborn, so willful, sometimes she forgot you were just a kid. Just an 18 year old kid living in a foreign country, who missed her mom. “Do you want to call her?” She asked, not very confident in the suggestion, but not really sure what else to say. 
You instantly shook your head. “No. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” 
“Kjære, of course she does,” Ingrid began, but she wasn’t really sure. Your parents were so different, now. And whenever Ingrid called her mom, she never asked about you. She only wanted to hear about Ingrid. Your sister wasn’t stupid, she knew she was their favorite, but she didn’t expect them to write you off completely when you moved to Spain. They seemed happier, now. Without you there. It was something Ingrid couldn’t understand. Neither could you, really, but you had long accepted it. 
“No she doesn’t. I stopped calling her, just to see. 2 months ago. She hasn’t called me once. She doesn’t want me, anymore, Ingrid. I know I was an accident, but if they were going to hate me for ruining their early retirement plans, I don’t know why they didn't just…” 
Ingrid was speechless. At a loss for words, and so so angry. You filled the silence, though, things you’d never said out loud falling out of your mouth like you couldn’t help it. 
“I miss what mom was like before, when I was younger. When you were still at home. I miss that mom. I don’t miss the one that I could call right now.” 
“I don’t understand,” Ingrid said quietly, her hand resting on your head, and pulling you closer to her. 
“Ingrid, I know mom is always nice to you, but,” 
“No, solstråle. I don’t understand her. How she could bring someone so perfect into this world and not want to spend the rest of her life watching you grow up. I’ll never forgive her for how she’s made you feel, and I’ll never forgive myself for not noticing earlier. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it better. I promise you.” 
“Thanks, Ing.” You mumbled, looking up at her for a minute before resting your head on her shoulder. 
The problem was, Ingrid could tell you didn’t believe her. She could see it in your eyes; they were still so guarded and so hurt. You were still angry with her, she knew. You thought she just felt guilty, and eventually she would go back to how she was before. Ingrid didn’t know how to make you believe what she felt and what she told you. She worried so deeply that she wouldn’t be able to. That too much damage had been done, and that maybe she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Late at night, early in the morning, right in the middle of a match, she worried about that. All the time until it consumed her, and all she wanted to do was sit with you, and promise you over and over that she loved you more than anything on this planet. What if you never believed her? 
-------
doesn't everyone feel so much better now!
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rafeandonlyrafe · 14 hours
Text
angel of a daughter
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words: 2.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)
“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.” “i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.
your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.
“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?” 
you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.
“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”
“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.” 
you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.
“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.
“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”
“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”
“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”
“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”
“and you’re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.
“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.
“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”
“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”
“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.
“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.
“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”
he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.
you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”
“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.
“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.
“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby. 
rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.
“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.
“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close. 
“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.
“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”
“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.
“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up. 
“y-yeah.” you nod. 
rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure. 
rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.
“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.
“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.
“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.
“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.
your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.
“never!” you shake your head.
rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.
“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.
“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”
rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.
“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.
“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.” “yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”
“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.
“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.
“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”
you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.
he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands. 
rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.
“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.
“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”
he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.
“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.
“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.
“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.
“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”
rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”
“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”
rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.
“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.
“want it so bad.” you whine. 
“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”
you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.
“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.
“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.
“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.
rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”
you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!” “oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”
“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 days
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4k celebration
congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.
i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴
we made up.
LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration
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in which you can never just bite your tongue
eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3
songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey
warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink
2.6k words
you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.
after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.
maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?
it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.
you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.
“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.
“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.
it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.
“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.
“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.
“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.
there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.
-
turns out, you have to apologise.
you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.
so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.
but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.
“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.
“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.
“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.
“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.
“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.
the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.
you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.
“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.
“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.
your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.
“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.
“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.
“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.
truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.
as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.
“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.
“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.
“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.
“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.
“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.
an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.
“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.
his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.
once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.
“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.
“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.
“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.
“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”
“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.
he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.
“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.
lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.
“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.
“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.
“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”
with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.
“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.
sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.
“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.
“learned your lesson?”
“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.
you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.
still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.
“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.
“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.
you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.
“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.
you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.
“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.
“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.
he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.
“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”
you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.
“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.
“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.
those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.
“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.
you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.
you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.
-
two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.
when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.
“we made up.”
-
oof
-
taglist
@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen
if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D
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angelicsoka · 3 days
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❛ he so likes her! ❜ wiru quinn and jack noticing luke is crushing
PROM NIGHT, l. hughes
word count | 832 words
pairings | luke hughes x best friend!reader, platonic!jack & quinn hughes x reader
summary | luke’s brothers notice his crush on his best friend
prompt | ❛ he so likes her! ❜
warnings | not proofread. no use of “y/n”. mutual pining. reader and luke are oblivious. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i’ve been trying to write but i have very little motivation, but here's this! might make a part two if the people want it :)
being in love with your best friend was horrible. knowing he didn’t feel the same was down right torturous. at least, you assumed he didn’t feel the same.
luke hughes had been your best friend since sixth grade, when one of his buddies cruelly pushed into a locker as you had walked past. luke, angered by his friend’s actions, proceeded to shove him into a locker before going to check on you. the rest was history.
you were the golden retriever to his black cat, the sun to his moon, his ride or die. you two had been through thick and thin together, somehow managing to stay friends when no one else thought you would. 
unbeknownst to you both, jack and quinn had a bet going on how long it would take for one of you to admit your feelings for the other. a bet that had been placed after your senior prom, a night you could never forget.
it was chilly as you sat outside the gymnasium, no longer caring about dirtying up your dress, the night already ruined. you had found your date with his lips locked with another girl, but that wasn’t what hurt the most: it was seeing your best friend slow dancing with girl; a girl that wasn’t you. 
you wiped at the angry and jealous tears as they streamed down your rosy cheeks, angry at yourself for being jealous, angry at yourself for falling for the one boy you could never have.
“hey, there you are! we’ve been look– are you okay?” luke poked his head out the door, concern growing when he noticed the tears that stained your rosy cheeks. you were quick to wipe the remaining tears as luke walked out, letting the door shut behind him. he joined you on the curb as you tried to get rid of the evidence that you had been crying, but it was too late.
“i’m fine, lu. go back in there, have a good time. i’m gonna head home, i’m not feeling the greatest.” you felt guilty about lying to your best friend, not only about not feeling well, but about your feelings.
“you are a terrible liar, you know that?” you couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “fine, don’t tell me, but at least let me drive you home.” you attempted to argue, but luke was stubborn. you both were.
“i don’t want you to miss out on the fun.” you said as luke guided you to his car.
“eh, i wont be missing any fun when the life of the party is in my passenger seat.” luke attempted to entice a smile out of you but it just sent a pang to your heart. “plus, i’d rather hang out with you.” he shrugged.
“what about your date?” 
“oh, she snuck off to make out with ex.” you shot him a look of pity, luke shrugging it off as he backed out. “i knew she was using me to make him jealous, but honestly i don't care.” you knew though that luke was hurt by it, at least more than he was letting on. the rest of the ride was silent, your eyes trained out the window until luke drove right past your house.
“luke, you just passed my house.” you looked to your best friend, eyebrows furrowed.
“i know. i figured we could watch a movie.” you internally groaned. he was not helping you get over this crush, that was for sure. still, you went along, following him into the house when you arrived. 
it was late, his parents still out wherever they had gone, and quinn and jack were somewhere around the house. you accepted the sweats and shirt luke offered you, going to change out of your dress. when you entered the living room, luke had already picked out your favorite movie and was microwaving popcorn. you sat on the couch, cuddling into a blanket he had laid out.
luke joined you moments later, handing you the bowl of popcorn and taking a seat next to you. he started the movie, but you couldn’t focus, not with him as close as he was to you.
soon, the tiredness began to take over, your eyes drooping. it wasn’t long before luke heard soft snores coming from you, your head resting on his shoulder. it brought a smile to his face as he too began to fall asleep. that was how quinn and jack found the both of you; luke’s head rested against yours which was on his shoulder. quinn placed a blanket over you both, before taking a picture of you, a smile on both your faces.
“he so likes her.” jack snickered, quinn nodding along.
“i bet you fifty bucks he tells her first.” quinn whispered as he sent the picture to his parents who were rooting for you two to get together.
“make it a hundred but it’ll be her.” they shook on it before you leaving you to rest.
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fairuzfan · 2 days
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I never claimed Biden's policies never hurt anyone, but it is unfair to blame Biden for Covid when Covid began under the Trump administration and it was Trump's actions that led to its severity and damage. Biden at least attempted to mitigate Covid during the first year of his administration, but by then the damage was already extensive and the politicized culture around it made it impossible for Americans to cooperate and regulations to have any real affect. But blaming Biden for Covid is like blaming Hoover for the Great Depression.
Don't get me wrong, I hate Biden too. But no matter how awful our 2024 presidential choices are, they are our only possible choices for president. Our voting systems are messed up. 3rd party votes only work against us and lots of people also just opt out of voting, which is about as equally affective. The electoral college was founded on literal racism and slavery and is still imposed to this day. But that's the system we have to work with. It's rigged. It's awful. I KNOW.
And like I said voting is not the end all of political action, and reading some of these comments, I can understand your anger. For most elections, yes, a vote IS an endorsement and support for a politician. But presidential elections just don't work that same way. When you vote 3rd party, you might as well just handed over your right to vote to your representative. And I guarantee you your representative is either going to vote for Trump or Biden.
The presidential election is NOT the only election on the ballot. And all other elections in the US make it possible for 3rd party candidates to win. I will vote 3rd party wherever possible locally, and I encourage you to do so too.
Still, reading through all these comments, I have yet to hear an actual solution to this problem that is achievable by November. Our choices are Biden or Trump. That's it. I hate it too, but if you have any better, feasible ideas, please let me hear it.
Except it is an endorsement. Biden literally thinks "they'll get over it" (it being the genocide of palestinians) by the time election comes. He thinks that we will vote for him anyways so he'll do whatever he wants. That's literally an endorsement. The reason the Vote Uncommitted campaign is gaining traction is to threaten Biden into doing something. If he doesn't feel threatened, then he assumes we are going to vote for him no matter what. So that means it's an endorsement.
If Biden doesn't listen to us, that's on him for losing the election. Not on the people who want him to do something else. And I don't want trump to win. I don't. But I will never vote for a person who so brazenly killed my friends and family, lied to my face, and was so unbelievably arrogant in that he thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants. Feel free to vote for Biden. Just don't say it's for anyone else.
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Text
"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters
Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.
It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.
Behold! Many shades of brown!
I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.
Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:
"Chocolate and Coffee"
Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)
My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)
Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.
And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!
Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:
I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!
You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.
"Brunette with brown eyes"
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(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)
"Red hair with pale skin"
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“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”
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“blond hair" (period!)
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Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!
I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!
(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))
My Next Challenge:
Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:
Say BLACK!
Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!
You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:
“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”
I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)
Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!
“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”
That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:
No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)
Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!
Conclusion
This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)
A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!
Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!
It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!
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sunafc · 3 days
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Seems like you fell for me again — ft. Suna Rintarou.
cw: wc 3k, fem reader, time skip au kinda, exes to lovers, lovesick suna.
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You lay on the couch letting out a sigh. You take a look at the furniture in your apartment. It’s placed randomly around the room, cardboard boxes are everywhere, the shelves and the walls are completely empty. The couch you’re on is so out of place, in the middle of the room, and you don’t even have curtains on your windows yet. It’s a big mess and it looks kinda sad. You can hear your phone ringing, it’s on the kitchen counter. It takes you a few seconds to get up and walk to it. It��s a call.
‘Sunarin <3’
You read it again, to be sure. But then again, as strange as it may be, you were kind of expecting it. You accept the phone call and bring your phone to your ear, swiftly moving your hair out of the way.
‘Hello?’ You say.
‘Hi,’ he replies and, as you hear his voice, you let out a deep breath. His voice is a bit deeper than the last time you heard it. You can hear him taking in some air, he’s going to say something, but you don’t hear anything. He doesn’t say anything. You can hear the sound of his steps as he nervously walks back and forth.
‘Suna...’ You say. You can’t hear his steps anymore, he stopped.
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ he says and swallows his saliva, ‘So, you are back.’
You assumed this was the reason behind the call.
You had gotten back in Japan just a few days earlier. You and Suna used to live in the same neighborhood when you were in high school so, when you got back in the country and went to see your parents, you also happened to meet Suna’s mom who was taking out the trash. She greeted you, she asked you how you’ve been. It made you feel nostalgic from when you were only sixteen, you would visit her house almost everyday because any excuse was good enough to see Suna. She asked you if you’d seen his son, you told her not yet. You hadn’t even told him you were back, but you figured now his mom was going to let him know.
‘Mhm.’ You mumble, nodding as if he could see you. You lean on the counter, waiting for him to say something but, again, you can only hear faint sounds of him moving around. It’s as if you had him right in front of you, you could vividly imagine him in his house, on the phone with you. He has a hand in the pocket of his sweats as the other holds the phone, he’s walking around the room with his head thrown back as he looks at the cieling.
He takes a deep breath, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Oh, Suna...’
You have thought of it, of telling him you were coming back. Doubts flooded your mind and you were still weighing the options today.
‘We haven’t talked in so long, I—’ Your voice dies in the back of your throat, ‘I didn’t know if you wanted to know.’
‘I did.’
You’re not sure what to say to that, so you say nothing. You can hear the sound of water being poured in a glass, then you hear him drink it down.
‘Can I see you?’ He asks in a whisper.
‘Yeah, of course.’ You say softly and you can feel a smile forming on your face.
When the phone call ends you stare outside the window lost in thoughts. The realization of how much you’ve missed him just now sinking in as you remember your break up years ago.
You had told Suna about going to college abroad months prior to your graduation. You were walking together after his volleyball practice. He was holding your hand and you were looking at your shoes as you told him.
He stopped walking, ‘You’re leaving?’
You looked at him with tears already forming in your eyes, ‘It’s a great opportunity Rin...’
‘Oh no yeah I know, sweet girl, and I want you to go, obviously,’ he got closer to you and wiped your tears, ‘I’m just going to miss you.’
‘I'll miss you too.’ You said and you couldn’t help the tears from falling down your cheeks.
‘What are you so sad about, I thought this was what you wanted... and besides, it’s just for a few years,’ he hugged you and ran his fingers through your hair, ‘Are you going to miss me that much?’
You stepped away from him, ‘I think it’s best if we break up.’
For a moment he doesn’t say anything. It’s just you two standing on the sidewalk as the cars pass by in the street. Then you could see his eyes getting glossy and you wanted to move, to get closer to him, to get back in his arms, to tell him you take it back. Your legs wouldn’t move and no sound was coming out of your mouth.
‘Why?’ He asked fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.
‘I—’ more tears fell from your eyes, ‘We won’t be able to see each other and,’ your heart was physically hurting, as if it was continiously being stabbed, ‘I’ll be busy with studying and you’ll be busy with volleyball...’
A car passes by outside your window, bringing you back to reality. Suna agreed to meet you at your apartment and help you moving in. You go to your room to get changed out of your sleepwear, anxiety starts growing inside you at the thought of seeing Suna again after so long. You start wondering what he’ll think of you now, of how he’s changed. What does he look like now? Is he taller? Did he change his haircut? You think that maybe you look a little lame, you’re still tired from the long flight and the dark circles under your eyes don’t help your case. It all feels like when you were just a teenager with a silly crush on your neighbor, when you’d spend hours deciding what to wear the next day to school just so his gaze would linger on you a little longer. You take one last look at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding that your hair looks fine enough and then, your doorbell rings.
You open the door and you’re met with his beautiful green eyes. You fight the urge to run in his arms and you try to hide the smile creeping up on your face.
‘Hi,’ you say letting him in, ‘Sorry for the mess.’
You take a better look at him, he is taller and his hair is shorter. It suits him, you think.
‘Hey,’ he greets you, he takes off his shoes, ‘You look good.’
You smile, ‘I think I’ve looked better, but thank you.’
He goes wandering around every room to check out your apartment. In your bathroom he notices the toothpaste you have sitting on your sink, it’s still the same brand you used to buy when you were younger. In your bedroom he takes a look at your bedsheets, they are the same you had on your old bed when he slept at your house for the first time.
‘Do you want something to drink?’ You ask from the kitchen. You open the fridge, ‘I don’t have much to offer though...’ you mutter under your breath.
‘Mh...’ he takes a peak inside your fridge sneaking behind you, he grabs the cranberry juice bottle and studies it, ‘This seems nice.’
You smile and move to get him a glass, ‘Here.’
‘This place is cool,’ he takes a sip of the red drink, ‘You just need to settle in, right now it looks a bit... anonymous.’
‘Yeah I’m just a little overwhelmed, still so many things to unpack and all that furniture to move...’
The awkwardness from your phone call is soon replaced by the familiarity of being together. You catch up on each other lives, he tells you about his volleyball team and his matches, you tell him about your studies and your exams. He’s happy, you notice. He has a genuine smile on his face as he tells you about his latest practice. You’re happy too, that he’s here. That he’s talking to you, you’re happy to listen to him. Happy to see him, to notice all the little habits he still has. The way he taps his fingers on the glass he’s holding as he talks, how he leans back in the chair he’s sitting on, the way he keeps intense eye contact with you for a few seconds, that feel like hours, just to move his gaze somewhere else and catch you staring when he looks back at you. You’re happy to see he’s, somehow, the same old Suna Rintarou you once knew.
‘Enough about volleyball,’ he gets up from the chair, ‘I’ve come here to help.’
So you get to work and after a couple of hours the room looks completely different to what it looked like that morning. Your sofa is still in the middle of the room, but now there’s a low table in front of it and the beautiful carpet your mom gifted you is beneath it. All the cardboard boxes are piled in a corner still waiting to be emptied, but at least it’s tidier. Suna helped you move every piece of forniture exactly where you wanted and now, your windows even have curtains.
‘Way better.’ You say with both your hands on your hips, looking satisfied.
Suna hums beside you, ‘So what do I get for helping you?’
‘Oh and here I thought you just wanted to spend time with me,’ you roll your eyes at him, ‘What would you like? And don’t joke about anything sexual, you idiot.’
‘Ah, too bad then...’ He smirks then his expression changes to something more sincere, ‘How about you stop calling me Suna, mh?’
You know exactly what he means and you can feel your cheeks getting warmer, you avoid his gaze as you say ‘Alright, Rin.’
You don’t miss the shit-eating grin that forms on his face, and you can’t help but smile yourself. Suna suppresses the temptation to pick you up and spin you around, to hold you, to get closer to you and to vomit a love confession right there in that instant. He prides himself in being good at hiding his true feelings, so he acts indifferent and tells you it’s time for him to go but, when you walk him to the door and say bye to him, the sun is hitting you just the right way. Your kind eyes look even prettier and you look drop-dead gorgeous, he feels like sixteen again wearing his heart on his sleeve for you.
He can’t help the words from escaping his lips as he leaves and says, ‘Bye, love you.’ And he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying because his mind feels like any teenage girl’s notebook: filled with heart doodles and your name on every page, written in pink glittery gel pen.
You on the other hand, you realize what he’s saying, your mind is muddled with thousands of different thoughts running wild and your heart is racing. You wonder why he said that and you find yourself overthinking once again.
You close the door and let out a loud groan.
It’s been almost a week since that ‘Bye, love you.’. Suna came to your house again, he helped you some more, there are only a couple of cardboard boxes left to unpack. Now when you look at your apartment, it feels like you. There are pictures on the wall, books on the shelves, colorful notes sticking to your fridge with magnets of every shape. Your bathroom cabinet filled with products and in your bedroom, you already formed a pile of clothes on a chair. Suna even helped you with your grocery for the week and yet, no one addressed those two words. Now it’s getting late but you’re not tired yet. You’re laying on your couch watching some show on netflix when your phone starts ringing and, as you read ‘Sunarin <3’ on the screen, it all feels like déjàvu.
‘Hello.’ You answer. You wait for a response on the other line but you can only hear the noise of cars passing by and people talking in the background.
‘Hi?’ You try again and this time you can hear Suna asking someone if it’s your voice he heard, then you hear someone else saying ‘Shut yer trap, Suna.’
Someone finally talks to you, ‘Hi, Y/n, it’s Samu.’
‘Oh, hey, is everything alright?’
‘Yeah look, we went out to drink and Suna here got a little too tipsy.’
You can hear Suna and Atsumu arguing but you can’t make out the exact words, still, the mental image makes you smile.
‘He wants to see ya.’ Osamu says.
You hear Suna in the background asking to talk to you, Osamu probably moves the phone away from him as you hear vague noises in the distance.
‘Should I take him home or can I bring him to ya?’
Your brain is slower than your mouth and the words just escape from your lips as you tell Osamu your new address.
When the doorbell rings you rush to the door and you’re met with Atsumu, in the back you see Suna with an arm around Osamu’s shoulders as they carefully make their way to your apartment.
As soon as Suna lays his eyes on you a grin shows up on his face and you can’t help but reciprocate it. The twins leave the boy in your care before saying their goodbyes. You close the door behind you and when you turn around you’re quick to be engulfed by Suna’s arms. He was always a clingy person, and even more so when drunk. You missed being embraced by him, his warmth, his touch, him.
‘I missed you while you were gone.’ He says as he thigthens his arms around your body.
It feels like he’s ripping your heart from your chest with his bare hands.
‘Did you miss me too?’ He asks with pleading eyes.
When you broke up with him, when you left, you also left a part of you behind. A part of you that, by then, was not yours anymore but Suna’s.
You avert your gaze from him, ‘Come on, let’s go, you need water,’ you try to push him towards your kitchen, ‘Please, Rin.’
You get him to sip some water then you walk him to the bathroom. You make him sit on the edge of the bathtub, in front of the sink, and you push his hair back with a headband.
‘I’m gonna wash your face, you’re sweaty and you stink.’
He nods to that, he let’s you do wathever you want, happy that you’re there with him, that you’re paying attention to him. You do your whole skincare routine on his face as it reminds you about the many times he did it for you. When you’re done, you place little dots of moisturizer on his skin then start massiging it to spread it out evenly. Suna is keeping his eyes closed, giving you the chance to admire his face and skin as much as you want. You trace the shape of his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his nose and you can’t stop your thumb from grazing his lips.
His eyes flutter open in an istant and you run from his gaze lowering your head. He slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. His hands creeps inside your tshirt to feel your bare skin. He caresses your waist and your lower back, you feel your skin tingling under his touch.
You grab one of his wrists to stop him, ‘Rin...’
He moves his hand from your wasit to your hand, he moves up and his long fingers trace meaningless shapes on your inner arm. The air around you seems getting hotter.
‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks.
Your eyes widen and you quickly put an hand over his chest to be sure he won’t move, your heart is racing so fast you swear it’s going to break your ribcage. You want to say yes, you want to feel his lips against yours again, you want his hands in your hair as he pulls you closer to deepen the kiss, you want him biting your bottom lip, you want him grinning against your face, you want to feel his hot breath on you as he tells you he loves you in the middle of the kiss, you want to tell him you love him too. You want to tell him you never stopped loving him.
‘You’re drunk.’ Is what you say.
‘I wanted to kiss you when I was sober too,’ he cups your face with one hand, ‘I always want to kiss you.’
‘You need to sleep.’ You say, but your gaze doesn’t move from his lips.
‘Please,’ he whispers, ‘Just a peck?’
You really want to say yes. He’s looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his lips almost pouting and he just looks too cute with your pink headband holding back his hair. Your thumb graze past his bottom lip again and, before you can stop yourself, you’re lowering your face on his. When your noses meet it’s too late to turn back, you feel his breath on you and your lips part on their own. Soon his lips are on yours. It really is just a peck and it lasts only a few seconds, yet it still makes you feel the butterflies in your stomach and crave for more. You give him another quick peck before caving in and kiss him. You put your arms around his neck and Suna’s hand on your face moves to your nape to keep your head still as he wastes no time slipping his tongue in. His grip on your waist thightens and he pulls your whole body closer. You’re so into the kiss you both forget Suna’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub so, when you lean on him as he pulls you closer, he falls back bringing you with him.
‘Rin oh my god!’ You check if he hit his head, ‘Are you okay?’
He laughs and reassures you everything is alright, he cups your face and gives you another peck, ‘Seems like you fell for me again,’ he says that with a sly mirk, ‘Quite literally.’
You push his hands away, ‘You fell too!’
‘So you’re not denying it?’ He promptly asks.
‘Let’s talk about tomorrow, alright?’ You say after taking a deep breath. You get out of the bathtub and you reach out to him with your hand, ‘Time for bed.’
He grabs your hand and leaves the bathtub, ‘Y/n?’
‘Mh?’ You murmur as you look for a tshirt for him to change into.
‘I lov—’
You throw the tshirt in his face, ‘Don’t say it. Tell me tomorrow.’
He smiles at you and pulls you in a hug, ‘Okay, don’t worry, I will remember.’
You smile hugging him back, ‘You better.’
280 notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 3 days
Text
could you pretend to be in love? (07/10)
To Dragonstone / Lovers
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: the trip to Dragonstone arrives and things between you and Aemond may remain distant or may take a big turn. you are sure of your feelings but does he feel the same way?
word count: 8.4k
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hello!
even i'm surprised that i updated and it didn't take me two or almost three weeks, but here it is!
i'm so happy for the recognition the story is getting, truly, thank you so much beautiful people, i hope you like this chapter a lot too. i'm looking forward to your comments!
After what happened… there was a total change of behavior between you and Aemond.
Even that same day after he didn't drop you off at your house because you told him that Alysanne would be the one to drive you, that night he texted you that there was a party at one of his friend's house.
You didn't reply right away, you just watched the message appear on the top of your screen silently and did nothing.
And after a few minutes he texted you again telling you that if you didn't want to go with him, he was fine with it. And you just texted him back a short; have fun!
But still, you couldn't help but feel completely different, with this strange feeling and a knot in your stomach at having this distance with him.
But he didn't text you again for anything else.
Even also on that same day you saw Helaena, who told you again how sorry she and her mother were still. You also saw Aegon, but he just kept walking, acting completely unconcerned and as if the dinner had never happened.
And now, with things weird and distant with Aemond, today is the trip to Dragonstone.
You assume that you and Aemond will continue to pretend, since there was never a definitive statement where both he and you said you would no longer pretend. But since that night he told you about the party, he and you haven't spoken again.
There's really no plan for the trip. You don't even know if he and you will do this together, as a couple. You just don't know anything.
But you recognize that the two of you made a contract that includes the Dragonstone trip and also ending the fake relationship until graduation. So you prepare yourself despite the circumstances.
Besides you won't be alone, as Alysanne has also signed up for the trip, who just now is keeping you updated on all the things going on in her life as you both drag your respective suitcases along.
"But I don't know if I should say yes to him yet."
You let out a sigh, already feeling tired as you feel the weight of everything in your suitcase. But you can't really blame yourself because it's an all-weekend trip to the beach, so you should have brought everything you needed.
"To who?" you ask with the breath you're gathering, as you tighten your grip on your suitcase.
"Didn't you hear everything I said?" she inquires, "To Cregan."
"Ah… and why don't you know?"
"Well, you know…" she gives you a knowing look, "I don't know, he seems too perfect to me and there must be something wrong with him," she raises her index finger at you, "And he's too popular for my liking."
You frown, still walking as she does, heading toward the buses in the school parking lot that will take you all to Kings Landing port.
"Wait," you say confused, "So he already asked you out?" you look at her slightly surprised, struggling to keep up.
"Yeah," she says casually, "But I don't know."
"Oh come on," you look at her serious, "He's very nice, handsome, funny and a gentleman."
But she grimaces, showing her skepticism.
"Not exactly my type."
You roll your eyes, amused.
Then you both stop behind a line of people waiting to board one of the buses while one of the teachers notes on a list the students' attendance by asking for first and last name, so you have to wait.
"I think you should go out with him," you say, turning to look at her.
"Uhh…" she stares into the void, thoughtfully and doubtfully, "I don't know, bestie."
"He's a good match," you try to convince her, encouraged, "Besides he's already completely crazy about you."
"That's the problem," she sentences, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now. It seems better to me that we both just go out, have fun together and nothing else, no strings attached."
"He probably won't refuse the idea," you shrug, "But tell him and don't leave him waiting with his hopes high."
She snorts, gesturing with her hand.
"He's a man. I'm sure he can handle me never giving him an answer."
You let out a laugh.
"Don't be mean, Alysanne."
"What?" she looks at you innocently.
"Come on, you can do better than that."
"No, I don't think so."
You both let out a laugh now and are about to say something else to him, when a third voice interrupts you in conversation.
"Y/N?"
The two turn their heads and walking towards you, it's Aemond, with a somewhat unsure and nervous posture, which is totally unusual for him, but he's still watching you completely attentively.
He's wearing a white t-shirt and a black jacket over it, which makes him look ridiculously good for a common outfit. But what also catches your attention is how he has a silver chain sticking out from around his neck.
And God… why are you suddenly so nervous about being in front of him?
"Do you have a minute?"
You look uncertainly at him and then at Alysanne, having no idea what to say, further increasing your nerves.
"Hum—
"Go," Alysanne says to you, "I'll wait in line for both of us."
"Oh… all right."
You reply, smiling a little in her direction, only to walk over to Aemond and both of you step back a little so you can talk more privately.
And it's at that moment that your heart starts beating like crazy and you bite your lips, crossing your arms over your chest, nervous and a little… embarrassed.
"Listen," he starts to say, in a low and soft voice, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry for the way I reacted the other day," he tells you sincerely, "I'm sure I made you feel uncomfortable and to some extent trapped but believe me that was never my intention. Nor was it my intention for things to get weird between us."
"Yeah, yeah, I understand, don't worry," you nod, trying to hide your nerves and trying to look unconcerned, you too wanting to put this behind you, "I'm sorry too for trying to end it all that way."
"No, it's not okay," he assures you, "I just didn't understand anything and got frustrated," he admits to you gently, "And that wasn't right of me. Now I know how overwhelmed you must have felt with everything that happened."
"I-I guess I got scared and that was the easiest way I could think of to end it all when that wasn't right on my part either. After all… we have a contract—
"The contract thing doesn't matter," he interrupts you with a nonchalant gesture, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "The important thing is that we're both okay and that we don't distance ourselves from each other."
You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at hearing his words.
"Yeah, you're right."
"So… everything good?" he asks you completely attentively.
"Yes, all good," you assure, wanting to put any misunderstandings behind you.
He is about to say something when one of his friends calls out to him from the line to board the bus.
"Aemond!"
You both turn your heads and his friend along with the teacher in charge watch him intently from the bus doors.
"I need to see your signed permission form, son," the teacher tells him.
He nods and goes back to watching you.
"I'll see you inside," he says before walking away towards his friend and you nod.
You walk back with Alysanne to the line and watch Aemond just a few feet in front of you, talking to the professor, and then he and his friend carry their bags up to the bottom compartments of the bus, eventually moving up the line.
And God… this is the sense of relief you so desperately needed to finally feel. Knowing that you're going to do this with Aemond, all about Dragonstone, relieves and excites you.
However, you should have assumed that even then things would get weird, because the feeling doesn't last long when you see Floris approach Aemond and the two of them start talking.
At first you don't think anything of it, but then, you see the way Floris approaches and behaves towards him.
A tingle of jealousy begins to bubble deep in your stomach as you watch the two of them talk. You also watch as some students watch the two of them and then you, standing apart, with curious and mischievous looks, surely waiting for the drama.
It's as if everyone knows what Aemond and Floris once were, only to then watch you, the new girlfriend, fade into the background after Floris has returned to school.
And Aemond's behavior towards you comes back to your mind.
He himself told you that he did not expect to see her again, so on another plane and in other circumstances, if Floris had not left the school, you are absolutely sure that Aemond would have required her help, totally.
And this between him and you would never have happened.
And maybe… Aemond is still interested in Floris, just as she seems to be still interested in him. But he can't do anything about it because he already has an agreement with you, he's stuck with you.
This relationship is fake, remember?
Your mind tells you, since for Aemond it's not real, but rather pure convenience, just an act, but for you… it's getting harder and harder to ignore the feelings that arise inside you.
Is it possible that your feelings are more real than you have allowed yourself to believe?
You watch as Aemond seems to want to subtly pull away from her to have his own space, but Floris moves closer again, as if they both share something that only the two of them know and that's why she has the confidence, even though he has a girlfriend, to act that way with him.
Which only makes you more annoyed and jealous.
But finally the line starts to move forward and you decide you won't give it any more thought. What's the point of worrying about something that, in theory, isn't real?
You board the bus behind Alysanne, where everything inside is full of excitement and energy, with students talking and laughing as they settle into their seats.
Then your gaze almost instantly meets Aemond's as you look at the seats, sitting in one of the first seats with the seat next to him empty, watching you intently and with a small smile on his lips, clearly waiting for you.
The temptation to go sit next to him is strong, but you decide to ignore it and keep walking behind Alysanne, passing him. And that instantly makes him react.
"Hey, hey," he quickly stands up and gently takes you by the arm, watching you with his soft gaze reflecting bewilderment, "Where are you going?"
Your nerves dissipate and you try to come up with a good excuse.
"Hum… you know, to sit with Alysanne," you point to your friend.
He follows your gaze but frowns, confused.
"But don't you think we should sit together?"
You stay silent for a few seconds, watching him intently and nervous, trying to come up with a better excuse. But he speaks again, trying to convince you.
"I packed snacks for both of us on the way and thought maybe we could watch a movie or something."
"Maybe on the way back," you say with an apologetic look, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.
And he frowns slightly, his gaze reflecting a mixture of disappointment and confusion as he tries to understand your behavior.
The two of you a few moments ago spoke, the two of you apologized to each other and you especially said that everything was okay or not? That's what keeps him confused, not understanding why the two of you are suddenly continuing this distancing, noticing your efforts to pull away from him.
"Come on," he insists, "Let Cregan sit with her."
"I'm sorry, Aemond," you say, "But I promised her I'd sit with her."
He seems to want to argue back, but you waste no more time and finally walk past him, moving away from him straight toward Alysanne in one of the seats almost at the back.
Aemond with a serious look sighs resignedly, feeling the disappointment inside, confused and with disillusion, not really understanding anything.
And when you arrive together with Alysanne, just as you take your seat, you look back to where Aemond is with a worried look and at that moment Floris appears, stopping in front of him with a small sweet smile on her lips.
"Will someone sit here?" she asks politely even though she already knows the answer, her tone with a familiarity that makes you stir in your seat.
Aemond turns his gaze back to you with a mixed expression of seriousness and disappointment before answering Floris.
"No," he replies with some annoyance, dropping back into his seat with a droopy attitude.
Floris complacently takes a seat next to him and you watch everything from afar, telling yourself that this is all a bad idea, with a swirl of emotions all over you.
So all the way to King's Landing port begins, where you distract yourself listening to music and avoid looking towards the seats where Aemond is with Floris.
At all times you feel this uncertainty and this unpleasant feeling that does not leave you in peace, even makes you feel sad, but Alysanne by your side manages to distract you in some moments.
Until you finally arrive at the port and in organized groups, the teachers make sure that all the students board the ferry that goes directly to Dragonstone.
Everyone around you starts taking pictures and videos of the wonderful view the ferry offers of Blackwater Bay, excited to get to Dragonstone.
And you start looking for Aemond with your eyes, finding him leaning on the ferry's railing with one of his friends next to him, both talking, but he has a more thoughtful expression as he gazes out at the ocean.
Despite being surrounded by people and his friends especially, he is distant. And you know he's like this because of you.
For one reason he asked to talk to you and clear up what happened between the two of you. You assured him that everything was fine and then pushed him away.
But can you really blame yourself?
You're fucking scared.
And for a reason Floris acts that way with him, because whatever there once was between the two of them, it's not over yet, you can feel it. And you have no right to reproach him for that because this is not real.
Still… it's better for you to start slowly pulling away from him and put on a show when it's really necessary. But how will you be able to do this together when things are like this?
That's why the uncomfortable feeling on the bus persists and Alysanne tries to distract you by taking pictures of the view, a selfie of the two of you together or by herself.
But despite these efforts, you can't stop thinking about Aemond and watching him from time to time.
Until the ferry finally docks at Dragonstone Island and the students begin to walk ashore with their suitcases in hand, full of excitement and high expectations for what awaits them this year on site.
And since you have never visited Dragonstone before, you watch in complete awe and amazement as the majestic and imposing modern castle stands before you almost on the water's edge.
It looks like a living museum, offering the relics of Old Valyria and its history, paying homage to the ancient house Valyria, a royal family that once ruled Westeros with the legend of having tamed dragons in their Reign.
The entire castle is made of stone, as well as its surroundings and all it has to offer.
And once inside, everything is majestically structured and spacious, with architecture of royalty, preserving that touch and the one that many decades ago a royal and powerful family lived here.
With a male guide, who is also chaperon of this 'excursion', he welcomes all the students and begins to guide them through the main corridors of the castle.
You are amazed to see the numerous display cases with ancient swords that had forged the history of the Valyrian house, as well as other possessions, be they wardrobes or jewelry of gold, silver and other precious stones.
There are also portraits of the ancient Kings and Queens who had ruled, as well as portraits of princes and princesses with the name, date of birth and date of death.
Being your first time in this place, it is obvious that you are excited compared to other students who have come here before and just want to have fun.
But you sense how the atmosphere is steeped in history and mystery. So you can't wait to learn more about this history that was in an ancient and legendary world.
"For those who don't already know, there are various activities you can do during your stay on the island," says the guide man, "You can enjoy the beach and swim in our crystal clear waters, but you can also dive with professional instructors to explore the coral reefs and marine life, as well as we also offer surfing lessons for beginners."
"I want to try surfing," Alysanne says next to you, without both of them letting up, and you watch her in surprise.
"Really?"
"I don't plan to dive, I feel like I'll go crazy with claustrophobia with so much suit and gear on me, not to mention you can't talk," she tells you with a grimace, "And swimming is so boring. I want something more exciting."
"And you can handle that?"
"Please, I can handle anything," she says with a certain superiority, making you laugh, "And what do you plan to do? Obviously not surf but then what?"
"Hum…" you think about it for a moment, "I don't know, maybe I'll visit the huge library and learn more about the history of this place and the whole Valyrian family."
Alysanne looks at you completely expectantly and showing you how much your answers have bored her.
"Are you serious?"
"We also offer a tour of our small aquarium located in the depths of the castle, where you can see a variety of fish and sea creatures," he man goes on to mention, "And lastly, we offer rides on our yachts and scooters along the coast, there are also paddle boarding lessons along our peaceful canals that meander through the island."
You look back at Alysanne beside you.
"Or maybe I'll join the paddling classes," you say with a shrug.
But that only makes Alysanne look at you like you're a hopeless case, sigh, and continue moving on, not telling you any more about your plans or she's afraid it will make you feel bad.
And you let out a little laugh, since of course you also want to enjoy the beach and also want a yacht ride.
And as all the students continue to move forward and you along with them, you still feel the tension between you and Aemond, who is moving a few meters ahead of you with his friends.
Despite the beauty and excitement of Dragonstone, still this uneasiness continues to weigh on your being.
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First night at Dragonstone and you've already been left alone.
Alysanne stated that she wanted to enjoy the luxurious bathtub in the room to immerse herself in a relaxing spa experience, so that's what she's doing now before starting the rough activities tomorrow.
And meanwhile you're stealing snacks from the huge kitchen since you've prepared one night of movies for yourself, which isn't a bad plan.
So with your pajamas on, you go back to the room, thankful that you didn't have any awkward encounters with anyone. In fact you were hoping to run into him, but that hasn't happened and you have no idea where he must be.
So with your snacks in hand and in the huge hallway where your room is located, you struggle a bit to open your door with your hands full, when someone enters the same hallway where you are.
"Hey Y/N."
You turn your head and meet Cregan, causing you to place a smile on your face in his direction.
"Hey Cregan."
He watches you with a small amused smile.
"Do you need help?"
"Well, I-I…" you try one more time, but everything is about to fall out of your hands, "Yeah," you finally agree.
He helps you with your snacks and also opens the door for you, then watches you curiously.
"Are you preparing one night of snacks and probably watching movies with Alysanne?"
"No," you reply laughing softly, "No, I—
"Ah, so you're going with Aemond to the hot tub," he interrupts you in a casual tone, assuming.
Confused by that revelation, you try to process the information, but before you can even pretend and react, which you really don't and remain silent like a fool, he notices and looks at you slightly confused.
"Oh, well... on my way here saw him alone in the hot tub and thought you were going with him."
And just then it happens.
Something snaps inside you.
An overwhelming sense of need overwhelms you from head to toe, you can't help it and you can't take it anymore.
You need to talk to someone about the truth and release everything you've been accumulating these past few days. But you know that if you do that, you would be breaking a contract rule.
But the thought of still holding all this in and not being able to talk to anyone about what's really going on is unbearable.
Alysanne would freak out and you have no one else to talk to. It's not like you have a lot of friends. So thinking hard, you quickly map out a plan in your mind and decide to confide in Cregan.
"Do you have a moment?" you ask with a lump in your throat.
Cregan gets confused and looks hesitant.
"Well, I—
"Alysanne is relaxing in the tub, she won't be out of there for a while and I really need to talk to someone about this," you plead.
And that's enough for Cregan to walk into the room behind you as he sees your face like you're about to explode and you tell him everything.
And God, it's a complete relief to be able to speak freely, without the pressure of keeping up the farce.
And you start by explaining to him why you decided to fake a relationship, and then tell him these feelings that you can't ignore anymore, as well as explaining everything you're feeling about Floris and how things are between you and Aemond.
And by this point, Cregan is very comfortable sitting on your bed, eating from your snacks while you wander around your room talking freely about everything that comes to your mind and he listens attentively.
"I'm completely crazy, aren't I?"
You watch him completely frustrated and looking for support, as the ideas and thoughts keep coming uncontrollably into your mind.
"I mean, this is fake," you clarify, waving your hands as you speak, "This wasn't supposed to happen, he just asked me for help and I asked for something in return to accept. And he clearly doesn't feel the same way I do."
You look at him in exasperation, worried.
"And I know I acted wrong with him this morning on the bus but—" you sigh, "You should have seen how he reacted when he saw Floris at school again. This whole thing with Aemond probably wouldn't have happened if Floris hadn't left school, it's obvious there's still something between the two of them and that makes me feel… so upset and so jealous when I shouldn't!" you exclaim frustrated, "And I find it best to just stay away from him so I can stop feeling all this and my big mouth won't even think of telling him how I really feel."
"Y/N—
"I'm right, right?" you don't let him speak, watching him completely intently and worriedly, "I'm crazy."
Cregan smiles softly in your direction in an attempt to comfort you and shakes his head, as he takes another bite of a chocolate bread.
"No, not at all," he replies sincerely, "You're just being honest with yourself and me."
You stop in front of him, fiddling nervously with the fingers of your hands.
"I had to blurt it out," you say dejectedly, "I'm so confused. And you have to promise not to tell anyone," you tell him instantly.
"I promise," he tells you instantly too, nodding.
"So what do you think?"
He lets out a long breath before answering, watching you calmly and quietly, preparing in his mind what he will tell you next, while you wait desperately and anxiously.
"Listen, I think it doesn't matter that the two of you have been pretending all this time, but Aemond likes you, a lot."
He assures you and your heart leaps, parting your lips and watching him completely intently.
"I've seen the way he stares at you—
"Have you already forgotten that all this time we've been pretending?" you interrupt him in exasperation.
"And you think you can fake a look of love if he's not really in love?" he asks you, expectantly.
You let out a sigh, bringing a hand to your forehead, massaging your temples.
"That doesn't matter, I feel he still has feelings for Floris and I'm just another fool who fell in love with Aemond Targaryen," you look at him hopelessly, "And if you think about it, it's embarrassing."
"Okay, let's analyze the facts," he says confidently, incorporating himself better on the bed, "The fake relationship was his idea, you set most of the important rules and you're the one who wants to end the relationship, but you're here locked in your room preparing a movie night for yourself alone while he's waiting for you in the hot tub," he tells you condescendingly while pointing at the door with his thumb.
You watch him completely attentively, almost hesitant and unsure, thinking about it.
"And if you think about it precisely, yes, Aemond and Floris had something but it was nothing serious, he later went back to Alys and now that he erased Alys from his life, there is you and no one else," he explains to you, "Floris' return means nothing because he could have told you that it was better to end the fake relationship when he saw her again, but he didn't tell you anything, it was you," he assures you, "And yes, maybe you fell in love first, but eventually he also fell in love with you and harder."
Cregan's every word hits you like a wave of revelation, making you rethink your perceptions and doubts.
Maybe, in the midst of all this confusion, conflict and your doubts, Cregan is right.
Maybe Aemond really is in love with you, despite the fake relationship, Alys and Floris… maybe he is and the thought is as overwhelming as it is comforting.
If so… then what will happen?
You don't know but wanting to find out excites and scares you at the same time.
"Do you think he's waiting for me in the hot tub?" is the only question you can utter out of the thousands in your mind, watching him hopefully.
"Of course," he gives you an obvious look.
So you waste no time.
You leave on your pajamas of silk shorts with a tank top of the same fabric and throw a coat on over them. It's not really cold but the air here on the island is frosty enough for you.
And as you step outside a part of the castle where the hot tub is located, with your heartbeat echoing in your ears, you are greeted by a cool, salty breeze that caresses your skin.
The hot tub area is illuminated by a series of lights hanging from the ends of the trees, creating a calm and relaxing atmosphere. But what stands out the most is the blue light of the hot tub.
And there you see him.
You focus on the lone figure of Aemond as you move forward, who has his back to you, gazing off into the horizon, thoughtful while also distracted by the bubbles the hot tub is making around him.
You pause for a moment, watching him from a distance, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your chest.
The silver chain around his neck shines with a soft glow from the blue light, adding a touch of mystery to his profile, just as his white skin glows slightly from the glint of water on his skin.
The sound of the hot tub echoes in place, as well as the ocean waves outside and with nerves blocking your mind, you finally approach him, with quiet determination.
"Mind if I join you?"
You say to him with some insecurity and in a soft tone, hugging yourself, nervous and attentive.
Aemond turns his head towards you and his eye meets yours.
And if his gaze reflected surprise, he quickly turns back to an unexpressive face and without saying absolutely nothing to you, where you also tried to smile a little at him, he turns his gaze back to the front.
And you don't let it get to you, at least not yet.
"What? Now you're going to ignore me?"
And thankfully that's enough to make him talk to you. At least a little bit.
"Oh now I'm the one ignoring you?" he retorts bitterly, without even looking at you, "That's funny."
And he continues to turn his back on you, without saying anything else, to which you let out a long breath and without giving up yet, thinking about what Cregan told you and also considering your feelings, you approach him.
With hesitant steps, you climb the steps leading to the entrance of the hot tub and approach the edge, feeling the warmth of the water and the gentle steam rising in the air.
Feeling Aemond's gaze on you, you take a seat on the edge and dip your feet into the water as you return his gaze, which makes your heart pound in your chest again.
He is completely beautiful.
And the words don't come out of your mouth as you are hypnotized for a moment watching the flashes of light on his serene face with his flawless skin and those features that make him look so handsome.
But you finally focus.
"Well, I'm sorry this is my first trip here and I have no idea how to do the activities when you didn't even offer to guide me," you foolishly try to justify yourself.
"Oh and now I'm supposed to guide you after you ignored me on the bus?" he inquires.
You feel the blood rise to your cheeks and look away for a moment, embarrassed.
"Well, I thought I should do you a favor," you admit sheepishly, not really knowing what to say.
And you just had to say that?
Your mind reproaches you.
"Favor?" he repeats in confusion, "What favor?"
"It's obvious Floris is still interested in you," you explain, "And you and she had a thing in the past so was it better for her to sit down with you or not?"
Fucking fool.
Your mind keeps reproaching you, but you don't know why you had to say that either!
And you know it was really bad as Aemond makes a gesture of exasperation on his face and shakes his head as he averts his gaze from you and stretches out both arms to the edge of the hot tub.
"You know?" he starts to say in a frustration-laden tone of voice, watching you "For being such a good student… you can be really dumb sometimes."
You frown, bewildered by his words.
"What?"
"I wanted to sit with you, Y/N," he tells you in exasperation, wanting to make you understand, "Not with Floris or anyone else, just you," he says, his tone softening as he looks at you intently.
Oh.
Yes, oh.
Now you feel stupid and of course you should feel exactly that way.
And as Aemond's words echo in your mind, you feel a mixture of emotions inside you.
On the one hand, a sense of relief and joy finds its way into your chest as you hear his sincere words and know that he wanted to be with you. But you are also overcome with a slight embarrassment at your initial lack of understanding.
And because of the same nerves and how stupid you still feel, a soft laugh escapes your lips at his confession.
"So, Floris…
You let the words float in the air, as you watch him with that insecurity in your gaze.
"Floris was just a one time thing in the past. She doesn't interest me anymore," he assures you gently and firmly, completely honest.
You both remain silent for a moment, only hearing the bubbling of the hot tub, where you mostly admire how the blue light reflects all over his body and face, looking so fucking good.
Not to mention he has no shirt on.
You can feel the electricity in the air as he watches you with his face softer compared to a few moments ago, there's also almost adoration and hope, all just the same way you're watching him.
Then you break the silence.
"I'm sorry I didn't sit with you on the bus," you say sincerely.
And he makes a nonchalant gesture with his hand.
"It's all right."
And once again, silence envelops you as you both sink into the intimate and complicit atmosphere that surrounds you.
Then once everything has been 'cleared up' somehow, you sit up and take off your coat, to begin soaking in the hot tub along with him, causing him to watch you attentively and in confusion.
"You're going in your sleeping clothes?" he asks in a doubtful tone.
"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you reply, stopping in front of him and allowing yourself to enjoy the shared quiet and intimacy along with the warmth of the water.
You watch as his gaze sweeps over your body, mostly focused on watching the way the water envelops you in just the same way he does and you don't stop, as you position yourself right in front of him, your face inches from his.
And already starting to feel a little embarrassed by his burning gaze on you, you say the first thing that comes to mind.
"You know, I've never seen you without that chain," you say, feeling your knees bump against his thighs.
He smiles slowly, showing off his perfect aligned white teeth, marking each cheek with his beautiful dimples, having a knowing glint in his eye that is reflected as he inspects your face.
"It's part of me," he replies, in a soft, deep, husky voice than usual that sends shivers down your spine, "But I think I might make an exception tonight."
And before you can fully comprehend his words, you feel Aemond's hand on your thigh from under the water, sending a surge of electricity through your body.
Surprised, he makes you sit on his lap, while his other hand rests on your waist, drawing you to him gently but with remarkable determination, surprising you and making you feel instantly nervous.
You place your hands on his shoulders, seeking stability, as you watch him with your parted lips, seeing that the space between the two of you no longer exists.
The intensity of his gaze and the softness of his face take your breath away for an instant, reminding you why you are drawn to him in the first place. And a mix of emotions overwhelm you as you realize how much you've been longing for this moment.
Then you both shorten the little distance that separates you and finally you feel the sweet contact.
With no one around, no one else's eyes on you, just the two of you alone here, you kiss.
A slow and deep kiss, where you feel Aemond's lips soft and warm against yours, making you let yourself go and move closer to him if possible, taking one of your hands to caress his cheek.
And his body responds to your caresses, pulling you closer towards him as if he can't get enough, settling better into his lap and tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss, where his hands run down your back, causing his touch to cause electric currents through your body.
Then you both pull away a little with a wet sound from their lips and you watch him directly into his eye, unable to believe this is actually happening, where Aemond breathes through his mouth and brings one of his hands up to your cheek, watching you intently and with that lazy smile.
"What?
With a small smile on your lips, you shake your head.
"Nothing," you reply in a soft tone and that makes him smile a little more, starting to trace your cheek with his fingers and your face with his gaze.
"You don't know what you're doing to me, love," he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse, "The way you make me feel… it's indescribable."
His words wash over you like a comforting warm wave, spreading throughout your chest and causing a sensation to settle in your lower abdomen.
His hand on your thigh slides all over your skin, producing shivers as he pulls you even closer and your whole body trembles slightly from the intensity in his desire as he shortens the distance again and his lips seek yours with a hunger that matches what you are feeling.
And in that moment there is no doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming certainty of the connection that exists between the two of you. And just like him, you let your actions speak for you and everything you are feeling right now.
You deepen the kiss, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses and your fingers gently glide over the skin of his face and run along the contours of his jaw.
"This wasn't in the contract," you murmur against his lips, agitated.
"No, it wasn't," he tells you just as agitated as you are, catching your lips with his again.
Then your other hand comes down on his bare chest, tracing his muscles and feeling the heat of his skin against yours, sending an electric shock that ignites a burning, fierce fire throughout his body.
Aemond moans against your lips and brings one of his hands to the back of your neck, tilting his head and holding you exactly where he wants you, while his other hand travels between the skin of your thighs and your lower back.
Then you decide to move on top of him and his breath hitches as he feels your movement and you too feel a tingle in your crotch.
Both he and you can feel the tension grow between the two of you and suddenly it is as if the world has vanished, existing only him and you with this moment of pure connection and desire.
And with each caress, you feel yourself falling more and more under the spell, lost in the intoxicating, indulgent pleasure you begin to experience. And with his heart beginning to pound, his caresses become more daring and urgent.
You too move with more purpose on top of him, beginning to feel a bulge grow just below your nerve center that caresses him and makes you feel so good.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks against your lips.
"Please don't," you sentence, kissing him again.
You gasp against his lips and you both begin to gasp, feeling Aemond's chest rise and fall every instant, just like yours. And with the warm, comforting water enveloping you both it only makes it feel better.
You run your hands through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead to lean into him and continue kissing him as you continue to roll your hips on top of him, when he pulls away from you and begins to leave a trail of wet kisses from your cheek and down to your neck.
All your skin bristles and you let your head fall back, giving him more accessibility.
"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely into the side of your neck.
And you lean into him again, kissing him, wanting to feel the caress of his lips on top of yours.
But then when the need and desire begins to build to a pace where Aemond thinks he won't be able to stop afterward, he decides to stop right there, pulling away from your lips and making you stop moving.
"Wait," he says to you in a low, husky tone, breathing through his mouth.
You look at him slightly confused, just as agitated as he is.
"What's wrong?" you say with your heart pounding in your chest as you take a deep breath.
He tries to catch his breath, closing his eye and resting his forehead against yours, still holding you above him.
"We can't," he says with some frustration.
You force yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to feel confusion and uncertainty invade you, watching him intently.
"Why not?" you ask in a whisper, still leaning into him.
He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, clearly fighting against the hardness beneath his shorts and keeping you on top of him in a way where you don't touch him or he'll go completely insane.
But his silence only makes you worry and think things that really aren't.
"Or is it that you don't want to do it with me?" you ask fearfully and with embarrassment starting to creep up on you.
"What?" he quickly looks at you, "No, no, that's not what I mean, of course I want to do it with you," he answers you quickly and completely honest, "But we can't do it here."
He points his gaze around you, to again look only at you with that intensity, revealing a mixture of his desires and his inner conflicts.
Oh.
A sense of relief washes over you as you realize it's not rejection, but concern for the circumstances.
"Ah… right," you say with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, also briefly glancing around you, "Sorry, I hadn't thought of that."
Aemond looks at you tenderly, his gaze softening with a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and what you think is love reflecting in its depths, then pulling your face towards him again.
"It's okay, we'll find another time," he assures you, his tone comforting.
You smile softly as you place your hands on both of his cheeks and he kisses you deeply again, causing you to melt into his arms and let yourself be completely carried away.
You feel embarrassed by your misunderstanding, but also grateful for his concern and consideration.
And you don't know exactly how long you both lasted inside the hot tub, just kissing and nothing more, occasionally playing with the bubbles, sharing an intimate and special moment together.
"I missed you," he murmurs against your lips, leaving a soft kiss that makes you smile.
"Me too," you confess, kissing him again.
And though desire still burns between the two of you, you both know it's best to wait and save that moment for a more private and suitable place.
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You still don't know what the fuck happened.
But what you do know is that you went to sleep with a silly smile on your lips and at dawn, you put the same silly smile back on your lips as you remembered everything that happened.
However, surprise and fear also flooded you after remembering exactly everything you and Aemond did.
The two of you were going to have sex.
You were going to have sex with him in a hot tub.
You didn't even care about anything, the fact that they were out in the open, the fact that you weren't physically or mentally ready or even the fact that you and he weren't even real boyfriend and girlfriend.
But you wanted to do it, God, you wanted it and badly.
He was even the one who had to stop everything when on another plane, you probably would have done it, but no. You weren't thinking, you were completely drunk with pleasure and now shame is the only thing you feel all over your body.
You can't even tell Alysanne because of the shame and because you know she won't stop laughing at you. You even plan not to leave the room to avoid running into him. But Alysanne makes you go with her to her first surfing lesson.
And ready for the day as you walk with her down the stairs to the main lobby, you think about how if things with Aemond were already weird and awkward before that moment, now the two of you won't even be able to see each other's eyes.
But to your surprise, that's not what happens.
There are several students and teachers already in the lobby when you see his characteristic silver hair, but before you can react and even think, Aemond walks towards you with a small smile as soon as he sees you and kisses you, surprising you since you definitely didn't expect that.
And of course you noticed the look Cregan gave you both, but more to you specifically, but you just told him with your look that you will talk to him about everything later.
And so you start your activities in Dragonstone, with Aemond.
Of course you first keep Alysanne company in her surfing lessons and after she is totally focused on that, you and Aemond spend time together.
Under the golden sun, painting the horizon with warm hues and golden sparkles on the ocean waves, you both enjoy a walk along the shore of the beach, enjoying the salty air and the sea breeze that envelops you.
You talk about everything and about almost nothing at the same time, him being the first one to dare to hold your hand while you enjoy your little walk, making the blood rise to your cheeks and you enjoy like every teenage girl in love these little moments.
Then you both play a game of volleyball, where you both laugh and have fun as you immerse yourselves in the game.
And clearly from running around so much in the intense sun and getting almost sweaty, you get the idea that you both should swim a bit and surprisingly Aemond doesn't refuse the idea, even though he doesn't know how to swim, but you offer to teach him.
In a gray two-piece bikini, you lead him out into the waves, explaining how to move in the water and breathe properly, causing him to begin to gain confidence and enjoy the sensation of being carried by the waves.
But of course after that would come the laughter and playfulness, both laughing and talking while enjoying the sun and the salt water.
And in that moment, the fun turned into an intimate moment as Aemond holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. There is a silent intention in his gaze as he touches your skin with his burning hand and you don't pull away, on the contrary, you lean towards him.
You wrap your legs around his torso and his lips press against yours in a deep kiss, losing themselves to each other in the middle of the sea.
And when you both separate, you look at each other with a mixture of shyness and affection, while Aemond places a damp lock behind your ear, feeling a pleasant sensation that he can't quite describe envelop him, especially at the moment when you again leave a soft, tender kiss on his lips.
And with beaming smiles on your faces, you both get out of the water and go upstairs to your rooms to bathe and change your clothes.
But then the two of you meet again and he accompanies you to explore the castle together, marveling at the ancient relics and all the history that surrounds the place.
He also accompanies you to the library to take some photos and to the roof terraces where you get magnificent views of the whole island.
And as you both move through the exhibits, Aemond more than anything couldn't resist hugging and kissing you, expressing his affection in every gesture and you of course didn't mind.
And in the castle's aquarium, you both find yourselves surrounded by fascinating sea creatures, sharing tender moments together as you watch the fish swim around.
The sea creatures seem to dance in the water, their bright colors and movements mesmerizing you as you walk among the tanks.
"You are beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, watching you with that bright glint in his eye as he watches the reflection of the sun and water on your face, creating an aura of serenity and beauty around him.
The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you smile shyly, feeling so silly.
"You are beautiful too, Aemond Targaryen."
You lean towards him and leave another soft kiss on his lips that he reciprocates instantly, taking you by the waist and bringing you completely closer to him, wanting to keep touching and kissing you.
But you both continue the little tour holding hands, where you also take pictures together and of everything you see around you, wanting to capture these moments.
And even though he and you haven't really talked about anything, this doesn't feel like you're both pretending. This feels real and you like the way it feels when you are with him, being completely honest and genuine with your feelings.
Then the day goes on as normal and as expected, after doing all the educational activities in a certain way, it's time for the party.
"There will be my friends, Cregan, my sister and well, Alysanne if she wants to come too," Aemond tells you as you both head towards your rooms.
"I'll convince her to go," you assure him.
"Okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes then."
"All right," you smile at him.
He leaves down a different hallway from the one you're heading down since each of your rooms are separate and you're focused on getting ready for this party.
You don't know how, but he and his friends have arranged to take a yacht for the night. Obviously they are not going to ride around in it with the night sky, but apparently they have everything ready for everyone to drink and enjoy a while.
Fortunately you convince Alysanne and the three of you soon arrive at the yacht that is stranded in the west harbor of the island, where Aemond's friends are already there, getting everything ready.
Then the music plays, the LED lights turn on and the drinks begin to be served.
Sitting on Aemond's lap, you didn't think you'd have as good a time as you're having now, laughing and talking to everyone, occasionally hugging and kissing him.
And fortunately nothing unfortunate or unpleasant happens, there is only the company of your friends and you enjoy Aemond's presence, clinging to him at every opportunity, hugging him and singing some songs with him like everyone else, having a good time.
And fortunately in the following days there is no activity you don't do with Aemond, even now if you go for a yacht ride, where you can perfectly see some students and also Alysanne practicing surfing.
You also cheer up with the scooter ride, just like him, completely enjoying the moment and the experience.
And you honestly don't want any of it to end.
general taglist:
You want everything to continue to be perfect.
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@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys
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lighting the fuse might result in a bang
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pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.
author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3
When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 
“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 
“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 
Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.
The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.
There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 
Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 
Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 
“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 
“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”
She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 
You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 
“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”
“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 
“Whose?”
Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.
While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 
Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.
The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 
“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 
“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”
There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 
Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 
It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 
Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 
Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.
Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.
“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 
He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 
It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 
“Then expect to lose.”
The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 
*
Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 
Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 
“Why aren’t you ready?” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 
“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 
In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.
It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 
When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 
Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 
You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 
“Fancy a rematch?” 
It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 
“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 
There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.
You stay put.
“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 
“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.
“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 
“How many beers have you had?” 
“Three, I think?” 
Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 
So you say it anyway. 
“I bet I could outdrink you.” 
“I’d like to see you try.”
He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 
The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 
By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.
“You guys doing okay?” 
“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 
“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 
“Are you going to?” 
He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 
The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.
“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 
Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 
*
It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 
You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 
By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.
Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.
It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.
With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 
Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 
There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 
But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.
So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 
There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 
Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 
“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”
Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 
You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 
You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.
“Mind if I join you?” 
Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.
No one told you Luke smokes. 
You tell him as much.
“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 
“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 
He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 
It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 
“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 
If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 
“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 
“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 
“We can share.” 
It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 
“You’re on, Castellan.” 
As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.
Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 
Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.
You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.
You aren’t as drunk anymore. 
You really wish you were.
It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 
“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 
“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.
What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 
You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 
“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 
He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.
His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.
*
Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 
“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 
“Seriously?” 
She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 
“You bet on it?”
“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 
“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 
“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”
When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 
The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 
It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 
You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.
Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 
If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 
And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.
“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”
“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 
“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 
“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”
It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 
“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 
Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.
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teaboot · 11 hours
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Hey, I think you give good advice. If you don't mind me asking, what qualities do you think make up a good friend? Trying to get better at being that. Thanks in advance
huh. You know, I don't know? I don't think I've ever really thought about that. What to do to be a good friend, specifically, as opposed to simply a good person.
I suppose... assuming your friends are people you trust, then the only difference would be your level of intimacy, perhaps?
My close friends know some rather vulnerable sides of me, and I trust them not to use it against me the same way I know I wouldn't use their soft spots against them.
I suppose being a good friend is less of a checklist of duties and more like... wanting them to be happy, and knowing that they want you to be happy, too.
I'd say some good places to start are respect, consideration, communication, and boundaries.
I respect my friends. I admire them. I try to check in on how their lives are going, how they're feeling and how their other relationships are, especially after they've listened to me vent or hinted at other things going on, or if they're behaving unusually or seem down.
I try to tell them often that I care about them, and back that up with actions when possible- offer help, do small gestures that show I think about them, listen without judgement when they just need to talk.
I try to reach out to keep us meeting up in person, because time flies away so fast and it's hard when everybody is scared to reach out first. I try to give more than I take, because i know from experience and time that I won't be taken advantage of, and if I think they're about to do something dangerous or regrettable I try to let them know what I'm worried about without butting in and taking over.
I don't know. It's hard. I suppose you just have to keep growing with them
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