#but there is NO ONE here for me to lovingly cradle their face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catiuskaa · 5 months

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reggaeton & champagne.

PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan

SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.

REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3

CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.

WC: 2.3k

A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)

[🔹☆💠☆🔹]

The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.

It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.

Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.

And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.

You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.

The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.

Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.

One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.

Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.

“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.

You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.

Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.

“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.

Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.

They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.

“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.

“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.

With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.

“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.

The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.

“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”

His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.

Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.

“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”

You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.

“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”

And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.

You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.

Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.

“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.

“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.

“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”

You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.

But then, you felt a hand on your waist.

“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.

His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.

The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.

You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.

He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.

Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.

He smiled, and you held back a frown.

“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”

…

yikes.

That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.

The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.

The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.

“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.

You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.

Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.

If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.

He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.

“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.

Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.

The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.

Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.

Huh?

“All those for you?”

Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.

He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.

And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.

So he helped you by slapping them off your body.

As ‘gently’ as he could.

“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.

Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.

“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”

Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.

“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”

Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.

One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.

“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.

“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”

Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.

“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.

Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.

“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”

Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.

As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.

Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.

“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.

With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.

“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.

“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.

“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.

“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.

Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.

“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.

They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.

There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.

“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.

“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.

You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.

Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.

“What do you want to eat, kitten?”

You snickered.

“I want to have ramen.”

~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months

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Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers.

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair.

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.”

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.”

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.”

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?”

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek.

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand.

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.”

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion.

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip.

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth.

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.”

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago.

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.”

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair.

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised.

“Do your worst, Peña.”

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds.

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life.

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more.

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face.

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down.

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine.

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you.

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke.

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.”

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?”

“M-me.”

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart.

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him.

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice.

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).”

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face.

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him.

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.”

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you.

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.”

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.”

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

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bluejeanstrash · 2 months

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tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, pure comfort fluff, crying, mentions of prolonged spells of sadness, reader is going through a hard time and seungcheol provides comfort, that’s about it | wc: 603

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘seungcheoooool’ you whine, staggering your steps while walking up to your boyfriend. his arms immediately open wide, waiting to receive you with a big hug.

‘cheollie, i’m sad’

‘that’s it. who do i need to fight?’ he puts his most menacing face on, only to look extremely adorable in his efforts.

you giggle, ‘me. you need to fight me because it's my brain that’s making me sad without any reason'

‘listen if i need to fight you, i’ll fight you man’ he balls his fists up, giving you a playful little punch on your cheek, accompanying it with a silly ‘psch’ sound effect.

‘but no, tell me, what’s wrong, baby?’ he asks in pout ‘my precious little bae-bee’

‘i don’t know’ you sigh, sinking back into his arms ‘i just feel…sad?’ he rubs your back in soothing circles, swaying you gently from side to side.

‘mmhm, i know what you mean. how can i make it better, my love?’ you shake your head, rubbing it into his chest ‘i don’t think you can’

‘not you’ you clarify so as not to make him overthink which you’re sure he’s already started doing. you’re right.

‘as in nothing can. i’m just sad. have been for the last couple of weeks. i don’t know, i just feel so…tired’ he knows he’s not supposed to take your words personally, but it hurts him. not only does he feel awful that you waited this long to confide in him, he also feels like a massive failure for not noticing anything was wrong in the first place.

he hugs you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. he’s a little lost honestly, unable to understand how to fix this, or what even needs fixing. he’s always been able to do something to take the pain away, but for the first time he doesn’t have an answer and he hates it.

it’s not like you were hiding it from him all this time; you thought the feeling would go away like it usually did but it stayed for a week, and then like a bad guest it stayed for another one, plus one more, and after that it felt too heavy a burden to share.

‘it’s been going on for so long, and i don’t know w-what to do a-anymore’ your voice shakes, dangerously close to breaking. you think you’ve successfully swallowed that lump in your throat but then seungcheol strokes your hair so gently, so lovingly, so affectionately, you immediately burst into tears.

‘hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?’ he pulls back and grabs your face with both hands, his face falling when he sees yours ‘oh baby’ your tear-filled eyes, those big wet drops rolling down your soft cheeks, and your wobbly chin — they all make his heart hurt. he’s so worried but he doesn’t let it show, calmly wiping your tears away.

‘it’s okay, it’ll be okay, i’m right here, yeah? i’m right here’ his eyes are big and hopeful. you nod twice, inhaling in sudden sharp breaths.

‘come here’ he holds you as tight as he can without hurting you, cradling your head protectively in his hands ‘i’m so sorry i don’t know how to fix this but we’ll figure it out together, okay? it’ll be okay’

you nod, continuing to sob against his chest, and he lets you, telling you to let it all out, cry as much as you want for as long as you need.

that’s all he can think of to do, and if he needs to hold you forever to make it even a little better, he gladly will.

#scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #wasn’t planning on putting out anymore seungcheol stuff this week but i thought i’d just release it #since it’s so short #random little drabble #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups #choi seungcheol

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qawcamiz · 1 year

Text

Sweet !

characters ; Albedo, Scaramouche, Cyno, Heizou, & Xiao (seperate)

NSFW (mdni) : vulgar words, praise, fingering, teasing, pet names, riding, cursing, intimate sex, fem reader, degradation, dacryphilia, Impact play, orgasm control, etc.

notes ; this might be a bit messy cuz im writing this and im uh drunk i think

✦ ALBEDO

pet names, praise, fingering, intimate sex, exhibitionism

“Albedo…” you moaned, wrapping your legs more securely around his back. you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

“Shh, I’m here, angel,” Albedo mumbled against you, cradling your face in his hand. His palm is large and warm as you lean into it, placing an affectionate kiss on his fingers. He chuckles a little before kissing you again, sluggish, deep, and sweet.

"You're doing so fine." Albedo grins lovingly down at you before letting his head hang down, entranced at the sight of your dripping cunt sucking his aching cock back inside of you.

The idea of being seen bare by Albedo made your cheeks flush crimson. He runs his hands through your hair as he slowly begins to pounce inside you, your body writhing against his hard, wet shaft.

"Albedo... it's so..." you mewl softly at how divine he felt, how much love you sense in his every stroke, every thrust, and the soft moan that falls from your lips.

you reach up with one of your hands, holding onto Albedo for dear life, and drag him down to you, kissing him passionately. Your teeth gaze at his lower lip and his hand goes directly to your swollen pussy, cupping it tightly and stroking you there before dipping into your slit. You made a tiny noise of permission when he does so, his fingers slipping past you smoothly and tickling along your clit, which ships your whole body on blaze with arousal.

He continues making love to you for hours, totally in love with you and the way his name chimes falling past your kiss-swollen lips, your fingers intertwined up in his hair and the way he glimpses at you with compassion and longing.

✦ SCARAMOUCHE

teasing, degradation, dacryphilia, Impact play, orgasm control,

“Look at me, you whore,” he scowled, hanging his head down to stare at where you were both connected. His purple hair is messy as it falls in front of his face, and a deep groan slips past his lips as he sinks his cock into you once more.

You let out a breathy sob and try not to flinch, trying your best not to move from your spot on the bed. Your body feels hot with lust, and you think maybe if you don’t move anything will be easier to bear.

"mhm... More~" You breathed in,

"You like that?" As if to further punctuate his words, He presses his cock deep inside you, two of his fingers coming to circle against your clit. His hips grind against yours, the tip of his cock continuously nudging against the spot that has you moaning his name, the sensation making you dizzy enough to have you lose your ground.

"S-Scara..." You let out a shaky whiff as he proceeds to fuck you, Your eyes drop shut. A whimper escapes your lips before your breathing evens out. You felt him slap your thigh,

"Don't cum until I said so." The way his mouth curves up at one corner makes you shiver. It looks like his smirk is almost a grin by now, his eyes shining. You can see the red eyeliner from under his lashes, smeared thickly around his closed lids.

You tug onto him closer, pressing his bare chest up against your own. "Please," You murmured, voice low and weakened, "Sorry, I... need you right now..." You beg, feeling pathetic as you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck so he'll have no choice but to hold onto you.

Scaramouche groans and presses his cold nose against your cheek. The gesture sends shivers down your spine, a smile tugging at your lips, and tears springing from your eyes as you feel his warm breath against your skin, and your heart begins beating faster and faster.

✦ CYNO

praise, cursing, slight degradation, teasing, intimate sex,

“C-Cyno! Shit— hmph~“ You sighed into his mouth, gripping the sheets as he pressed his cock constantly into your pussy. You could feel yourself starting to come with every of his depth thrust, which only inflated your already magnified arousal. oh, Archons, this was so good and you hated it when things went that smoothly.

"Who knew you'd be like this in bed?" He slowed down for an instant before coming back in even deeper than before. Your eyes were clutched shut, your head was thrown back, and your legs were still spread barely apart for him. He pushed forward until the tip of his cock was pressed against your clit, then began fucking you like there was no tomorrow. With each movement of his hips, the head of his cock made contact with both your G area and ass, making you squirm involuntarily and cry out louder.

You could hear yourself moaning through your clenched teeth, your breath heavy and unsteady as he went on pumping his cock in slow motion against you, never pulling his hips away from your wet pussy lips. You didn’t want him ever to stop.

You couldn’t ponder or draw breath with all the sensations rushing through you as he pumped his cock, slowly but surely becoming more intense by the second. Your pussy was tightening around his thick shaft, the muscles clenching tightly as he kept going without stopping.

A tiny whimper escaped your throat, and you were rather convinced you sounded like a creature in pain. The sensation was amazing—it felt like blaze and frost, and if you weren't on your mattress right now, you would have been screaming for another round.

✦ HEIZOU

praise, quirofilia, teasing, fingering

He had such long fingers, you could sense him scraping up and down your walls and the pads on his knuckles left a trail of burning pleasure behind wherever he brushed. The feeling was enough to make your toes curl and your abdomen flutter in the tension of what was to come next.

You bucked your hips to his fingers as he continued with the gentle torture, your back arching off the bed as it pushed against the mattress until it felt like your skin would rip right open.

He chuckled when you let out an embarrassing noise of ecstasy. “Oh? You're ashamed?" He sounded smug like he knew that was what he did to you. He knew exactly how to turn you on, just like that. He leaned over you and pressed his lips to your temple. “I didn't think you'd get so turned on by my fingers."

Your breath caught in your throat as he continued teasing you by caressing his thumb over your clit. Your nails dug into the sheets beneath you. "Nngh..." You bit your bottom lip as you tried to suppress your sobs but they kept coming nonetheless.

When he reached down and stroked one of his midst, heavy cock circles against your clit and rubbed against your sensitive pussy, you moaned louder than before and arched your head back. A small whine slipped past your teeth at the feeling of the hard length of him prodding your entrance. He began fondling the underside of your slit with his thumb and you whimpered as the warmth built up inside you.

✦ XIAO

dominance, praise, riding, intimate sex,

"You're so..." he whispered as you began to move, going up and down on his erect dick "y/n... Just like that..." he breathed into your ear making you whimper softly as he kissed a trail down your body. He bit your neck, not hard enough to hurt you but deep enough that his teeth would have been visible. You whimpered at the pain,

You start to move your hips in circles to help him feel even better and it worked like a charm. You felt his dick twitching as he clasps your waist to move you himself.

He starts pushing inside of you, quicker than before and it feels wonderful. It's almost too great for your body to deal with. It's like there's a hidden emphasis pulling him deeper inside of you. He pushes harder still and with one last thrust.

"y-y/n...!" He grunted as his grip tighten on your waist. His thrusts came to be deeper and faster. you kept bouncing on his erection attempting to get every feeling out of him.

He was whining and shivering, it was a tremendous sight, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, holding you close, and you held his hair gently trying to soothe him down.

"Xiao..." You whispered into his hair while stroking his back soothingly. You felt his dick twitching against your stomach as he started losing control.

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inuyashaluver · 7 months

Note

hey, love your writing!! what do you think about a concert fic where the trade rand leah go to a concert with her mum, grandma and maybe some arsenal girls - heaps of fluff which makes hem get feasted by everyone but super sweet stuff like whispering lyrics to each other and dancing :)

lovin’ on you - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which your fiancé, your teammates and her family all go to a luke combs concert on your birthday

warnings: suggestive, swearing

a/n: thank you for the support and the request!! this was super fun, hope you enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

it was no secret that you and your fiancé, leah were big country fans. sure, country music may be slandered but you and leah never lost your love for it. it also helped that some of your arsenal teammates were also big fans, especially sharing your love of luke combs with you and your fiancé.

your birthday was slowly approaching, leah kept telling you that this birthday was going to be extra special and you really weren’t excited. you hate your birthday, leah loves it - match made in heaven. and so, on the day of your birthday, you were awakened by leah.

“baby girl, wake up” she whispers softly in your ear, rubbing circles onto your back. you were bundled up in yours and leah’s bed, leah had gotten up extra early to go to your favourite café to get your favourite drink and some breakfast. you groan and smush your face into the pillow, leah giggles at your antics.

leah then settles her top half onto your back, a familiar and comfortable weight offering you extra warmth in the chilly morning. she moves to place a line of kisses from the top of your neck, the middle of your back and all the way to your lower back. you stir lightly at the affection she was giving you. she places her hands on your waist to flip you around, when you’re on your back, you squint your eyes open to leah smiling so lovingly at you, you could’ve cried.

“happy birthday, my love” she places a gentle kiss on your lips, laughing when you whine as she pulls away.

you sit up quickly, placing your arms around her neck, sitting in her lap and giving her a tight hug. one of her hands resting on the small of your back and the other rubbing up and down the side of your thigh. she nearly dies of cuteness when you nuzzle your face into her neck, shielding your eyes from the light of the morning.

“thank you” you mumble into her neck, placing a gentle kiss there. she moves her head to make eye contact with you. “my birthday girl, you’re getting old” laughing as you glare at her.

“i’m old? baby, you’re pushing grandma already” sleep still evident in your voice,

“rude! because it’s your birthday, i’ll let it pass, and excuse you! we’re two years apart!” still giggling profusely at your tired expression, you weren’t really a morning person, leah was and absolutely loved how you acted in the mornings, extra clingy and easily persuaded into anything.

“hmm still two years” you smirk and peck her on the lips gently, leah hums at the contact of your lips. “here, baby, eat your breakfast” she nudges her head towards your bedside table, her makeshift breakfast in bed sitting there prettily with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in a vase beside it. you turn your head and look over, eyes immediately filling with tears. leah’s eyes widen when you look back at her with glossy eyes, she coos and places both her hands on your cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over them, cradling you.

“marry me, leah” she smiles brightly at you,

“baby, i already beat you to that, sorry, my love” referencing when she proposed to you last year. you shake your head lightly at her, placing your hand over hers on your face. “i don’t care, marry me” smiling softly, “anytime, baby” you smile at her, eyes still glossy with tears.

the rest of the morning was slow, you both enjoying each other’s company, both of you had a day off training fortunately, as it was a saturday. leah spent the morning showering you with affection, gifts and the love that you deserved. you were so spoilt, just the way leah liked it.

you were both now sat in your shared living room, you lying on top of her and she traces shapes on your back. she’s watching your shared favourite movies as you reply to the lovely birthday messages and calls you had received. suddenly, she gasps, your body jolting as she sits up, making you roll into the tiny free space of the couch.

“baby! i almost forgot your main gift, oh my god i’m awful.” you look at her with wide eyes,

“leah, baby, i really don’t want anything, you’ve done so much for me already” you pout up at her and she shakes her head. grabbing your hands and pulling you to sit in her lap again.

“no, i’ll do everything for you, but anyway, are you ready to hear your gift?” you knew there was no point, leah being extremely stubborn when it comes to you and in general. you sigh and nod your head.

“well, my birthday girl, me and you, accompanied by mum, grandma and some of the girls will be going to a concert today” your eyes slightly widened again,

“woah, really! what concert?”

“my love, luke combs! i got us tickets!” she exclaims, giggling as you cover your mouth with your hands, eyes filling up with tears again. luke combs was so special to yours and leah’s relationship. she pouts and coos at you again, wiping your tears.

“oh, baby”

“leah, marry me” she smiles at you again, “duh, that’s why i proposed first loser” she jokes and you let out a wet laugh, nodding your head at her.

“also” she starts, placing her hands on your hips, hinting for you to stand up, she grabs your hand and pulls you in the direction of the bedroom, “woah williamson! take me out to dinner first” she exhaled through her nose, shaking her head and making you stand in front of your shared closet, telling you to close your eyes.

“okay….open!” you open your eyes to her holding two outfits up, complementary colours slightly matching. “i got us outfits for the special occasion”. she grins shyly at you, you walk closer to her, gently grabbing the outfits on the coat hangers, gently draping them on the bed, she looks at you confused. you pull her into another bone crushing hug, you love her so much, you felt sick. she hoists you up on her waist, holding the bottom of your thighs and giving them a light squeeze, taking you back to the couch and showing each other the love you have for one another until it was time to meet up with the rest of the group for the concert

—

you and leah got extremely distracted while you were getting ready, leah thought you looked so good in your outfit and cowboy hat, she almost made you stay home. you felt exactly the same, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. running a little late for the organised meeting time.

by the time you and leah got to the venue, her family and your teammates were already there. when they saw you, they all bounded over to give you a hug, wishing you a happy birthday. you were engaging in small talk with leah’s mum and grandmother, talking about random topics.

leah was talking with your teammates, watching you interact with her family, which are also yours. a big, cheesy grin was plastered on her face when you smile and wave at her while talking to her family.

you guys had gotten inside, you and leah sitting next to each other, everyone sitting next to you. leah kept taking photos of you, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face and neither could leah. both of you were so excited, everyone found it incredibly endearing.

the concert started, the first song ‘lovin’ on you’ begins to play and leah wraps her arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to her side. you drape your arm around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder.

‘but I'm in love and lovin' on you

I feel that rush soon as you walk in a room

I can't get enough of you, honey

you're right on the money

I'm a junkie for your midnight moves

I'm in love and lovin' on you’

you and leah sway side to side, looking into each other’s eyes and mouthing the lyrics to each other. you both smile softly at one another, lightly dancing and focusing your attention on each other. everyone else in the room disappears as the two of you dance and sing. leah places a kiss on your lips and you happily return it, holding onto the hand draped on your shoulder and kissing her back with so much love. it was such a special moment for both of you and you were so grateful for each other.

you both continue to dance and sing with each other, the other girls and her family. suddenly, the song ‘the way we make love’ begins to play, leah immediately taking her arm off your shoulder and making you stand in front of her. she wraps her arms around your waist, resting her head in the crook of your neck and placing some gentle kisses there. this song was highly suggestive, leah loved it, frequently quoting it to you when you were in a bad mood to make you giggle.

‘let's get some candles burnin'

and some records turnin'

all the lights down low

take it nice and slow

the way your body's movin'

keep doin' what you're doin'

to me all night long’

she whispers the lyrics into your ear, you slightly squirm in her arms, you feel her breathe on the shell of your ear, feeling her lips occasionally graze it. you cheeks flush pink and you melt into her embrace as she pulls you impossibly closer to her chest. she giggles seeing you so shy. you move your head slightly, gesturing for her to bring her ear to your mouth,

“your mother and grandmother are right there, williamson, you’re so cheeky” she smiles at you, moving to your ear over the loud music,

“only for you, beautiful” you shake your head at her, turning your body completely to be facing her this time. you smile up at her, placing your hand on the back of her neck and pulling her down to you.

‘well, there ain't no way, baby

to get me out this house

when you look this good

what could I even think about? oh

besides turnin' round and lockin' the door’

this time, you whisper the lyrics in her ear and she flushes red, moving her hands on your hips and giving you a light squeeze. she shakes her head at you, understanding why you got so shy every time she said the lyrics to you. you give her a sweet kiss on her warm cheek, turning back around, continuing to dance and sing with leah and everyone else until the concert was over.

once it was finished, everyone was happily fangirling and talking about how great the concert was. you and leah hanging at the back, her arm around your shoulder and yours around her waist again, while you lightly chattered, she would place occasional kisses on your temple and you would return them on her cheeks.

“thank you for everything, leah, i love you” you look up at her, looking right into her eyes with so much love. she looked at you softly, smiling at you,

“i love you more, my girl, you deserve the world” you could have crumbled on the floor right there, your knees feeling week. she grips onto you tighter, “now let’s go home and let me love on you” she laughs as you jab your finger into her side.

you couldn’t wait for her birthday, excited to show her how much you love her.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by alessiarusso99 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: well, you know what they say: save a horse😉🤠 happy birthday to my girl, love you more than life itself xx @/yourname

view all comments

yourname: ride a cow(girl) boy 😉

yourname: i love you so much, baby, you mean everything to me

↳ leahwilliamsonn: love you more

↳ yourname: don’t start an argument you won’t win

↳ leahwilliamsonn: watch it, missy

alessiarusso99: uh what does this mean

↳ leahwilliamsonn: when a mummy cowgirl and another mummy cow girl love each other very much

↳ alessiarusso99: OH MY GOD NO

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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vetteltea · 6 months

Text

Love Will Always Show | CL16 & CS55

Summary: The choice of a lifetime is yours to make, your husband and lover both longing for your heart. They face conflict, choices and most importantly, one another.

Word Count: 8.4K [& a bit more]

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating and dishonesty, manipulation, hospital talk.

Note: The fact I was a newbie to F1Blr when this started and now...here we are. I want to thank each and EVERY person who has ever read this series. It's changed everything for me, it is truly my love letter to you all and I hope you enjoy the finale. You are all forever in my heart and I cannot thank you all enough.

PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: ‘You Think, You Know’ | PART 4: 'Love Will Always Show'

Love is a gentle hand cradling your back.

Time had suspended when your body had collapsed onto the rough floor outside of the Scuderia Ferrari hospitality. Immediately, several scarlet-clad personnel were running over, shouts echoing across the open space, somebody mumbling that they needed to get you somewhere safe and warm before your body temperature dropped dangerously.

There’s a question of who to call; your father wasn’t in the country, ever since your mother’s funeral, he’s become silent, your siblings having been lovingly sent to stay with a close aunt. He had been absent from the previous Ferrari meeting, his assistant having sent a message to say he would be absent for a little longer. Clearly, the death of your mother was taking a toll.

The next obvious choice of course, was your husband. However, with the win that he had been craving for oh-so-long, he was currently wrapped up in press, endless ‘congratulations’ messages from celebrities and presenters alike. Nobody would know where to find the monegasqué right now, let alone how to tell him of his wife’s status whilst surrounded by endless television cameras and sly reporters.

There’s no need for him, anyway. Leaving the media pen after vigorous questioning of his loyalty to the team and his current emotions on a premature end to the race, Carlos’ dark eyes quirk to the side, registering the crowd of bodies circling the hospitality area. They only widen when the realization dawns on his clouded mind that it’s you, your body is the one thing they are all crowding around.

His steps break into a run, no signal being given to his media manager nor his cousin. He speaks a few sharp, spanish words, creating a break in the circle, able to insert his toned body into the sea of red, immediately squatting, one hand coming out to elevate the back of your head. He knows how particular you could be with your hair, how you insisted on now sleeping on silk pillowcases to keep it healthy. Asphalt ground was not comfortable nor hygienic.

There’s talk; talk about whether to take you to the hospital, whether to wait for your husband to return and make the decision. Carlos feels his blood curdle at the use of marital status. His teammate, the man who had treated you no better than the way he had treated bonds of trust, was the one to make a choice of your health and wellbeing.

He simply cannot stand for that.

“We need to take her to the hospital.” He interrupts the commotion, the strong tone settling over the panicked employees. “Surely that is the best place for her if she is unconscious, no?” The whispers and mumbles which echo the surrounding members of the team signify agreement.

There’s a discussion of how to bring you in without drawing attention to the media. Surely, if a giant ambulance or even a medical car was to storm through the paddock, no doubt endless media outlets would be creating headlines before even bothering to speak to anybody present. The Spaniard is already making his own choice, using his arms to gently adjust your body.

He shouldn’t; he really shouldn’t be moving you, not when you haven’t been checked for broken bones or concussion. Yet, the idea of the most beautiful girl, Mariposa, lying on a hard floor with no form of comfort or safety sickens him to his stomach. Carlos is still gentle with the movements, letting your head lean into his stomach, one hand is supporting your back, tanned fingers digging gentle patterns into the curve of your skin. The other one traces once, twice, three times around your cheekbone, dark eyes transfixed on your features.

You must have hit your skin when falling to the ground; there’s a graze dancing across your cheekbone, specks of dirt resting in between each knock. The man cradling you is gentle, moving his shirt just enough up his body that he’s able to take the hemmed end, feather it across your cheek in an attempt to remove the offending chunks.

Someone nudges Carlos’s shoulder, more in an attempt to tell him somebody was just outside the Paddock; that they could drive you to the hospital right now. He…he can’t bring himself to leave you. A strong grasp lifts you from the ground, holding you close to his chest, murmuring that he would get you there, and he supposed somebody would have to find Charles.

The area grows quiet; Carlos’ pace draws away from the Paddock and to the back entry. He was thankful that the entirety of the drivers were still either trapped in the media or with their own teams, celebrating or commiserating. He had enough of that for one day; an entire six laps was barely worth speaking about.

You’re still unconscious, still limp in his arms. However, there’s a rise and fall of your chest, you’re still breathing. That’s all he could ask for at this present time. He silently promises himself there and then that when you wake up, he’s making his final move. Where Charles has been playing chequers, he is playing chess; he had proven that even whilst you were stuck with your estranged husband, he would love you regardless.

There’s a people carrier in the car park, he’s certain he’s seen various drivers use it before; a built-in stretcher lies in the back, it’s ideally a discreet ambulance. The media could be brutal with gossiping when any driver had to leave the track. It would look worse if Charles Leclerc’s wife was seen leaving the paddock with his teammate. The driver of the vehicle nods when seeing the two get closer, stepping to sit in the driver’s seat whilst Carlos adjusted his grasp.

He lays you down onto the stretcher; it’s secured, you’ll be safe for the drive. The man can’t help but feel a draw of protectiveness over you. What on earth had caused it to collapse? Had he done something? Blood boiled, if your husband had done anything to cause this, he could personally guarantee that Charles would not be finishing any races for the remainder of the season. He would make sure of that.

His attention is caught by the glimmer of silver on your left hand; your wedding band. When he reaches the car, tucks you into the seat carefully and makes sure the seatbelt is secure around your frame, his fingers glide over your hand, removing the band and putting it in his own pocket.

‘It’s for your own good,’ he tells himself. ‘If your fingers swell up, they may need to cut it off.’ He could tell himself this story a thousand times; it doesn't hide the fact that his true intention in this moment is simple; for once, he could be the devoted husband, taking his wife to be nursed back to health.

The Spainard leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, murmuring that you were going to be okay, that he would stay with you the entire time. The driver shouts, telling him to take a seat so they could get there before the press figured out something was wrong. He kisses your skin once more, before closing the doors, sprinting to the backseat, throwing his body in carelessly.

Angst overtakes his senses, shouting at the driver to start the car, he doesn't care about being strapped in. This way, he’s able to lean over the backseat, one hand reaching out to clasp at your own. You need to know that somebody is there, that he is there for you. He’s always been there for you. The car pivots out of the parking space, beeling for the main road and to the hospital.

Love is a scream for your name.

“Charles, tu dois ralenir!” Joris is insisting he needs to slow down the car; turning the current Leclerc in hospital into a duo would not be a satisfying outcome.

Ever since he’s been told, all your husband can see is red mist. One Ferrari employee had sprinted up to him whilst he was in the midst of cameras, the grin on his face as he’s finally able to seek his wife out, wanting nothing more than to skip on the Scuderia celebrations and take you instead, your beaming smile radiating the energy he had been bathed in.

It’s funny how life can change in the matter of a few moments; one second, he’s on top of the world, the next, Charles is pushing through every media outlet, fan and celebrity, barging himself into his driver’s room. He doesn't have time to remove his fireproofs, to pick up any of his belongings apart from his car keys. He isn’t communicating, french profanities fall from his lips, shaking his head in rage that nobody could find him to tell him. Tell him that his wife had been taken to hospital.

Joris had been the one to sprint after him; he knew better than most, when Charles saw nothing but mist, there was no getting to him, not whilst he was determined to do something. The driver knew in his heart his best friend was not to blame; after all, he had no idea of your disappearance, he had been with Charles almost the entire time. And yet…he can’t bring himself to even speak to Joris. Not until the duo make it to his rented car, Charles is adamant he is driving.

He only starts speaking when his best friend tells him to slow down. The driver barely does, only drawing to a slower pace when he sees the traffic lights start to build in front of him. Even in a panic, he respects road rulings. Drawing to a stop, the man finally has a second to take a shaky, unbalanced breath, angry tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes.

“Why did nobody tell me my wife was at the hospital?” His voice is strained, he’s clearly holding back tears, whether they’re angry or fearful is a different question. “She’s my- she’s my wife!” He can’t stop repeating it, as if it’s a prayer. His wife. His wife.

“She’ll be okay.” Joris knows that’s quite possibly the worst thing he could say to his best friend, but it’s the only thing he can bring himself to say. “She will be. C’est juste par précaution.”

“Putain!” Charles’ words are sharp, immediately pressing on the acceleration as the light switches to green, overtaking three cars in a matter of moments. He’s a man of regret, he has been ever since he realized how much he adores you. In that moment, he can’t help but think of everything he could have done differently that afternoon. He could have come and found you right after the podium, could have given you his jacket and told you to stay in his driver’s room, he would come and get you after. He could- he could of-

He could of waited with you after the funeral. He could have come and picked you up from Milan when you went to spend time with Carlos. He could have deleted his mistress’ number, and told her he was married.

“Tourner à gauche.” Joris tells his best friend to turn left, the Hospital Car Park coming into view. Charles turns the car, immediately eyes are roaming for any space, anywhere he could put the car. A sharp whistle and point from his best friend shows him a space right by the Emergency Department, parking the vehicle in possibly the worst way he ever has done. Within three seconds, the engine is switched off, seatbelts are unbuckled, and he’s shouting to Joris to pay for the parking, he needs to get inside.

For a driver, his sense of direction is becoming worse. It takes him a solid minute to read a sign, before his legs break into a sprint, skidding into a bustling Emergency Room. There’s old men, leant over in pain, convinced they’re dying. A child snuffling, masses of paper towels on her head. A woman with a twisted ankle, her attention engrossed by the magazine in her grasp. It smells of hand sanitiser and bleach, the yellow walls are hurting his eyes.

A woman behind the desk taps the counter, drawing his attention. “Hey- Sir!” She snaps. You can’t blame her; it’s hour thirteen of her fifteen hour shift. “You can’t be in here unless you’re hurt-”

He shouts your name. It’s as if he completely forgets he’s in a building. Charles is embedded in a maze, even if a lady in front of him can pull up your immediate location, he needs to find you himself, and he needs to find you now.

It isn’t until Joris comes in, having heard his best friend scream your name, that he overtakes Charles so overcome that he’s now hiding his head in his hands, unable to say anything that wasn’t your name. His ears prick up when the second man starts speaking, giving the woman your first name, your last name- Leclerc- and when you had been bought in. There’s a light tapping of the keyboard, she tells Joris you are in the department round the corner, room ten-

Charles is gone before she can finish her sentence, catapulting down the hallway, dodging round endless people, frantically searching for doors with numbers, not names. He sees the number four. Six. Eight.

Number Ten rolls into view. Without a single word, his hand latches around the door handle, pushing so violently the door smacks onto the inside wall. His eyes immediately fly to the bed, you’re lying there, so unconscious, still so beautiful, some strips over the graze on your cheek. Still, arms to either side, one hand connected to an IV, clearly in an attempt to rehydrate you. His first question is the location of your wedding ring, where on earth was it? Has it been taken away? It’s a question he completely forgets about when his gaze travels further.

The other hand is being held by a Spanish man he knows all too much about.

Love is notes left on a coffee cup.

Both men stood, silently hovering over your body whilst the nurse came in to run a course of tests, check your blood pressure, the IV line, make sure you were being cared for in the best capacity. Each held a coffee cup, Charles’ still primarily full, he couldn’t stomach anything; he felt sick from seeing you lie here, not laughing, smiling, speaking. Carlos had downed the drink bought in by Joris in a matter of moments; to him, it was fuel. Something to keep him awake until you woke up.

Whilst Charles was the one to ask questions; ‘Do you know what caused this? Is she going to have any long-term issues? Does she need any assistance when she wakes up?’ Carlos has captured the marker which has rested alongside the clipboard of your notes, his tongue poked out in concentration. The marker grazes along the cup, leaving a note, drawing a tiny picture of a butterfly- Mariposa- and placing the cup on your table, a silent message for if you woke up and god forbid- he wasn’t there.

The nurse draws away from your body, diverting her next task to the two men.

“I need to continue the examination but…” She looks to the door. “I cannot have you both in here. You need to wait outside, the Doctor will come in for further tests-”

“Can one of us wait here?” Carlos is the first to interrupt, the look on the woman’s face tells him he’s made a mistake.

“Both.” She clarifies, pointing at himself, then at his teammate. “One and two. You need to wait outside. If she wakes up or there’s any…issues, we will let you know.”

It turns out, both men are hesitant to leave you; Charles moves first, crouching by your side, running a gentle hand over your hairline, pressing his lips carefully to your temple. He’s murmuring, french words of adoration and comfort, that he will be right there when you need him.

When one steps away, the other comes forward. Carlos doesn't say anything, instead tracing a gentle finger across your cheek. His touch tells you everything, it speaks volumes. He loves you, he’ll be outside, don’t be afraid to come running into his arms like you had done once before. The nurse begins to lose her patience, ushering both men out into the corridor, telling them to sit in the plastic chairs provided or go somewhere else; she really didn’t care.

The scene is reminiscent of two boys sitting outside of the principal’s office; Charles’ head hides in his hands, leaning forward, still dressed in his fireproofs. He’s tied the sleeves around his waist, the dark undershirt now drenched in sweat from the driving, both on track and to the hospital.

He feels movement next to him, Carlos’ hand dips into his pocket, pulling out something small, silvery. Her wedding ring. He supposes Carlos means it as a sign of goodwill, that he kept it safe. In the Monégasques mind, it’s the fuel to light the fire. Scoffing, he snatches the jewelry off of his teammate, placing the band onto his pinky finger, it’s the only one it would fit on, the only way he could keep it safe.

“Funny. You took it off her.” He’s growing mad, aggravated that Carlos wouldn’t just go away and leave him and his wife alone. Hadn’t he done enough already? “Why don’t you go back to Natasha?” The blonde ex-media woman for their team is referenced. Carlos opens his mouth, ready to snap back, it was a low blow for Charles to reference his history with the woman.

“I know what you did.” He huffs. There’s something…different. Different in the way he speaks to Carlos now compared to every other day. The polite, civil conversation is gone, the fact he couldn’t pass judgment because of his own actions has evaporated. “I know you invited her to Madrid just to make a move.” He remembers seeing the instagram stories, how your eyes were wide, full of life. He made you remember life is beautiful. “You kept her close. You wanted her and didn’t like that she was mine.”

“Yours?” He scoffs. “She’s not your property, Charles.”

“No. But she’s my wife. I’m the one she lies next to every night, I’m the one who will care for her in sickness and health, who’s shoulder was leant on through every bad time.” He pauses. “Who picked her up after you coaxed her into your bed.” He laughs. Actually, laughs. The memory replayed in his head, how sleepy you looked as he guided you back into the SUV, how your heart sank when seeing the blonde approach his front door. In that moment, you had convinced yourself you meant nothing to Carlos apart from lust.

Charles was a jealous man; he had taken pride in stripping off his teammates' clothing, wrapping you in his own, soft hoodie. You were his. Carlos wouldn’t care for you the way he did, he was a man too full of lust. He was convinced the Spainard didn’t make you laugh, didn’t make you smile, didn’t make you come-

“You corrupted her, Carlos.” He finishes. “I know what you did-”

“-And I know what you did.” Carlos snarls. He doesn't care about anything more; he knows all too well that his teammate could go crying to the Ferrari bosses, have him removed from the team in a blink of an eye, throwing some false information out which he would have to comply with. But he doesn't care. His affection has grown too strong for that.

“I know everything, Charles.” He’s monotone, he’s stating facts. “I know how she waited at home for you on her birthday, whilst you were in your mistress’ bed.” Carlos remembers asking you about your plans the previous week, how you had brushed them off. “I know how she made you dinner every night, how you refused to eat it.” Charles feels his stomach drop, the endless leftovers stacked neatly in the fridge, the meals he had never bothered to try. “I know on your wedding night, you came into the hotel room drunk, covered in bites and she slept on the sofa-”

“Enough!” Charles’ voice shouts, standing up from the plastic chair in the corridor. He doesn't have to hear this, he can’t bear to hear this. One mistake a day was something he was always able to brush off. Hearing each and every one of his infidelities laid out in front of him sent his mind into overdrive. “You have no right to comment on-”

“On what?” The Spainard is standing up now, chest out and arms folded. “On your marriage?” He laughs, he smirks. “Can you call it that? A marriage is a bond between two people who love one another-”

“I love her!” Charles cuts him off, stepping closer. “I love her.” He repeats himself. Carlos looks gobsmacked, shaking his head in denial.

“You have a really weird way of showing her you love her.” He continues to poke, to prod. “Sharing a bed with another woman is not how you show love-”

“I admitted to my mistakes!” He’s quick to defend himself, how the restraining order was placed and a lawsuit filed, how he promised if you wanted to know anything, see anything, he would let you. How he would spend the rest of his days always feeling dread and regret. “I fixed them-”

“Who says she still loves you?” Carlos has snapped.

Charles hates to admit that he may be right. Is it really fair for him to expect your love after everything that has happened in the past year? It didn’t matter how many times he begged, he pleaded or promised. The man you had married had spent the better part of 365 days in the arms of another woman, a woman that as he stood here, clinging onto any hope of his marriage, meant absolutely nothing to him.

His slim fingers trail down, circling the cool band which rested on his left finger. He had decided there and then, he would keep it on, always. There would be no more reasoning, none. If Lewis could wear his earrings, Charles would wear his wedding ring. He looks back up, Carlos still boring into him with dark eyes, the anger he radiated almost entirely visible.

“Do you love her?” He presses. He needs to know; he doesn't bring himself to care that you had spent a night in his arms, not when he had done it to you a thousand times over. The idea makes him sick, but nothing compared to the idea that you are in love with somebody that isn’t him, not when he needs nothing but for you to come home, back to your home with him.

Charles swears he feels vomit rise into his mouth when Carlos nods. He’s not stupid, not really. He knows how he fell for you properly in the past few weeks, how for Carlos who has been in awe of your affection and attention, the center of every race weekend you had reluctantly attended. It may have been to support him, but you could still enjoy the fact that Carlos would be there, too.

Your husband isn’t sure what he wants to do anymore. If there wasn’t an examination happening, he would have run into your private room and locked the door. Instead, his glassy eyes gaze up, catching Carlos’ dark ones. It hits him at once; his teammate, somebody who he once considered a close- no, best friend, was the one who had taken his wife away from him. His brain can’t catch up with his body movements, the red mist clouds over once more.

Charles Leclerc punches Carlos Sainz in the nose.

He doesn't intend for it to be a strong punch; Formula One drivers are a lot stronger than they realize, and the contact not only causes the Spaniard to knock back, shouting out in pain, but a sharp sensation rockets through Charles’ clenched fist, wiggling his fingers as they relax. Carlos’ nose is immediately red, becoming scarlet by the moment, though no blood has fallen. Your husband’s immediate reaction is ‘Should have punched him harder.’

He doesn't have time to think about anything else, not before he has two strong hands on his chest, shoving him harshly. The sudden sensation causes him to lose balance, falling to the floor and landing on his back. A shock radiates through his body, Carlos looming over him, clearly ready for a second punch.

That thought is drawn away when the door to your room opens, both men immediately staring at the nurse, her hair worn and eyes tired. Before either man can throw a question at her, she speaks.

“She’s still not awake, we’re going to bring her around in an hour, but she’s going to have to stay overnight for observation. If one of you could get her some overnight things-”

“I can.” Charles immediately cuts off the nurse, pulling himself to sit up and stand from the floor. “I’m her husband. I will get them.” It’s a subtle jab to the man in front of him, Carlos still holding his nose, convinced it was about to start bleeding any moment. He would have gone and sought out attention for himself, if he hadn’t felt a sharp vibration in his back pocket, a phone call. In any other time, he would have ignored it. But he knows who it is, he knows how important it is.

Without a word, Carlos answers the call, rapidly speaking in Spanish as he walks down the hall.

Love is a pocket square at the bottom of a suitcase.

The contrast of Charles leaving the hospital was night and day to him arriving. He hadn’t spoken a word to Joris, apart from expressing that he needed to go back to the hotel to get your overnight items. Although it was barely a ten minute drive away, every minute felt like a century; he wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel, sit by your side and hold your hand until you woke up.

He could have sent Joris back, given him the room key and told him to grab some things, but it didn’t seem right. The idea of his best friend going through your suitcase didn’t sit comfortably with him. Moreover, he didn’t know. Charles knew; he knew what pajamas you found the most comfortable, what outfit would be easiest for you to travel back in, how you wanted your panties and socks paired together and how your phone charger had to loop clockwise.

The ornate hotel room looks dull without you; your suitcase still rests in the bottom of the wardrobe; you had hung up evening wear, dresses for the inevitable after-parties. Folded in your suitcase remained your other clothing. Charles is quick to select his items; the tropical cotton pajamas. You had bought him a pair in the same fabric, telling him that they would be the comfiest thing to sleep in. Your stitched jumper and comfiest jeans. You had worn those jeans when you had tagged along to his photoshoot for the Ferrari livery, holding his water and the APM Monaco jewelry he couldn’t wear. Your outrageously expensive hairbrush. You had brushed his hair through after a particularly bad race, whispering promises that it would get better, that the car was going to evolve for him, the best driver on the grid.

Bile rises to Charles’ stomach and with no warning, he sprints to the bathroom, dropping to his knees by the toilet and throwing up the barely-there contents of his stomach. He had barely eaten, barely drank any water, but couldn’t help the sickness in his tummy.

He pulls away from the toilet basin, eyes watery, breath trying to catch up with the speed and cries.

Charles doesn't realize it’s happening at first, he hasn’t cried like this in so long; the kind of crying where you can’t fathom words, you don’t make a sound because you’re crying so deeply. The kind where your chest is exploding and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. The kind where all he wants is for his mother to cradle him like she did when he was five, run her hands through his hair and whisper him words of comfort.

This time, he doesn't want his mother, he wants you.

It’s selfish, it’s so incredibly selfish and it hurts to know that it’s taken him until now to realize what you mean to him. It would never happen, but his wound-up head can only close his eyes and visualize you running in, pulling his head into your chest and running your hands through his dark tufts, pressing cool lips to his forehead and promising him over and over that it was going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

He lets himself cry for five minutes; he times it because he wants to collect your things and make his way back, Joris was waiting in the car. When the five minutes are over, he pinches his nose, taking short, ugly gasps until his eyes remain bloodshot but not blurred. The sound of the toilet flushing echoes through the hotel room, making his way out of the bathroom and to the items he had hurriedly dropped atop of your suitcase.

Nimble fingers cradle each item, carefully rolling and tucking them into a pillowcase; he didn’t have a bag big enough to suffice each item and couldn’t bring himself to bring your entire suitcase along, it almost seemed as if once you had it, you could disappear from his life. At least this way, he could have one final farewell if you chose to leave. The items are almost secure, until his grip on the pillowcase folds, glassed eyes catching a glimmer of blue hidden at the bottom of the case. With no hesitation, he pulls on the fabric. His heart drops on the realization of the item.

It’s a pocket square. More specifically, it’s his pocket square from your wedding.

You don’t know when you had started packing it, but you supposed it was from your mother’s own doings. After her wedding to your father, she had always carried around her ‘something blue,’ as a gesture of good luck, of safety. After the first time you had found out about Charles’ mistress, you had discreetly tucked the fabric into your bag, carrying it around, a silent hope your husband would return to you.

It hadn’t worked in Jeddah. In Imola. In Spa. In Monaco. You had reluctantly taken it from your bag one evening, on the plane home from consoling your family, using your pen to doodle in the very corner ‘Mr and Mrs Leclerc,’ a silent fantasy of the loving marriage you had dreamed of.

That night was the first time you and Charles ever shared a bed.

The fabric lingers between his fingers, the blue contrasting against the silver of your ring, still resting on his pinky finger. Now changed into his own clothes, he slides the ring off, wrapping it gently in the pocket square and sliding it into his trouser pocket. As he does, he recognises your handwriting, the titles printed in the bottom of the fabric.

He can’t help the tears rolling down his cheeks once again.

Love is a desperate telephone call.

Carlos is still pacing around the outside courtyard of the hospital, having been on hold for a grand total of seventeen minutes. He is not a man of patience, he is not a man of quiet.

The phone buzzing in the corridor had been a welcome call, despite the situation. His lawyer, finally ringing him back after what felt like days of apprehension. He had dipped from the public eye to try and grab hold of some privacy, slipping in his wireless headphone so as not to hold the device to his ear for hours upon hours.

Almost thirty minutes ago, his lawyer had called him, confirming his thoughts of the previous days.

"You're not wrong." His lawyer has already clarified it once, twice, three times. "If there is evidence beyond a shadow of a doubt, then it is the correct term for a divorce.

Carlos feels his blood run cold. He loves her, he's as certain as that as he is of the fact that the sky is blue and his win in Silverstone. The man wants nothing more than to make her feel cherished, adored. Taking a bite out of his teammate was just a bonus feature.

That had been a few days ago, when the anger had surpassed him after Natasha’s return, how that made him look as bad, if not worse than Charles. He’d immediately sent her packing, blocked her on every form of media, gone as far as to insist if she ever came for a visit, he wouldn’t be present.

The second part, the evidence, had been laid out all too perfectly.

The line suddenly clicks, signaling his lawyer had returned. Carlos doesn't wait for a verbal queue, the audible sign of his return is more than enough.

“Do you have it?” He asks, barely any time to let the man on the other end of the phone respond. “You must have it, no? It should have been sent. I made sure it was sent.”

“I have it.” He clarifies. “I have them right here.” A rustle of paper is heard from the other end of the telephone, content of an envelope being spilled onto his desk. “Are you sure you want me to send these to be confirmed as evidence? That the women in the photographs will not retaliate?”

Carlos had not been entirely honest with you. Not about his knowledge of Charles’ situation. Ever since the confession all those months ago, the understanding that you knew of Charles’ affair, he had been playing a long, patient game. He had photographs, evidence of the mistress’ appearance at each paddock, her arms snaking around Charles’ body, kisses between the duo. How he could continue to do so, whilst you, the epitome of beauty, sat in his drivers’ room, playing the doting wife. At one point, he had considered going directly to the press, directly to Ferrari themselves to out their ‘Golden Boy.’

And then…he had seen you with him in the Paddock that one race, looking through the window of his driver’s room. How your fingers latched onto one another, how genuinely shattered you looked when she had shown up yet again, lingering outside of the hospitality area. The guilt snuck through him, how he had seen her arrive, and yet failed to mention to you, give you any warning of her presence.

Even if he had been the one to invite her. Even if he had been the one to press her about sending the photographs to Charles, not blackmail. Merely a reminder of his actions, how much he supposedly missed his mistress.

“She wouldn’t.” He’s quick to respond. “She wouldn’t care.” He’s not wrong, his mistress being in the limelight would only elevate her status, with the way his teammates’ brain worked, it would more than likely draw them back to one another.

“And Mrs. Leclerc?”

It’s the first time Carlos has hesitated. Even if he couldn’t admit it to himself, he knew that your relationship with Charles had grown, that ambient it was made paper-thin, the trust was slowly beginning to come back. He thinks about how your eyes blinked widely, in awe of your husband on the podium earlier that day, how it supposedly didn’t matter he had spent most of your marriage wrapped in her arms, you still looked at him like that. Did you look at him like that? Like the way he looked at you.

This action could draw out a multiverse of reactions but at the end of the day, he had settled with two. The first was that you understood, that you would see the evidence, and understand the case. Divorce Charles and marry him, even if it meant he would give up everything.

The second is that you would see the chaos he caused and you would never speak to him again.

“Mr. Sainz?” The voice at the end of the telephone draws him from his questioning, running a hand across his red, swollen nose. It wasn’t broken, but god it was hurting. Bruised, most likely. “I need an answer.”

He needed to speak to you.

“Can you just-” He huffs, running a hand through his dark hair, his fingers almost getting caught in the strands. Of course his hair was tangled, he’d been doing nothing but pulling on it ever since he arrived at the hospital. “Let me speak to her. Hold it for 24 hours. You can do that, yes?” It’s not even a question now, nor a request. It’s a demand. He can’t do this, he can’t openly destroy your marriage for his own sake without speaking to you, without knowing for a fact that you love him.

Your name is carved onto his soul, onto his skin. The first thing he thinks about in the morning, and the last thing he would think about at night. There is no life he wishes to live in if you’re not there. Even as his friend.

There’s suddenly a light tap against glass, snapping the man’s attention from his device. He mumbles something in Spanish, telling his lawyer he would call him back, dreading who was coming out into the private courtyard.

He visibly relaxes when he sees it’s just a man, sneaking out whilst tears pool on his lower lashline, giving Carlos a warming nod.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do I?” The Spainard shakes his head. “My wife- she’s just being induced and wanted some space. She’s…” He gestures, trying to explain to a complete stranger how a few minutes ago, his wife wanted to cry and shake her head, but wanted nothing to do with him. It was all his fault.

Carlos offers a warm hand on his back, patting him firmly. “Congratulations. Do you know what you're having?” He’s invested, anything to distract him from his previous phone call, the weight of a decision on his shoulders.

The stranger grins. “A girl.” He smiles harder. “I don’t mind, as long as they arrive happy and healthy. But god- a girl, just like her.” He thinks. Carlos thinks. In an alternative universe, he’s sat by your side, pressing kisses and praises to your skin, holding you tighter as your daughter enters the world, ready to meet her mother and father. She would be like you; your eyes, hair, smile. It would be another you to love, to adore.

“Your first?” Carlos presses his question. The man sighs, shaking his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks into the polished corridor.

“No. She’s…” He pauses. “We got together after hiding how we felt for so long, how we wanted to be with one another.” He looks to Carlos, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of the situation. “I know how it sounds, but sometimes you can’t help it. I- I love her.”

A band snaps in Carlos’ stomach; love knows no bounds.

Love is waking up to think of your person.

The first thing you register when you come around is brightness. You’re not in the soft glow of the luxurious hotel room you and your husband had been given, nor the candle-lit bedroom of Carlos’ apartment. No, the light is bright, blinding. An off-white which made your eyes squint.

Your senses are heightened; the only scent which flares through your nostrils is hand sanitiser and overpowering lilies. Nose scrunched, you attempt to wiggle your body upwards, aware of the IV line pinned into your hand. Panic immediately settled through your tummy, until your eyes flickered to the bag, realizing it was just water, they just wanted to rehydrate you.

Hesitantly, you wiggle each part of your body. Arms, hands, fingers. You’re able to move, though you couldn’t…you couldn’t remember why you got here. Memories are hazy, you remember Charles’ podium, the way he kissed you so deeply, so lovingly. Carlos’ hand on your waist, pulling you back to stop you from the champagne trickling over your body. You were overwhelmed, overworked and…you guessed it just all became too much.

You just about manage to turn your body, the first thing you’re aware of is that your cushion smells familiar. Warm nodes, sandalwood and seasalt. It’s a smell you’ve grown all too accustomed to, burying your face into their chest whilst you took refuge in his arms, in a hotel room. Charles had been there, already. His celebrations had clearly been cut short, whether or not it was for show or because he cared.

The second thing is the coffee cup. Cardboard, the contents clearly already drained, but handwriting etched onto the side in a thick, black marker. The handwriting, the doodle of a tiny butterfly. Carlos had been there, too.

There’s a sharp pinch on your cheek, fingers reach up to your skin and feel the butterfly strips against you. Immediately, a thousand questions come back to your mind, none of them being answered through your own memory. Instead, the door opens, a nurse in clean, bright uniform walking in, closing the door behind her. She beams at the realization you’re awake, shoulders relaxing.

“You’re awake!” Her tone is incredibly warm, seemingly very happy you’ve decided to wake up on your own terms. She’s quick to move to your bedside, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “How are you feeling? Have you warmed up?” You’re not sure what she’s referencing, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She takes the look on your face as unknowingness, able to fill in the gaps.

“You collapsed on the track.” She’s trying to get through everything she needs to tell you. “We did some tests, you’re incredibly dehydrated for a start, you need to try and get some rest.” She pauses. “It’s nothing to be concerned about, we have collapses from dehydration every so often, more than you would realize.” Her eyes flicker down, finding it hard on how to phrase the next part of the question. “You also seem…incredibly worried.” You’re not sure how she could tell that from simply examining you, but you nod in confirmation. “Your blood pressure, it’s incredibly low. That’s why you fainted.”

“Yes.” You pause. How on earth were you about to explain the past twelve months to a nurse, a complete stranger? “There’s been some…reasons. You know, for the stress.” Her eyes soften, but the questioning continues.

“Are you trying for a baby?” You shake your head. “Moving house?” A shake. “Have you…lost somebody recently.”

You freeze, memory flickering to your mother, how in the midst of fixing your marriage, discovering your affection towards another, she had disappeared from the world. This time, you nod your head, drawing your knees up to your body, shivering. The nurse is quick to wrap a blanket over your shoulders, closer to the answer.

“I lost my mother.” You breathe out, shaking your head. “I lost my mother, and she’s the only one I can go to.” Now you’ve started speaking, you can’t finish. “I want to make them happy. I want to make him happy.” There’s tears glassing over your eyes.

You want him. You want him right now.

She sympathizes, she understands. “Sometimes, all you need is for them to tell you it’s going to be okay, right?” She lets her words trail off, turning to the door of your room. “He’s outside. He’s been waiting to see you.”

Your blood freezes.

“Would you like me to get him?”

You nod before you’ve even realized, your body clearly knows better than your mind. The nurse stands up straight, pacing towards the door as you feel your heart begin to race harder, frantically. She steps out of the room, a minute mumble on the other side, clearly a warning to be incredibly careful. It’s barely a minute before the door swings back open, dark hair and frantic panting.

You glance up, your heart softens at those eyes.

The eyes that you, the reader, wanted to see as you glanced to the door.

GREEN EYES [CL16 Ending]

BROWN EYES [CS55 Ending]

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teddywook · 15 days

Text

(de)stressed ꨄ song eunseok

wanings. dom!eunseok x sub!fem, pet names, breeding, spit, daddy kink, mommy kink (i guess), unprotected sex, and for sure i'm forgetting something but well.

words. 2.229k

i really really hate methodology.

@sehodreams you remember i was talking to you about this like, yesterday? so... couldn't contained myself.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

—stupid bitch

is the first thing eunseok hears when he enters your shared room. his eyebrows rise when he hears you let out an annoyed growl and curse under your breath as you forcefully press the keys of your laptop on the desk.

—harsh words coming from such a pretty mouth

he has a lopsided smile when you turn to look at him, your lips involuntarily pouting after letting out a snort. he crosses the room to get to you, his hands gripping the back of your chair and turning it to face you. eunseok leans his body towards you as he leans the back of your chair and presses a kiss to your plump lips, taking his time to enjoy their softness.

—what is bothering my baby so much?

he asks quietly, one of his hands still holding the seat back as he cradles your face, his thumb rubbing lovingly over your cheek.

eunseok watches your brows furrow, your pout turning into a displeased grimace and your nostrils flaring as you let out another annoyed snort.

—my methodology teacher reviewed my progress and made me correct most of my text. it's a fucking fictitious company. the hell did she mean that my justification is not viable? she even dared to say that i misquoted the author. i've been working with sampieri long enough to know that i'm quoting correctly. does she think i'm that dumb? she's the stupid bitch here, she needs someone to fuck her bad attitude off, maybe then she'd stop being a pain in the ass.

—language, pretty girl

his voice sounds like a mocking warning. it's not that it really bothers him, on the contrary. eunseok finds it funny that his beautiful and adorable girlfriend have such a... wide vocabulary. but he knows it bothers you when he corrects you and he likes to see you roll your eyes every time he does it.

—language my balls. who are you? my dad?

this time eunseok's eyebrows raise in surprise. there's a glint of amusement in his eyes when he speaks again.

—it seems like you're the one who needs someone to fuck that attitude out of you, baby girl

it's you who looks at him in surprise this time. you want to be upset by his comment, but more than being offended, it sends shivers down your spine.

—forget it, i should do this shit before i kill myse-

you can't finish your sentence when eunseok drops your seat back onto the floor. his hands quickly reach for the elastic of your pajama shorts to put it down along with your panties.

—eunseok!— your voice is a squeal that turns into a gasp as your boyfriend slaps your pussy.

his hands hold your thighs, parting your legs, placing them on the armrest of your seat. eunseok falls to the ground on his knees, getting dangerously close to your core

—seok seriously, i need to continue with my wor-

—shut up— another slap makes you jump in your place with a whimper— don't you dare to move

you listen how your boyfriend clears his throat and the sensation of a subtle blow along with the warmth of his saliva sliding through your folds, his fingers rubs it spreading the sticky moisture and he slaps your pussy again.

—where did that attitude come from, huh? such a brat, should i teach you some manners?

—f-fuck you

eunseok clicks his tongue and pinches your clit, putting a little more force on the sensitive bud at your rude response.

—only if you behave well

your boyfriend interrupts what you are about to say with his lips sucking directly on your clit, his fingers dig into your skin while his hands hold your bare thighs tightly, pulling your seat to get you as close to his face as possible.

—damn— you let out a grunt, trying to push your boyfriend's head away, but eunseok is stronger than you and tightens his grip on your spongy thighs. bites hard enough into your sensitive center to cause a sting of pain, but not enough to do real harm.you look down at him, big dark eyes watching you, you can make out a hint of determination and amusement in them.

you know he won't let you go easily, so you collect your pride and finally allow yourself to be manipulated under his touch. not that it was really anything unpleasant after all. eunseok's lips were wonderful, and he was truly a great pussy eater.

you bite your bottom lip and let your head fall back on the back of your seat, your hands go to eunseok's head again, but this time they grab his hair to keep him close. eunseok, for his part, can feel your body relaxing, your thighs losing their tension under his hands.

—good girl

eunseok uses his tongue to teas your entrance, taunting you and causing you to let out a loud whiny moan.

—c'mon seok...

—wanna cum love?

he asks but doesn't need the answer, he knows your body too well. recognize the trembling in your legs, the rocking of your hips looking for friction, the features of your face contracting in pleasure. you feel your orgasm building up in your abdomen, your hands fisting the head of your chair in search of support. and when eunseok hears your moans become more desperate, he abruptly pulls away from your throbbing cunt.

you let out a cry of frustration that sounds more like a whimper at the sudden drop. your eyes widen with a mix of anger and disappointment and you look at eunseok, a smirk on his face as he watches with amusement the way you thrust your hips chasing your orgasm.

—can't gett off baby?

—isn't fair, you're so mean...— your pout causes him tenderness and he decides to show you some mercy.

—aw, my baby so adorable... but she's been a spoild little brat, she can't have what she wants just like that, can she?

he approaches you, his arms lifting you from the seat to take your place, placing you in his lap. one of his arms wrap your waist, pressing you against his chest, the other traces lines on your skin, from your stillclothed shoulders to your inner thighs. coming dangerously close to your cunt, taunting you with a smile when he feels your skin crawl at his touch.

his lips lick the skin from the base of your neck to the lobe of your ear, brushing and biting a little

—say the magic word honey, or i won't let you cum

you bite your bottom lip, a whiny moan leaving you mouth. eunseok knows exactly how to make you weak under his influence.

—please... seok... please

eunseok coos pleased over your ear, a smirk on his face as his fingers make their way to your dripping cunt, pads rubbing against your folds. eunseok's index and ring fingers part your lips while his middle makes circles your throbbing clit.

—that wasn't so hard to do, was it baby?— he receive a whimper as response —you like it? why don't you tell me exactly what you want, love?

—want you to fuck me seok, please... need you

—oh really? need me that bad? but, i don't think you deserve it tho

his hand stop his movements, getting a little a way from your core but still on your inner thigh, grinding the flesh

you let go a yelp, rocking your hips over his lap on a whine but his hand on your waist moves to your hip, griping it to force you to stop. you can feel his hard cock digging on the swell of your ass.

—don't be a little bitch and behave

his voice is husky in your ear, rough and just too hot that got you dripping even more. you need him so bad inside you.

—i'll be good, promise daddy

—mhm, that's it baby. what a good girl for me

eunseok press his middle finger to your core, rubbing a little the sensitive nub before having pressing it into your entrance. your wet walls taking him so well. your little moans makes him wanting to hear more of your sweet sounds so he adds other finger, your count clenching around them.

—seok please nee-

he thrusts his fingers hardest, cutting off your words and taking a loud moan from your part lips.

—whatcha saying baby? didn't hear you

you give your best to collect your words despite your tongue feels numb.

—wanna feel your cock insi- fuck! inside me... shit- need you to fill me up daddy

—i don't think you're allow to get any dick until you cum like this

—but-

—you better not finish that fucking sentence or i'll let you here without you can gett off

eunseok was mean most of times, but tonight was meaner. maybe is your frustration floating out, maybe he's just in the mood. no matter what reason is, you love it.

so you make your lips a plane line and let your head rest against eunseok's shoulder. which allow him to see your fuck out expression making him grin at you pleased.

—that's better babygirl. now be good and cum on daddy's fingers.

eunseok thrusts his fingers in and out of your swollen pussy, hitting that spongy spot that got you seening stars.

he can feel the tremble of your legs, your breath getting heavy as your arched your back. your own fingers digging on his biceps as his drive you to your high.

your walls clenching around his fingers as loud whimpers fills your shared room. eunseok let you rock your hips fucking yourself on them. your movements become slow as you calm yourself.

a pleased sigh leave your mouth, your body laying languished against eunseok's but before you can even say a word, eunseok flips you up.

he bens you over the desk, your cheek against the wooden surface as he keeps your arms behind your back from your wrists with just one hand.

eunseok manages to undo his belt and zip dow his jeans with his free hand. you hear him spit on his hand and the wet sound of him pumping himself. the tip of his cock taunting your entrance

—please

—what it is baby?

—fuck me daddy, please

—can't deny it to my baby when she's asking so nicely

he enters slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. he gets in fully and just stays still with your gummy walls embracing him

it's only when you star to rock your hips against his when he begins to thrust into you.

isn't too fast, but certainly not soft neither. he likes taking his time with you. his thrust are deep and rough, making himself sure you can feel every inch of his cock inside you as he fucks you dumb.

eunseok brings his free hand to brush it off your hair that's blocking him the seen of your pretty face. he caresses your hot cheek delighting in your ruined expression. furrow eyebrows, a puddle of saliva on the wood draining from your part lips. he wraps his hand on the back of your neck, holding you in your place as hi starts thrusting against your pussy harder.

your whines and moans drove him into a frenzy, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside you. your legs fail, but his grip keeps you up. you start to cry his name lost in pleasure.

—can you feel me baby? i'm so fucking deep

—s'good, s'good

—keep going love, moan my name so everyone can hear who makes you feel this good

—s-seok gonna cum

—go ahead baby, cum for me. cum for daddy

eunseok's name leave your mouth in a cry loud whimper. orgams hitting you so hard that made your whole body tremble.

eunseok fuck himself in your milky cunt, your own orgams make your walls embrace him in such delicious way that got him letting his head fall back with shut eyes. groans escaping his lips, both hands griping your hips, diggin on your flesh as he chase his peak, overstimulating you along the way

—too much!

—it's not. good girls take what they are given.

tears runs down your cheeks till the wood, your head feels light due the overwhelming sensations. your poor pussy being abuses at this point.

—oh my fuck, i'm so close

—please...

—you want me to fill you up baby? i really want to breed this precious pussy, sounds good isn't? don't you wanna hear me calling you mommy?

—s-seok!

—cum with me, mommy

that's enough for you to clenching around eunseok's cock on your third orgasm of the night.

he cums behind you, his hot seed filling your cunt and mixes with your own fluids, making a mess on your tights.

eunseok pulls out of you carefully, aware that you are still too sensitive. he lift you up like a bride, taking you to the bathroom.

—seok, my work...

—shhh. for now we're having a warm bath and good sleep. tomorrow you can continue with your work.

—alright love— you feel too sleepy to complain actually.

so you just silently allow your boyfriend to take care of you. he press a kiss on your head, a wide smile on his lips.

—that's my good girl

#riize #song eunseok #riize eunseok #riize smut #eunseok smut #smut #riize x reader #eunseok x reader #eunseok imagines #riize scenarios #riize imagines

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redheadspark · 20 days

Text

Here (Part Three and Final Part)

Summary - Azriel's mate pulls through, but Azriel sets a new target on the one who almost took his mate.

Warnings - Angst with a hint of fluff mixed in

A/N - Part of the Ocean Eyes Series. Here is the last part of this small three-part series, by popular demand. I hope you like it!

Part One

Part Two

Azriel felt himself flying out of the guest room, thankfully moving his son safely to the side of the bed to let him sleep. But you were in his mind, hearing your voice calling out to him so gently and yet strained simultaneously. He was beyond fast, going across the hallway in a mili-second and bursting into your room. He stood still at the doorway, seeing the blue tint of the room thanks to the moonlight and how you were squirming a bit in your position on the bed. Almost as if you were waking up from an unpleasant dream. You squinted, your nose twitching a bit as you took in a sharp inhale.

Azriel…what happened…

"Honey, hey," Azriel said in such a rush and trembled as he made his way over to him, pushing the chair to the side abruptly to be kneeling and in front of your face. He reached up to touch your cheek, his palm against your cheek lovingly as you took in another breath that sounded a bit uncomfortable. Finally, he saw you open your eyes right at him and he finally smiled, tears in his eyes as your gorgeous blue eyes were looking back at his hazel ones. Azriel only said three words, there words that were simple but moved your heart:

"There's my girl,"

All the worry he had, the fears of you dying in front of him and leaving him this world, they no longer existed. You were there, safe and alive, watching him with weary but comforting eyes. Azriel felt like he could breathe again, finally taking in a long breath since it felt like he was holding it in for so long. The last several hours were filled with worry, despair, rage, and devastation at the notion of Azriel watching you slip away from him. He was already thinking over every scenario that could happen to him, but now he simply wished to fall to his knees in both happiness and exhaustion from being on edge for far too long.

"Az?" You finally voice, your voice so raw and yet still gentle. Azriel beamed, tears down his face from hearing your voice finally. How he missed your voice, the warmth it brought like the sun rays on a summer day. Hearing it in the bond was one thing, but to finally hear It with his ears, made the tension that he carried fly away and out the window.

He took out a long breath, attempting to remain composed in front of you as you were searching his eyes, but it was all too much for him. He hid his face for a brief moment into his arm, the last thing he wanted to do was to show his tears to do since you were the one who was hurting and near death. Although you were still in the same pain and drowsy, you were concerned seeing your mate in such a way in front of you,

"Azriel, what.." You were about to ask, not understanding what was going on, but Azriel inhaled sharply and looked back at you. You saw the pain in his eyes, pain that was mixed relief and grief as he scanned your eyes.

"I'm just fucking glad you're okay," He hummed, his voice sounding so broken but also ecstatic at the same time. He leaned forward, kissing your cheeks and forehead over and over while his hands cradled your face and stayed so close to you. You heard it and saw it, how he was so worried and now relived that you were there and breathing.

"Cauldron, don't you dare scare me like that again," he said against your hair as he cradled your face in his palms, you feeling some of his tears hit your cheeks and nose. You carefully reached up to touch his wrists, holding him there like an anchor as you were letting him kiss you all over and touch you.

The last thing you remembered was trying to fly into the sky, masked men chasing after you and attempting to ambush you, and then the searing pain that blossomed throughout your entire body. The scream from your lips was almost animalistic as your vision went cold and you fell from the sky, limp and cold.

But now you were there, warm in a bed and Azriel in front of you with fresh tears.

"Where am I?" You asked, looking around at the room you were in. Azriel moving the hair from your eyes and rubbing your arms soothingly.

"River House," Azriel explained, "Cassian found you out cold and brought you here. You've been asleep for a good 9 hours, baby,"

You attempted to sit up a bit, in hopes to maybe gather your bearings, but you froze and gasped out in pain. The entirety of your back had a spasm from the shocking pain and you whimper. Your wings felt so stiff and painful, especially your left wing, almost like it was on fire as Azriel wrapped you in his arms and helped you go back to your side.

"Your wings are still healing, rest for me," He urged you as you sighed and took in a few long breaths, "Madja got most of the poison out from your wing but there's still some left,"

It made you look at him in shock from the news that there's poison in your wing. No wonder you were feeling insane pain, to the point that moving your wing would be almost like torture so to speak. You recalled that searing white pain when you were flying up in the sky, the pain was large enough to have you lose your breath and then pass out cold, paralyzing you within seconds.

You shot an alarmed look at Azriel, "Where's Alec? Is he safe? Is he—" You were about to ramble several questions all at once about your son, who was now in your mind at the forefront of your worries.

"He's okay, sweetheart. Alec's safe and okay. Look, he's asleep right across the hall, see?" Azriel said to you, you looking out the door that was left abruptly open. Even from your spot on the bed, you could see Alec, tucked away in bed amongst the messy sheet and snoring away with his head on the pillow. Watching your son shift in his sleep, his black hair was that was growing out a bit too long against the dark blue satin pillows, you smiled at the view. There was your son, safe and sound, sleeping as if nothing was going to harm him.

Just the way you both wanted.

"He's worried about his momma, just like I am," Azriel explained, his voice solemn as you looked from your sleeping son to your mate, watching him scan your body up and down with his wide eyes. Although you knew his worry was valid from what happened to you, you also wanted to bring Azriel would have the current headspace he was in, which was dark and almost sickening. So you moved your own hands up to cup his cheeks and face, feeling how flushed he was along his skin and almost clammy.

You leaned up and kissed him, his lips were soothing to you since it felt like years since you kissed him last. Azriel instantly caved and melted into your touch as he cupped your jaw with one hand and the other moving down along your waist to tuck you in close without harming your damaged wings. You both needed this kiss, not in a lustful manner but in such a way like lovers who have been separated for some time. It felt like it, you missing his warmth and his soothing touch for however long you were unconscious and slipping in and out of reality. It felt like you were in some deep sleep that had no dreams or nightmares, but almost like you were walking in the form of direction.

Kissing Azriel was your direction, your guided path, and it felt like you were found again.

You barely pulled away from him, breathing in the scent that only Azriel would carry while you were still caressing his face with your fingers and watching him with love in your eyes, "I'm right here, Azriel. I'm right here and breathing and I'm not going anywhere,"

"You better not," He hummed, almost in a light joke but the emotion was still there in his voice, "You're not allowed to leave me In this world,"

"Never," You vowed, that single word rang in the air between you two in the small room. You still had plenty of questions about what happened, from what you remembered last and what occurred in between. Did Azriel know what happened to you? Did the others know and find out through him?

Who was it that did this to you?

Perhaps your husband and mate knew you were thinking deeply, from the look on your face made him stare at you lovingly," You don't need to worry about it, my love,"

Of course, you were going to worry, waking up in a foreign bed and insane pain from almost being poisoned to death. Youknew you were in no unmarked territory or area that you shouldn't be in. In actuality, you knew the woods for centuries and were familiar with the layout. So you weren't lost, nor were you in a nasty situation. Which only left…

"Who was it?" You croaked out, Azriel's eyes going a bit big from the sudden question from you. But you were alert and watching him intently, to which he was shocked by what you meant.

Azriel shook his head, "No, no. Don't worry about it right now, okay?"

"Az—" You were about to argue, but he interrupted you.

"That's for me to deal with, not you," he stated to you, you searching his eyes and seeing something a pinch darker. Hetook in a long inhale, "I'm going to take care of it, I need to. Someone tried to take you from me, and I can't let that go,"

He sounded so broken in that moment with what he said to you, the protective side of Azriel was visible over his eyes and in how he was even kneeling next to the bed. Stiff, on alert, and almost mechanical. This side of Azriel was more prone to inflict fears onto others, to bring even the strongest of men to their knees. You have only seen it a few times in all the life you had with him, and it felt like you were seeing it all over again.

"Stay with me, tonight. Stay Azriel, please," you pleaded with him, thinking having him with you would be the safer option than for him to go out on a rampage. Even with the several questions ringing in your mind, somehow you were willing to just be with your mate. You are also trying to distract him from doing something he would regret in the end, and Azriel reluctantly takes the bait. He sighed, inhaling deeply and then nodding.

"Okay," He hummed, the anger that was threatening to overcome him was now diminishing and evaporating into the air. Maybe he sensed your worry over him, the panic that he may do something that would make him be filled with regret. Carefully, but with swift movement that seemed so fluid, he scooped you in his arms. You clung to him, feeling a bit of the pain as he kissed your forehead and knelt on the bed. He gently got you back on the bed, though he was now on his back and having your head tucked into his neck. Your arms around him, being able to use his body now instead of a body pillow that you were attached to for several hours, and breathing in his musky and yet gentle scent.

Azriel cradled you close in his arms, finding that love again as your body was against his, your hair against his cheek and nose, and feeling your heartbeat against his own. This was his center again, the fact that you were awake and there with Azriel made him feel safe all over again. The last 9 hours were hell, torture upon himself since he had no way to help you or make you wake up for him. But not anymore, and the happiness he thought he lost was slowly coming again in wave after wave.

"I love you," You hummed, your energy was dropping as sleep was about to overcome you. Azriel held you a pinchtighter as you felt his fingers in your long hair.

"I love you more than the stars in all of Prythian," He vowed against your head, you feeling his fingers move along your hair and his lips along your forehead, "I got you right here, get some sleep,"

While you were holding him gently and falling back asleep, a smile was now etched on your lips with the sense of security in your mind that your husband and mate were both holding and protecting you, Azriel was already thinking of what he was going to do with your attacker and whoever else was behind this. Even while you were alive and well, he still had the protective streak about him and that side that was locked away.

It's been some time since he let his Spymaster side come out full throttle, maybe it was time for it to happen again.

"High Lord Beron informed me that Eris went rogue,"

Azriel rubbed his face in his hand, both in frustration and with the anger festering under his skin as he was sitting across from Rhysand in his office. Cassian was chatting with you in the room where you are recovering, Nesta and little Rose accompanying him as they were giving you some company. Alec too was with you, not once leaving your side when he woke up and found you awake in your bed and happy to see him. Azriel knew then that he needed to talk to Rhysand and Cassian about the meeting they had with High Lord Beron the night before while he was with you. Though he was furious that they both conducted with him present, he also knew why: he would have torn the room to pieces in anger beyond reason.

"We showed him the arrow, and he recognized it from Eris's security and their stash of arrows. Not to mention the poison that the arrow was drenched in. He found out Eris left Autumn Court an hour before the attack happened, and hasn't returned since," Rhysand explained to Azriel, seeing how his shadows were fuming from near this news. Cassian side-eyed Azriel, feeling the tension himself as he cleared his throat.

"Beron doesn't condone what he did, and he claims that it's not a representation of Autumn Court," He said halfheartedly.

"Cassian," Rhysand said in a warning tone, but Cassian simply glared back at him.

"I'm not gonna sugar coat it, Rhys. I don't buy what Beron said: it came from his Court and that makes me suspicious of him," Cassian explained in a shrug.

"I agree, but I also need to take into account that Beron would not place his own Court in the line of fire. He hasn't since the war, why would he do that now?" Rhysand countered back, Cassian huffed silently as he leaned back in his chair. Rhysand focused back on Azriel, who was still quiet throughout the exchange and looking down at his scarred hand that clutched the arm of his chair. Rhysand could talk to him through his bond with him, he's done it in the past. But something about this moment, seeing his Spymaster and his brother, trying to hold it together, he didn't want to pry his mind. It felt too emotional for him, too raw even, to even tap into his mind.

"Beron has soldiers looking for him, and he had made it his personal mission to search for Eris. We also have permission to find him with our men since this happened in our Court," Rhysand explained to Azriel, motioning his head over to Cassian, "Cassian volunteered Illyrians to comb the sky and the woodlands as we speak. If he is found in our territory, we can punish him as we see fit."

Once again, Azriel said nothing, to which both Rhysand and Cassian gave him uneasy looks since the calm demeanor that Azriel was giving off was unsettling. Neither one of them seen him so calm, so collected almost, especially considering his mate nearly died hours before.

"I've already warned the other High Lords in case he does hide out in the other Courts, though I did not close the details and what precisely happened. All of them agreed to notify us if he does show up in their territories, and if he is found—"

"He's mine," Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and raw. Both Cassian and Rhysand shot a look at him, seeing him slowly uncurling his fingers from the arm of the chair. Marks were seen in the wood from his nails, to which his palm was facing up and he made a small fist.

"Azriel, you need to focus on your mate and your son, not Eris," Rhysand gently reminded him, but Azriel shook his head once.

"He's mine," He repeated, his eyes not swaying from looking at his scarred hand. Cassian was looking at him in concern now as Azriel was sitting so still, not blinking once.

"Az," Cassian was about to chime in, but Azriel jumped up abruptly for the chair with such force the chair fell back behind him and bounced off the floor. The fury in his stance, the heated stare that illuminated his hazel eyes, even his shadows were radiating off his body as he glared at Rhsyand in front of him.

"HE WENT AFTER MY WIFE!" He bellowed, his voice booming off the walls with such a force that it was almost deafening. Both the High Lord of Night Court and the Illyrian Army Commander were silent, almost afraid themselves as Azriel was still glaring at Rhysand.

"My…fucking…wife. He wanted her dead….and he went after Alec when he was a babe. I'm done with him and with this," Azriel growled, his scarred hands clenched so tight Rhysand saw the veins pop out in contrast to his scars, "I am done letting him sliding through my fingers. I watched my own wife nearly die in my arms Rhys, enough is enough. Don't you fucking dare tell me you wouldn't feel the same if it was Feyre who was nearly killed,”

Azriel was heated, he might have crossed a line mentioning his High Lady, but he was agitated and no longer wished to be composed. Rhysand felt the pain, and deep down he was right: Rhysand would feel the same if Feyre was the one who was hurt. He would have reprimanded Azriel for mentioning Feyre, but he wasn't going to. Not when Azriel was right. Azriel looked over at Cassian.

"Or you with Nesta," he said, Cassian inwardly growled from the thought of Nesta being in that position.

"I want his head on a spike," Azriel stated as he looked back at his High Lord, "He needs to pay from these past years breathing fear down my family's back for his amusement. I need to know, here and now, that he is mine when he is caught. DoI have your word?"

He was asking Rhsyand, both as his High Lord and also as his brother and friend. He could go against Rhysand if he needed to, his mind was simply on ending Eris and eliminating the threat against his family. No matter what it took, the length and the commitment, he would. But this was one last ditch effort for Azriel to get his High Lord's permission, the last inch of sanity he had.

Rhsyand, giving him a solemn look knowing that Azriel was driven in this, took in a long inhale.

"You have my word," He replied, sealing Eris's hate.

The End.

Tagging - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @sizzlingstarlightsky @iluvyewman-blog @masbt1218 @a-courtof-azriel @homeslices @zanzie @topaz125 @saltedcoffeescotch @he6rtshaker @tenshis-cake @pruvii

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queenariesofnarnia · 4 months

Text

finally found you

gif not mine!

tech x f! reader

wc: 910

warnings: faked death and hidden pregnancy, that should be it.

takes place after s2 e13

tech x f!reader

~after the sea surge~

Every citizen on Pabu was safe. Among those citizens was you and your twins. You helped out the best you could while carrying them. You heard Phee returned so you were looking for her while assisting everyone. You heard your name being called, turning to see Phee.

“I’ve been looking for you all night sugar” She says grabbing your face before kissing the twins on their heads. “Give me one and come meet my friends” she grabs your daughter Selene from you. As you walk with her chatting. Selene babbled along. You look up to see a face you’d never expect to see again.

“Tiny is that you? or am I going crazy?” Wrecker asks leaning down to hug you tightly. You had to stop him, so he didn’t crush Apollo.

“I would love a hug Wreck, but little guy back here isn’t ready for one of your hugs” you say showing him your son who was sleeping on your shoulder.

“You have a kid?!” He asked shocked. You point to Selene in Phee’s hands.

“I have two. It’s why I left actually” you admit sheepishly. He hollers for Hunter and Tech. Hunter immediately recognizes you as does Tech.

“Sarad? There’s no way, you’re supposed to be dead” Hunter gets ready to scold you lovingly before noticing Apollo. Phee hands Selene back to you, telling you she’s going to help Shep.

“Surprise” You say cradling Selene close to you.

“You have kids?” Tech asks raising his brows. Selene’s wild curls were the same color as Tech’s hair. Apollo’s curls matched your hair. Hunter quickly figured it out just waiting for his brother to figure it out.

“Yeah, I do. Well, it was lovely seeing you boys, but I must get going” You started to walk away until you heard your name again. Turning to see Omega. You hand Selene to Hunter quickly before pulling the blonde girl into your arms.

“I have missed you so much” her eyes begin to tear up. “I was so worried when you stopped showing up to the lab. Especially after the last time” She said before burying your face in your shirt.

“I have missed you too. Please meet Selene and Apollo” you say gesturing to your twins. As you let her go from the hug, her hand remained in yours. “Would you like to hold one of them?” you ask, and she nods. You let her grab Apollo who was now showing his brown eyes off to the world. Hunter seemed to be enjoying holding Selene as she giggles toying with his hair. Tech pulled you away for a moment, making sure you could still see the twins.

“How old are they?” he asked, not wanting his voice to betray him.

“They’ll be two next week” you answer not looking at him. His gloved hands reach for yours giving them a squeeze. It was what he used to do to get your attention.

“Is there a reason you did not tell me?” his voice cracking. Emotions were hard for him, this was the moment that he let them win.

“You were a soldier Tech. The Kaminoans would have taken them from me. Nala Se and Omega protected me by getting me off Kamino. I couldn’t say goodbye, I couldn’t let anyone know who the father was. You were not going to get decommissioned because of me.” you answer him finally meeting his eyes. “Master Plo was able to help me leave the order we told the council I was killed in action to make it easy” you added on.

“We mourned you. We hated ourselves because you ‘died’ in action without us by your side” he was expressing his anger, and you weren’t going to stop him. He deserved this moment. “You went through your pregnancy and motherhood alone during the last two years. I appreciate that you chose to consider my feelings. I would have done whatever to be there for you” he finished.

“I’m sorry Tech. I didn’t want to hurt you or the others. I sorry that I made this choice without talking to you. I’m not asking you to forgive me, at least let me introduce you to them properly. You can decide if you want to stay after” your voice was desperate. You had no right to ask him to do anything, but it would make you feel better if he met them properly.

“I would love nothing more” He took your hand leading you through the crowd back to his brothers and sister.

“Tech this is Apollo” you grab your son from Wrecker handing him to Tech. “And this is Selene” Omega hands her to you. The smile on Tech’s face made your heart swell. The way he held Apollo with care made you smile. He wrapped his free arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Dada” Apollo babbled touching Tech’s face. The others watched in awe as their normally logical brother melt into a puddle.

“Dada” Selene mimics her brother reaching for Tech also.

“Looks like were staying on Pabu” Hunter says cracking a smile.

“I have enough room in my home” you tell them. Omega’s arms went around your waist talking about her excitement that they get to stay. You place a kiss on Tech’s cheek causing him to get flustered.

“I believe I deserve a real kiss.” Tech says leaning down kissing your lips like it was the first time all over again.

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #tbb tech #wrecker x reader #tbb hunter x reader

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princessbrunette · 21 days

Text

as ironic as it sounds, being shy was not for the weak.

sure, there was the obvious things like finding it difficult to make friends, feeling like you might pass out any time you have to order your own food, feeling deathly embarrassed for just doing simple things like wearing a new item of clothing or using an umbrella. all of those things accumulated from an amalgamation of anxiety ridden experiences that kept you awake at night — but the worst thing you found about being incredibly shy, was being unable to stick up for yourself.

it’s not like you didn’t have things to say, lord knows if you weren’t shy you would have torn these girls to shreds. however, any time you wanted to say anything, it was like you were frozen. like an evil villain from a storybook had stolen your voice box and left you defenceless against a huddle of evil stepsisters. you were convinced the girls in your ballet class were born evil. never taught right from wrong whilst you were forced into the corner of each session hot in the face and trying your hardest to concentrate whilst they loudly comment on you like you weren’t there.

“you know pope heyward pays for her dance tuition because she’s a pogue.”

“seriously? i’d be too embarrassed to even show my face if someone else had to pay my tuition for me. it’s not even that expensive.”

“right? imagine being poor, can’t relate. my friend said she saw her stealing from sephora last week, it’s like people don’t have shame anymore.”

“no offence but she shouldn’t even be in here with us.”

the catty laughter that followed only added insult to injury, and it continued on this way for the rest of the two hour session you were stuck with them for. by the end, you were ready to just leave that place and never return. perhaps you could simply find a way to pay pope off and go back to whatever it was you were doing before you joined the dance school.

a flood of relief washes over you when you finally return to popes student apartment, using the key he’d offered you to let yourself in— body slumped from exhaustion and sore from carrying your bags. you could see on the forecast there was a fifty percent chance of going non verbal tonight, just to recover from the day you’d had.

for a second the negative thoughts slip away when the door opens and one third of your trio is stood there bouncing a football off the wall. jj maybank, one of your two lovers turns his head and beams at you — and you don’t realise you’re crumpling into a sob until you recognise the crease in his brow and the way his smile slides off his face as quickly as it arrived.

“hey? woah, uh— let’s close this door yeah sugar? lemme get these bags. why’re you crying? c’mon tell papa j.” he’s doing everything at once — closing the door behind you whilst catching your trembling body and removing your bags from your grip.

“can’t do it. can’t do it anymore.” you wail into his chest as he pats your back in disorientation. jj was never the best at this kind of thing, but he was learning. at the commotion, pope comes strutting into the hallway in his rich-boy cardigan and slacks and you can’t even look at him. he’s everything you’re not.

“jj, please don’t tell me you made her cry two steps into this damn apartment.” pope deadpans and jj’s eyes widen at the accusation.

“wh— dude it wasn’t me! she just… walked in and started crying.” his voice softens and he cradles the back of your head, watching the way popes demeanour falters and he furrows his eyebrows, stepping closer.

“hey… did something happen? we need to know.” pope tries to get through to you, but you wrap your arms around jjs neck, hiding yourself from the world. the academic boy sighs, before nodding his head to jj to gesture to bring you into the living room. “i’m… gonna make you some tea. okay?” you feel the gentle touch of his hand on your back before he departs, leaving jj to lovingly wrangle you to the couch.

before long, you’re nestled between the two with your knees to your chin, allowing yourself to be coddled by your boyfriends.

“and — and then they said i’m poor and they saw me stealing… said i shouldn’t even be in the same room as them.” you tremble, staring ahead as pope mops up your tears.

“those little prissy bit—”

“jj.” pope warns before turning to you. “look, please don’t listen to them pretty girl. you belong there just as much as anyone else. more— even.” he shakes his head with wide eyes.

“no they’re right. i feel like a fraud even existing in the same space as them.”

“you got the whole shoplifting thing under control anyway so what’s their deal?” jj stands up, restless as he rips his hat off, running a hand through his hair before beginning to spin his cap around his fingers.

“i should have been more careful.” you squeak and jj sighs, coming back to you to stroke a hand lovingly over your head.

“forget these stuck up kook assholes, okay? no offence pope.”

“none taken.”

he cups your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “you’re our little ballerina — and like, the best one i’ve ever seen. trust me, they’re mad ‘cus they’re jealous. i know that for a fact.”

“exactly. total case of jealousy.” pope chimes in, a hand resting on your lower back.

“so you’re not quittin’. you’re gonna go back to that studio tomorrow, with your head held high, and if you don’t tell them all to fuck off — i’ll come n’do it for you.” jj announces, loud and proud. you let a sniffly giggle slip, which relieves the two of them.

“jayj y’can’t do that.”

“okay — so i can’t come n’ tell them to fuck off but…” he leans in closer, suddenly dead serious. “i find out any of these chicks have brothers or boyfriends? they’re gonna have to answer to my glock. that should shake ‘em up.”

“yeah that’s smart. get kicked off campus.” pope sarks, the two of you knowing he would never actually do something like that — purely speaking out of emotion.

“for our girl? anything, dude.”

“okay well. more productively,” pope pats his thighs decisively before leaning forward to the coffee table and grabbing your mug of tea, placing it in your hands. “you’re gonna drink this, and then me and this thug are gonna make you feel all better. okay?” whilst you take a sip, pope presses a kiss to your forehead.

“feel better how?” you pout once you’d swallowed, holding your tea a little firmer as you feel jj drop carelessly into the seat beside you.

“i’m gonna massage out any aches and pains you may be experiencing from your dance class, and trust me i am well versed in the human body so i can really get in there.” pope explains, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you closer.

“mhm…” you encourage him to continue, already melting into the relaxation.

“and then, me and jj are gonna make you cum. a lot. many many times.” he states matter-of-factly, shooting a tingle through your body like he did each and every time he made a filthy promise like that. although you’re not looking at jj, you feel his hand raise in the air as he leans back on the couch.

“now that i can get behind.”

maybe you’d be okay after all.

#mouse!reader #kook!pope #jj x reader x pope

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Note

can we maybe get a blurb about bf ale comforting reader after a nightmare? she just screams warmth and calm and i need that in my life

three things II a.putellas

alexia's eyes fluttered open as she felt a sudden eratic movement beside her, the catalan blinking groggily as her sight adjusted to the dimly lit room, able to make our your silhouette sat at the end of the bed, shoulders hunched over as she heard your loud and labored breathing fill the bedroom.

"amor?" she rasped out, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. when you didn't respond the girl frowned, crawling forwards and gently tugging on the back of your top. you jumped about a foot in the air as she did, alexia quickly withdrawing her hand.

"hey. amor what has happened?" your girlfriend asked quietly, accent even thicker in her half asleep state, moving to throw the covers off and slowly standing, coming to squat on the floor between your legs.

her hazel eyes shone with concern as her hands came to rest on your knees, gently rubbing your legs as her heart broke seeing the obvious discomfort and distress in your features.

"it felt so real i-" you mumbled, burying your face in your hands and letting out a small sob you tried to muffle. "oh princessa." alexia whispered realizing you'd clearly had a bad dream of sorts, standing up and pulling your head to rest on her stomach as she gently cradled you.

"you are safe, you are here with me. and i would not ever let anything bad happen to you baby." alexia promised over and over, one hand scratching at your scalp as the other gently rubbed your back, feeling your tears wet her skin, the taller girl only clad in boxers and a plain black sports bra, the night air thick with the heat of a barcelona summer.

"come on princessa." alexia cooed gently after awhile as you started to calm, still clutching tightly onto her as she gently pried away your hands and helped you back into bed with her.

the older girl sat up against the headboard of her bed, sitting you in between her legs resting against her chest as her hands found your shoulders, gently massaging away the growing tension in your upper body.

"three things you can see bonita." alexia whispered, kissing tenderly behind your ear, knowing exactly how to ground you as you nodded, heart still racing a million miles in your chest.

"the desk, your notebook and your medal." you mumbled quietly, trying to even out your breathing, head still reeling and trying to work out if you were still awake or somehow dreaming.

"three things you can feel." alexia mumbled as she kissed your neck softly, hands slipping down to wrap around your stomach protectively, your head slumping tiredly against her shoulder.

"your lips, the bed sheets and your hands." you answered, squeezing your eyes shut as alexia whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the older girl showering you with praise.

"now three things you can smell, you're doing so good hermosa." your girlfriend promised as you finally started to come back down to earth with her. "lavender, nala's bed, you." you breathed out a little shakily, desperately trying to focus on the way alexias short nails scratched your abs, her lips lovingly trailing their own treasure map across your neck.

"and three things you can hear baby." alexia spoke, gently guiding you to lay down with her, strong arms never leaving their rightful place wrappped around your torso. you took a moment to listen, closing your eyes again as alexias lips lingered on your forehead, mumbling tender adorations into your sweat dampened skin.

"the trees moving with the wind, the cars driving outside and..." you struggled to hear anything else, mind becoming fuzzy as alexia wrapped you up tightly in her love.

"hey it's fine amor. you did so good, so so good. my pretty girl, my best girl." alexia praised you, squeezing you tighter as you nodded, starting to feel yourself slip back into what you prayed would be a dreamless slumber.

"go to sleep mi corazón i will be right here beside you, forever and always."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #fcb femeni

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djarindroid · 3 months

Text

Marry Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl proposes to you under the stars (Established relationship. Setting- Alexandria)

Word Count: 712

Comments: I just wanna write endless fluffy fics for Daryl 💕

The evening breeze carried a feeling of peacefulness as you and Daryl sat outside. This had become routine for the two of you, after a long run or a day's hunt, you’d enjoy a quiet breath of fresh air together. The light from the porch lantern cast a soft glow over the both of you as Daryl meticulously cleaned his crossbow, each movement practised and methodical.

You, perched up on the porch railing, stared at the clear night sky. You’d always found solace in the stars, sparkling way above you, not affected by any of the horrors down here on earth. You almost envied them, so removed from everything, but if you hadn’t faced the uncertainty of this world you wouldn’t be here, with the man you love.

The amount of times Daryl had cleaned his crossbow allowed him to keep his eyes on you as he worked. His gaze was filled with nothing short of adoration as he watched the starlight dance across your skin. To be truthful, if he could spend eternity watching you gaze at the stars he’d be a very happy man. Deciding this was the perfect moment to break the comforting silence, he uttered two of the most important words he’d ever said. ‘Marry me.’

Instantly bringing your attention away from the sky you looked to Daryl, finding him watching you with a soft smile. His request settled around you, making the night air warmer as you felt a grin gradually spreading across your face. You hopped down from the railing and crossed the short distance of the porch to stand in front of Daryl. His eyes never leaving your face, he looked at you as if you were his whole world. You were sure the look on your own face was a mirror of his.

You’d face everything you'd been through all over again if it meant you’d end up here, in this moment. You knew you’d do anything for the man in front of you, and couldn’t fathom a life without him.

You gently cupped his face with your hand, ‘You sure you wanna marry me D?’ You couldn’t help but ask, though you were sure of the certainty behind his words.

‘Yeah,’ he responded without a second thought. The corners of his mouth lifted even higher as he added, ‘never been more sure of somethin’.’ He cupped one of your hands in his and tilted his head to place a delicate kiss on your palm.

You always knew you’d spend the rest of your life with Daryl but hearing him so sure and eager to do so caused happiness to overwhelm every fibre of your being. It was so overwhelming that you couldn’t stop the tears that slowly rolled down your face.

Daryl, ever the man of few words, spoke through his actions. Putting his crossbow to the side he stood up, his eyes stayed glued to yours. He brought his calloused hands up to tenderly cradle your cheeks, using his thumbs to delicately wipe your tears away.

‘Marrying me that bad huh? Didn’t think ya’d cry,’ he jested quietly as he rested his forehead against your own. You laughed quietly with him.

Saying yes to Daryl was as easy as breathing, ‘I’m just so happy and being Mrs Dixon is everything I could ever want,’ you confessed whilst lovingly wrapping your arms around his neck. Fireflies had circled around the two of you, as if the stars themselves had fallen to witness this moment of love that had survived the apocalypse.

‘Good, because I dunno what I would’ve done with this if you’d of said no.’ He pulled out a simple silver ring from his pocket. It was perfect, not too flashy, just a perfect reminder of the connection between the two of you.

Time seemed to stretch around you as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, the weight of its significance settled into your heart. Life was no longer about surviving, it was about building a future together. As you gazed into Daryl’s eyes, gratitude washed over you, thinking about how lucky you were. You knew the stars you loved to stare at didn’t contain all the answers, but in Daryl’s eyes you saw a galaxy shining just for you.

#just another short lil fluffy piece for Daryl #🥰#like this is just how I pictured him proposing to someone #simple and loving #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon #TWD #the walking dead

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archonsabyss · 9 months

Text

╰─..✶. [ Loves Embrace ]

❒ pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

❒ genre: fluff!

❒ warnings: none

❒ wc: 1.4k

─❒ authors note: I may be falling for him.. hard

Nuevillete, with a gentle smile on his lips, leans forward in his seat and attentively asks, "My Dear, what brings you here?"

He watches as you enter his work study and walk over to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek before settling into the chair in front of him. Nuevillete smiles at your display of affection and leans back as he gazes at you.

"I was passing by on my way home and I missed you so I thought I'd pay you a visit"

"Forgive me" Neuvillette responds, extending his hand to delicately grasp yours from across the table and tenderly stroke the back with his thumb. "It seems my tasks have consumed much of my time lately making this unexpected visit most refreshing"

The smile upon your lips disperses his guilt for only a moment as it reminds Neuvillette of the many reasons he fell in love with you. However, in your eyes, there's a trace of loneliness that conveys he's been more absent than he realized and although you've reassured him that you understand the demands of his job and his responsibility to Fontaine, he can't shake the remorse that he's slowly been neglecting his duty as your husband.

As the realization dawns on him, he lets go of your hand from across the table and rises from his seat to circle the desk and come closer to you. He reaches a gloved hand to gently touch your cheek before he leans in, softly pressing his lips to yours, stealing your breath as they meld seamlessly. The longing for his presence begins to fill at his endearing act of affection, the gentle touch of his hand that maintains its hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, releasing his regret and pouring in his immense love for you.

"My affection for you is profound, surpassing even the vastness of the ocean, and your love stirs my heart in a way that no amount of tears ever could"

The luminous gaze of his pearly eyes peering into the depths of your soul, resembles the gaze of a man deeply enamoured, feeling as if one is delving into the heart of a man who exists solely for you. Words simply fall short of describing this captivating affection that radiates from his eyes, leaving you with a heartfelt smile as your hands tenderly cradle his cheeks, drawing him nearer until your foreheads and noses gently touch, sharing a warm exchange of breaths.

The fragile, porcelain-like skin beneath your loving touch feels as delicate as glass, yet you handle it with utmost care, just like the first time your lips met his.

Every second that he stays with you brings him comfort as he leans in, revelling in the sense of belonging you provide.

"I find myself engulfed in my workload, and at times, it consumes my thoughts to the point where I forget everything else until it is time for me to leave," He explains further, his words laced with urgency to convey his absence. "But know, you are my priority. Hold me by my heart, I promise that you are all that matters to me."

"Yeah?" You inquire in astonishment, your thoughts struggling to grasp the depth of his feelings. It's hard to believe that someone as ordinary and unassuming as you could hold such significance for someone as extraordinary and remarkable as him, someone seemingly beyond your reach.

"It appears I haven't fulfilled my role as your husband adequately, my beloved, if my devotion to you comes as such a surprise," He says, a touch of regret in his voice as he takes your hand and urges you to stand.

"If I could envelop you in my embrace and spend every moment showering you with kisses, imparting the depth of your significance until your entire world revolves around your self-worth, I most certainly would," He whispered tenderly into your ear as he embraced you with one hand gently cradling the back of your head as your face nestles against his chest, his otherhand lovingly shaping itself to your lower back.

"I believe in your sincerity, my Love. Every word you say holds significance to me" You reassured, gripping the back of his coat tightly. "At this moment I know that Fontaine needs your attention more than I do, but I have confidence that, just as we've done in the past, we'll overcome this"

"Forgive me, Archons, for I would forsake my duties and responsibilities, allowing the world to descend into chaos and turmoil just to be with you" He uttered exasperatedly, pulling away to look at your face.

"My love," You speak fondly, "You've filled me with pride— immense pride. I would not want to diminish your generosity, but it warms my heart to know how much you would willingly give for me."

Nuevillette bestows upon you a gentle, proud smile and tenderly draws you nearer to him, seemingly unable to get enough of your companionship.

"I would give you the world" He speaks with solemnity, and your faith in his words is unwavering. However, the world holds far less appeal to you than having him in any form or circumstance. Regardless of what the universe may bestow or fate may dictate, as long as he remains alive and breathing, and you can hold him close, that is your greatest desire.

He gently strokes your cheek with his bare hand, for what feels like the umpteenth time.

"I can't argue against that," You whispered so softly, nuzzling your nose against his, tempted to initiate a kiss as he professed his love for you with words that easily won your heart over.

"I'd offer you the same" You inhale deeply before withdrawing, a playful twinkle in your eyes, while Nuevillete's steady gaze remains locked onto you, his lips curving with a mischievous hint.

"Dear one, you sway my heart. Your words are incredibly alluring, and unlike you, I don't believe I'll offer any resistance" Nuevillete playfully says as he leans in to reciprocate the kiss.

A satisfactory moan hums from your chest, "What would your wife say of this behaviour, Monsieur Neuvillette"

"I think she would commend my attempts at seduction"

"Fortunately, she is right here; things might have taken a different turn if I were someone else receiving your seduction" You beam with a broad grin while adjusting his collar.

"Fret not, Dear. This is not a concern you shall ever need to trouble yourself with."

"I may need a little more convincing"

"Are you attempting to divert my attention from my duties?" He playfully queries, his arms encircling you as he draws you closer. "Do not reckon I'd possess the fortitude to withstand such temptations," Neuvillette replied earnestly with his eyes taking on a dangerously dark intensity while his lips drew pursed.

"I reckon I ought to take a respite for the day?" He mused with a light-hearted tone, the allure of spending time with you far surpassing the paperwork on his desk, but you shake your head disapprovingly.

"I do not want to pull you from work, you will have me later when you return home"

"And pray, my dear, what are your intentions upon my return?" He inquires furthermore with curiosity, his fingers still tenderly tracing the contours of your face.

"Do not tease me"

"My curiosity is quite genuine and I must admit, darling, concentrating on work becomes quite the challenge when the enticing thought of you awaiting me at home lingers," He remarks with a sly grin.

"You have managed well the past month, Monsieur. I believe you can handle a few hours more" You add raking your hands through his hair, trying not to mess it up as you did.

You plant a tender kiss on his cheek, then gracefully distance yourself, prompting his swift and bewildered longing as he reaches out for you. "You should get back to work"

"I suppose I have no choice then" Neuvillette sighed, reclining against the edge of his desk, his eyes sweeping over you as he committed the joyful smile you wore to memory, aware of the pain it caused you to part from him when you yearned for his company.

With a tender touch, Neuvillette gently pulled you closer, guiding you between his legs. He planted a farewell kiss on your cheek, then your forehead, and finally let his lips linger on yours. In that unspoken kiss, a silent promise was made. He vowed to be the husband you deserved - attentive - present and affectionate - from this moment onward.

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!

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