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gabriellessworldd · 2 months

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Never get yo bitch back!

plug!connie x black fem reader 😛😛

wc- 1.7k!

☆ warnings ☆: mdni! mentions of weed nd alcohol, smut 18+, cheating (established relationship w eren), public-ish sex (bathroom unlocked door), pnv, oral (f receive), Connie and reader have wanted each other for a min, first time writing ever don't drag me y'all pls!! 😓 I kinda want to make this have multiple parts but idk yet. I'm very open to criticism nd I hope y'all enjoy!

"Y/nnnnn, cmon you can come outside for one night!" Your best friend Sasha whined through the screen. As much as you protested, deep down you really did want to go out. Especially because Eren wasn't at home, you really wanted to talk to him since y'all haven't been doing so well recently. Petty arguments, sleepless nights, ig posts, and to top it all off he hasn't been to your house in weeks, not giving y'all anytime to have a conversation.

You check the time and see it's 6:00pm that means you got at least 2-3 hours before you would have to leave. "Girl you right, send me the lo. What you wearin?" Sasha set her phone up to show you the outfit she picked out, "Girl that's cute asf!! Ima match you." Sasha helped you pick out an outfit (1 or 2) that resembled hers. "Okay Sash ima finish my hair nd makeup, lmk when yall otw there." "Bye N/n, i gotchu." Sasha hung up and you continued finishing your hair and makeup.

Once you were in your car you looked at the location, realizing that it was at Jean's house, meaning Connie would be there. There was something so attractive about Connie that you didn't know how to explain, he was just, mesmerizing. You knew you would never be able to approach him tho, him nd Eren had been friends forever, and that was a boundary you wouldn't cross. Nothing being crossfaded couldn't fix..

You pull in front of Jean's house and it's packed, you can hear the music from the street. You text Sasha that you pulled up and fix yourself in the car mirror. "We're waiting for you at the front N/n." You read Sasha's text and get out of your car. When you open the door Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and some other girls greet you. You scan the crowd feeling a familiar stare, you turn to your right and see a crossfaded Connie Springer and his homeboys sitting on some sofas in the corner. Connie feels you stare back and smirks. 'This finna be interesting.' You think to yourself.

You make your way to the kitchen to take a couple shots, Sasha gets a blunt from Ony, and y'all head upstairs to light up. When the sesh is over you feel amazing, the music is blasting, you're having a great night, and you're a 10, what could be better? You and the girls head downstairs to go dance and enjoy your night. You and Sasha throw ass like there's no tomorrow and Mikasa is right there to catch it. You laugh and stand up straight when you feel the stare of those familiar hazel eyes. "Ima go grab another drink" you tell Sasha and she drukenly nods.

You walk up to the counter where all of the drinks are, "hey connie" you look at him, and smile. He leans in closer to you "wassup mami, you look good. shit, you smell good too." he smiles at you with all of his pearly white teeth and you notice his silver grillz.(#1, #2, #3) God he's so fine. The way his red eyes are hanging low, the smell of his cologne, and his pretty ass accent, triple homicide.

"Where yo man at tho? Thought he was gon come tonight." Connie's confused as to why Eren isn't at this party trailing you like a lost puppy, unless, y'all wasn't on speaking terms right now. He grinned at the thought "Oh um Ion really-" You stuttered out wondering why he would ruin a good conversation. "Nah you ain gotta answer mami, follow me." He held his hand out with a 'hm' and you quickly took it, needing to feel his touch. He lead you upstairs to the first bathroom he saw, he opened the door, "Tu vas primero hermosa" you go first beautiful. You smiled at the sentence and walked in front of him. His eyes naturally trailed down to the best view there was 'Damn.' was all he thought as he watched you walk and felt himself get harder in his sweats.

"So wassup?" You questioned him, almost like a challenge. You leaned your back against the counter and looked into his eyes. "To be honest ion wanna play no games ma, you know what I want." He leaned towards you, muscular and veiny arms on both sides of you, caging you in.

You could feel the tension grow as both of you realized just how badly you needed the other. "Can I?" Connie asks to kiss you 'and he's respectful omg add that to the list' you think, "Yes, you can." As soon as those three words came out of your mouth, Connie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his other hand quickly found your ass and squeezed, while your hands slid their way into his scruffy buzzcut. The kiss was passionate but it also had a hint of hunger, longing almost, like both of you waited your whole lives for this. Both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and both of you wanted, no, craved more from each other. Connie's large hand found it's way to your throat and he squeezed softly earning a light moan from you, Connie pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"Ay dios mio mami" oh my god Connie whispered. Connie littered bites and hickeys down your neck and exposed cleavage, not caring who would see. He tapped on your thigh, a signal for you to stand so he could remove your pants. He then picked you up and set you back down on the counter, he kissed the insides of your thighs and left a trail of bites. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded your head, he pulled your panties to the side. Connie was in a trance, the way your folds were so puffy, the way they were covered in wetness, connie almost came in his pants at the sight. "Fuck." was all he said before he began kissing and sucking on your lips. He spread them open with his middle and index finger, and could've sworn he saw heaven.

He plunged his fingers inside your wet hole, sucking on your clit while he pumped his fingers in you nice and slow. "Fuck con" you let out a soft moan, it was like music to his ears. He worked his fingers a little faster and curled them up grazing over your spot. "o-oh fuck connie mmhm, right there" He came up, bottom half of his face covered in your sweet juices "You taste so sweet, princesa" and with that he went back down and devoured you like you were his last meal. "a-ah mm con. That feels soo good" you whispered, feather light moans. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon mami let me hear you." he felt you squeeze his tongue and pull his hair, that was enough to let him know. He pushed his fingers back in and started pumping at an insane speed.

"Go ahead ma, let me taste all of you" Your thighs tightened around his head as you felt your high coming. "ah connie 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out louder than before, he curled his fingers again, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed. "Joder, eres tan deliciosa." damn, you're so delicious.

Connie stood up and your hands immediately found the band of his sweats and boxers, in one tug you pulled them both down. "Eager much huh mami? Well I expect you to take it all then." Your eyes widened at the statement but your thoughts were cut short when you heard him speak again. "Turn around for me mami, and don't take your eyes off the mirror." The dominance in his voice made you even wetter. You turned around towards the mirror and he slid off your panties.

He smeared his tip on your folds, collecting your wetness. Without warning he pushed his full length in, starting off with slow strokes. "Fuck mami, you're squeezing me so tight" You arched your back a little more and relaxed. He starts moving quicker and palms the fat of your ass.

Connie props one of your legs on the counter and smacks your ass. "f-fuck connie oh!" hearing you get louder, not caring if anyone could hear you, only riled him up more. He snaked his hand around your throat pulling your head up more so you could see what a mess he made of you. Your lip liner gone, mascara smeared on your damp bottom eyelashes, and a fucked out expression. Connie thought you looked perfect.

"Y-yes mami, take all t-this dick" you hear him stutter his calm demeanor fading away as he fucks into you at an unruly pace. "Ah! Con so good. i-it's so big" He smacks your ass again and continues fucking you.

He pulls out and you pout feeling empty "Calmate princesa." calm down princess He chuckles and flips you on your back then he pulls your hips closer to him. He pushes back into you, not wasting any time. Connie pushes your legs back a little more "Keep 'em right there ma." You hold the back of your knees with your hands, feeling connie's tip hit all the right places, Connie places a heavy hand on your lower stomach and he presses down. "a-ah con please! it feels soo good." You and Connie both feel yourselves about to cum.

"Con 'm about to cum! ah please Connie!" You can feel your thighs starting to shake, "g-go ahead mami, fuck you're so perfect. m-make a mess all over me." Connie rubs on your sensitive bud and keeps fucking you deep. You can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and your vision turns white. "Ah! Connie fuck 'm cumming!" You yell, "f-fuck me too ma." You notice his voice falter and crack at the end, he sounds so angelic. He pulls out and hot, white, ropes coat your tummy.

Connie begins wiping off your stomach and he leans in to kiss you, but he sees something in the corner of his eye, almost like a, figure. "Shit" Connie says blankly, putting his pants back on. You scramble to put your clothes back on and turn to see Eren standing there looking pissed.

"what.. what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

Whew chileeeee. y'all did I at least nibble or what 👀 but lmk if I should make this multiple parts, also give me title ideas!! lmk if y'all want to be tagged in the next parts! love u all nd I hope y'all had as much fun reading as I had writing this! (watch nb read ts #embarrasing 😰)

- with lots of love, gabrielle <3

#connie springer #connie x black reader #plug!connie #aot x reader #aot #black reader #fanfic #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #black tumblr #x black reader #x black y/n #aot smut #connie smut #aot connie #new author #new to writing

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 1 month

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hii, I‘ve already made two requests and you‘ve written them so so beautifully <33 Your work is really amazing and I think I would consider you one of my favorite blogs💞💞 I do have one more idea :)

Reader and Jason are in a relationship, yet they don’t know about his vigilante identity. Reader works the night shift as a barista.

One night, the café gets robbed during reader’s shift, but Jason isn’t there to take care of the robber since he went on patrol only later, meaning the GCPD is the first on the scene.

When Red Hood passes the café and see’s all the police lights, his heart drops. He comes to check up on reader, but they’re so shaken up that jason scares them.

It’s all fluffy in the end, and perhaps Red Hood reveals his identity 😚

Promises

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! ~1.8k words

There was a gun to your face about ten minutes ago. Well, it might have been ten minutes ago, you're not exactly sure how long it was now. The idea of time seemed to phase out when two masked robbers stormed into the little Café you worked at.

Who even robs a coffee shop? You had maybe thirty dollars in the till, everyone uses cards or just taps their phones anyway. That point didn't seem to get across to the men as they waved their pistols in your face and shot off rounds into the air.

You showed them the safe, and a few hundred dollars seemed to calm them down. They took the money, took your wallet and phone. But none of that stopped them from shoving you to the ground as they ran off. You just sat there– dazed, scared, and overwhelmed– until a patrol car from the GCPD and an ambulance rushed to park outside.

No one was hurt, maybe some bruises from being pushed around, but you and the two unfortunate people who wanted coffee half past midnight were more than a little shaken up.

You stumble through the questions the cops ask you and let the paramedics guide you to sit on the back of the ambulance. They drape a shock blanket over your shoulders as you murmur about needing to call your boyfriend.

Someone presses a hot drink into your hands, and you barely register the quiet conversations over this being the fourth small business to get robbed this week. Your eyes only leave the spot in the distance you're fixated on when gasps resonate throughout the air. Your gaze shifts up, and your breath leaves your lungs. Red Hood. Red Hood is stalking towards you like lives depend on it, avoiding the medics and cops that try to talk to him, to get his attention.

You're proud of the fact that you don't flinch when his gloved hand meets your face, carefully tilting your chin up to observe your face. His body is rigid, you can tell something's wrong even through the muddled, shocked state of your mind.

He's crowding over you, a barrier between you and the rest of Gotham. You know he's a vigilante, you know that he helps. But the moment frays the last of your nerves and tears fill your eyes.

You just want to go home. You just want to feel safe. You want your phone back and you want to call your boyfriend and have him make everything okay again.

Red Hod freezes and you can audibly hear his breath hitching. His fingers twitch against your skin before dropping, but he doesn't step away, "Sorry. I'm sorry– Did I– are you hurt?"

That only makes you want to cry harder. He's apologizing to you. This stranger hasn't done anything, but check if you're okay, and you're crying all because he looks big and a little scary. You shake your head, trying to find the words to apologize back, that you don't know why you're crying.

You shift back, even if there's no room to go anywhere. Your heart is pounding and you're scared even if you shouldn't be because there was a gun to your face and you could have died and the man that smells like gunpowder and leather can't fix that.

His head doesn't move, you know his eyes haven't left your face. You don't know why. He doesn't gain anything from lifting his hand to catch the tear that spills down your face. "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, steady and full of promise, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He says your name, says it softly and gently and damn near yearning.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer shakily, blinking back the rest of your tears and trying to figure out why a vigilante knows your name.

His head turns, presumably looking for your phone, "Is it still inside the Café?"

You shake your head, voice heavy with emotion, "It– they stole it."

"They?" He questions, mask tilting back towards you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly, Isn't that why he's here? To get information? To catch them?

His hand finally leaves your face, and you exhale softly in relief, "I'll take care of it."

He wavers in front of you. Another thing that doesn't make sense. You don't get another word out before he's disappeared into the shadows.

Your shoulders slump. You're so tired and so, so drained, and not even the hot drink in your hands is making you feel more in your body.

Someone calls your name. Jason. You stand up on shaky legs, nearly spilling the cup in an attempt to put it down quickly. Jason's here. You don't care why or how, but he's here. He has you wrapped up against his chest and face buried in your hair before the cops can even try to stop him.

He says your name over and over into your hair, and you try to ignore the way your tears stain his shirt. "I've got you, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Promise. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, arms tightening around you.

He feels safe. He smells like– he smells like leather and gunpowder. He's big and warm and a barrier between you and the rest of the world. And it all clicks.

"Let's get you home," he says softly, gently, so careful with a voice full of yearning and love. You recognize it. And you know.

Jason knows your shift ends in forty-seven minutes. But patrol has been slow tonight, and he's going to walk you home even if it wasn't. So why not show up a little early and keep you company? Spoiler seemed eager enough to cover his territory for a few hours, anyway.

He'll go back out after he sees you home safe and watches you fall asleep. Jason's idly trying to decide if you're going to be too tired to shower with him, when the flashing lights outside the Café catch his attention.

He thinks his heart might have stopped. He doesn't even think to call Oracle or text you, he just knows his feet hit the pavement and he's running.

There's only one ambulance, only one cop car. His eyes dart. Where are you. Where are you?

He's barreling towards you as soon as he finds you. He doesn't have a plan. Doesn't need one until he knows you're safe. "Move," he snaps at the medic that tries to stop him, never stopping his path towards you.

His hand is tilting your head up before he even considers the possibility that it's a bad idea, that he's just a stranger in a mask armed to the teeth with knives and guns.

He can't help himself. He needs to touch you, needs to ground himself and make sure you're not hurt. He doesn't manage to get his words out before you're tearing up.

Jason's heart breaks at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He removes his hand, even if every instinct he has goes against it. He thinks he chokes out an apology, but he's too busy looking at every inch of you for injuries.

You shake your head and a piece of his soul shatters. He reaches up to wipe your tears, as if he could do anything else, "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, and wills it to be true, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He wants it to be better. He wants your tears to stop and the tension to leave your body and the anxiety to disappear from your eyes.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer, and he wants to drop to his knees when your voice shakes.

Your phone. He can do that. His eyes dart from you, looking for the familiar phone case, "Is it still inside the Café?"

"It– they stole it," You answer and his focus snaps back to you.

"They?" He questions, doing his best to keep the anger from dripping into his voice, to bite back the threats on his tongue for whoever scared you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly. Robbers. Robbers. Robbers did this. He files that away for once you're home, once he knows you feel safe.

He pulls his hand from your face reluctantly, "I'll take care of it." Jason doesn't want to step away from you. All he really wants is to wrap you up against him and promise everything will be better. But you don't need Red Hood. You need Jason Todd.

He forces himself away from you, moves faster than he should, struggling to shed his armor and mask. He drops his guns to the roof, anything recognizable left in a pile for someone else to deal with.

He's back on the ground and rushing back to you. He says your name. You look up at him and he sees the relief flood your face.

Jason catches you when you step towards him, arms wrapping around you to keep you close.

He whispers promises against your skin, tightening his grip on you. He can feel you crying. It makes concern and anger and the overwhelming desire to protect you twists in his stomach, "Let's get you home."

Jason– Red Hood– talks to the police for you. Insists that there's no more questions for you to answer as he hooks his arm firmly around your waist. He guides you home. You barely process a word he says.

All you can really focus on, as you watch him unlock the apartment door, is that he's Red Hood. How did you miss it? Why didn't you know?

You feel disoriented. But Jason's perfect, exactly what you need in the moment. He doesn't ask you questions, doesn't press or make you move too fast as he helps you change. He nods and gets you water when you say you don't want to shower, that you're not hungry.

He lets you curl against his chest and he kisses the crown of your head when you finally crawl into bed, "I was scared," You admit quietly into his skin.

"They'll never scare you again," he promises. Your stomach swoops. It's the truth. You know it's fact. They'll never scare you again. They'll never scare anyone again. He'll make sure of it.

You fall asleep to his comforting whispers and vows, the feel of his fingers tracing your skin. When you wake up, he's still next to you, still holding you flush against him. Your wallet and phone sit on the nightstand next to your bed. Neither of you mention it as the sun begins to shine on the familiar leather jacket folded over your chair. Neither of you mention it, later, when the news reports that two bodies were found in Gotham Harbor.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader

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eupheme · 18 days

Text

— from eden

old man logan x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 5k

tags: Logan timeline, sorta divergent/fix-it fic, angst, hurt/comfort, everyone is going through it, wound tending, dark thoughts/references to violence/death (aligning with themes in the movie), neurodegenerative disorders (Charles), multiple pov, established relationship, shower sex, oral sex, PiV, feelings

a/n: still on my druid!mutant kick - reader absorbs the sun via photosynthesis and can transfer that energy to grow plants. no features described but small details & a codename are noted in reference to her mutation.

Every day you wish you could do more. More for Charles. More for him. But the harsh sun eats away at you. You weren’t built for this heat.

You were meant for gardens. For Eden.

But you think… as your fingers trail through the earth, your life force flowing down into the greenery below - if something can grow here, in the desert - then maybe, so can hope.

Logan finds you in the garden.

It's generous to call it that. Carved out with old bits of metal, used like a spade. Scraping through dirt, packed and hard from the burning sun. Dust swirling around you - catching under your nails that are as tough as bark.

The only bit of green for a couple miles, at least. Incongruous to the climate - all you can see is desert around you.

It's only you that keeps it alive.

Your hands pass over each stalk and stem. The low thrum that used to come so easily, siphoning your life force to the roots below, comes slowly now.

Used to be able to make things bloom, just by feeling.

A garden had sprouted your first night together. Blooming lush - vines twining around the bookshelves. Wildflowers in your hair. Moss spreading out across the wooden floor, out and into the mansion.

Everyone had known you were in love.

It feels so long ago now. Another lifetime.

Now you can only tend them. You’re at your strongest in the rain, but it’s day twenty-three of sunny, blue skies. No more than a wisp of a cloud on the horizon.

It leaves you wilting. A half-broken lawn chair, dragged to face the packed-dirt road. Watching for him, as your face tips up to the sky. A slowly-recharging battery, one that hasn't been full in years.

But the sun is unforgiving. The tips of your fingers and toes darken - it's too much.

And not enough.

An eye cracks open, with the slam of a car door. There's a limp to his gait - a hand braced against the limo. Something you notice immediately. The way it takes him longer than usual to reach you.

That severe frown softening at the edges, but still holding a weight he's carried for years. A brown bag held out silently, the top crumpled from his fist.

Your fingers brush his, and you know he can see the burn. The mark between his eyebrows deepens.

"Don't push too hard, blossom," Logan rasps, "'Bout time to go in."

It makes your jaw grit, as you bristle.

You want to protest. Ask him "well, what in the hell do you think you're doing/?" He's the last person that should be lecturing you, as he shifts - a crimson glint of red near his collar.

But you don't. He doesn't mean it that way.

It comes out wrong, you've learned that by now. Misplaced anger - seeping into your roots like poison. Loving him so fiercely that it aches, to see him this way.

The Logan you knew and loved changed that day at the mansion.

"I will." You tamp the feelings down, burying them with the rest, "Let me get these started, and I'll be in."

He lingers, for a long moment.

You rip the seed packets open, scattering them across the earth you've prepared. Essentials, fit to feed Charles.

Carrots, beans, tomatoes, onions. Kale and fresh berries.

A packet of wildflowers.

There's a lump, lodged in your throat. You look over your shoulder, just as he disappears inside.

An inhaled breath, as you begin.

He knows you hate it, all the dust. The heat.

Knows you stay, for him.

Logan always was your sun.

"He's bleedin' again." It's muttered out, in greeting.

Caliban's eyes flick towards the back door, "Don't know if I've got enough peroxide to get it out."

Your smile is weary, "We'll figure it out. Always do."

A fine pair the two of you make. Only the mornings and evenings spent together, in your slow rotation of work-Charles-eat-sleep, and always just out of sync.

He tends to the smelting plant. An attempt at keeping things in place, keeping things running. Something simmering on the makeshift stove, as you empty your apron into the sink.

Outside is your domain - days spent with wind-whipped skin. The desert heat surrounding you.

"Could use some potatoes," Caliban offers, without thinking.

Peeling back the husk and silk on an ear of corn, fished out. Peering down at the kernels beneath - still hesitating, even though it's clean.

Your arms cross over your chest, head tilting, "Well, you're welcome to ask him."

It all comes out hushed, even though you know Logan is out with Charles. He gives shoots a reproachful look your way - he's already taken an earful. Doesn't need another from you.

He's been with you both for a year now. A second set of hands, as the seizures worses. You hadn’t wanted to admit you needed help - but Logan had saw right through you.

Charles’s space feels like a tomb.

Each minute you spend in that dome makes you crave another five outside. Too much for you to handle alone - something that still eats away at you.

Never felt like you were doing enough.

Carried the others with you, as he did. The shame of feeling like you should've done more. That you should have been there with them.

Buried beneath the rose bush that bloomed, when you had first told Logan you loved him.

You had thought that he had been. Had spent two years adrift, so certain he had been lost. That adamantium had not been enough to suppress the force of the seizures - that it ripped through the metal and took him from you.

It's why you cling now. Worried. Seeing how each day changes him, like it does you.

It's why you grow the vegetables for them. Even then, it's not enough. The suppressants they released still worked its way into the water and soil. You'd already ingested enough food to have it affect you.

Used to eat for fun, for pleasure. Haven't had a bite in two years now. Haven't needed to, haven't wanted to. Looking to the sun instead, even if it burns.

Now, you're just maintaining. Trying not to worsen, trying your best to keep them afloat, even if it costs you.

"Sorry." You mutter.

Easing into the routine of ladling out bowls. Chunks of half-stale bread, from the last time he baked. Hadn't harvested as much wheat this season as you would have liked. Pests chewing up a portion before you noticed.

The drought makes you hazy. Running on fumes for a while now. Same as all the rest.

Two bowls set on a plastic tray. A glass of tepid water in a chipped mason jar tucked in the crook of your arm. Fingers swirling in the liquid to cool them, before you're tilting it back - taking a swallow. Just managing to ease your parched throat.

"How is he?" You ask.

Caliban's eyes are slow to meet yours. He looks at you like he knows something you don't. Few secrets between you, except ones like these that he keeps deep. It always sends a twist in your belly.

Curling vines, weaving between your ribs.

"Logan or Charles, dearest?"

"Both." You sigh, "Either."

“Logan is… well. You saw him.” Caliban mutters. His nose twitches. A breath - as if he means to say something.

He falls silent instead, pivoting, “And Charles still thinks he's in Macbeth."

It makes your heart lurch, how so kind and sound a mind had changed. Not his fault and it only makes you love him more, after everything.

“Been asking about someone named Erik lately, too.”

You and Logan had agreed. It was better that Charles didn’t know, if he didn’t have to. That the two of you would bear it - shielding him like he had shielded so many for years.

But it never made the memories any easier.

His head inclines towards the trays, "You want me to take those out?"

Caliban knows you hate it.

You know the sun is still setting, sitting golden on the horizon.

A shake of your head, as the tray tucks under your arm.

“Thanks, Cal. I've got it."

The music comes first - 60s-era jazz, floating through the opened door. Voices come after, as you step into the shadows.

“-sorrow words, the grief that does not speak," Charles's reciting pitches louder, as his chair wheels in front of you, "Knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break-”

Logan stalks after, reaching for the controls.

"Enough."

"Thrice the brinded cat-"

The tray clatters on the top of an old desk. You step in front of them, arms spread wide, "Charles."

The chair halts, going still.

Something scrapes at your brain, when his hazy eyes meet yours. Fingers sifting through files. A dealer skillful hands, l shuffling through cards - snapping them back into place.

Plucking old memories from you like weeds. Dragging them to the surface, long buried.

He doesn’t mean to.

Doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

Your breath coming in a ragged gasp, eyes meeting Logan's. He doesn't need Charles powers to know what you're thinking.

Afraid that he'll see. What he’ll remember.

"Come on." Logan is hoisting him out of his chair. A grunt as he struggles, near dead-weight in his arms, “Enough poking around.”

Depositing Charles in his hospital bed, the last golden rays of sun streaking across the worn blankets. Logan just starts to move away, when a hand fists in his dark tie, dragging him close.

"You're not listening to me. No one listens to me." The words almost seem lucid, with how sharp his eyes suddenly shine, "Liberty, Logan. They're waiting for you. Eden-“

"No one is waiting for me." It's barked out.

Uneasy, tipping towards harsh.

Logan's patience has always ran thinner than a knife’s blade. It's love that keeps him here, you know that as well as you know your own name.

You have to step between them to break the connection. Hand wrapping around Charles' wrists - soothing, easing them down into his lap - as Logan fishes a bottle out of his pocket.

Slipping a needle into his arm. It's fluid, how you move together. Easier to help him together, then when you're alone.

It soothes the seizures. Thoughts slipping between his fingers, as he settles. The anger with it, as you bring dinner over to them. Your hand extended to take the pills that Logan shakes from a bottle.

"Take these, Professor." You coax, handing over a stained mug from the attached tray.

The chalky pills disappear, with the tilt of his head and a swallow of weak tea. Only then does it feel like you breathe. Letting your fingers drift across the makeshift herb garden he has sitting on the desk, something you tend together.

Eyes closing, as you concentrate. Pink petals blooming, plucked from the stem, and placed in Charles' open palm.

Logan's gaze a heavy weight - too tired from the day - you could already hear it in his voice. In the slow shift of his weight, as he eats.

"Only one?" The wizened fingers close like a cage around the flower, "You’ll have to work harder, Crescere."

The name is one that you haven't heard in years. It ricochets through you like a bullet, threatening to rip you open. You must show it in your face - a hand reaches to smooth down your back.

It soothes you, until an edge creeps into Charles's voice.

"If you cannot do more, how will you ever survive without soil?"

Logan goes stiff at the words. Breaking contact as if he'd been burned. A rough tilt of his head, as he pushes himself up.

“I’ll be inside.” It’s gritted out, through clenched teeth.

Leaving you alone, perched on the edge of Charles’s bed.

His mood already shifting, as it often did. The anger and confusion flaring. Melding with the medication that slows his tongue, dulls his thoughts.

“Crescere,” His eyes fix on you, while you watch the door creak shut. The moonlight has just started to stream in now, and it's just dark enough to imagine a breeze, “Have I told you about Eden?”

You tuck him in. The worn quilt tugged up high against his chest. A fingers smooth down to wrap in his - his hands frail with age, but his grip is still strong.

Tears prick your eyes, but you smile - your hand gently squeezing.

“Tell me again.”

His fingers fumble with the buttons. The black tie tugged loose, hanging against his chest. A hiss of breath, as sore shoulders roll. The dress shirt caught against his bicep, the sleeves still pushed up around his elbows.

There’s a hand against his shoulder. Your fingers slipping beneath the fabric, easing it down his arms.

“You gonna stop running from me?”

It’s soft, in the room that you share. A far cry from the mansion - all cozy, stained wood. Home.

Here, it’s sheet metal. Car batteries running a broken coffee maker, blankets stained with sweat. An industrial fan, slowly spinning where it’s mounted into the wall.

Wasn’t trying to run.

Just couldn’t shoulder your hurt, knowing he caused it himself. Knows that the heat eats away at you. Has watched how you struggle, though you hide it so well.

And the open seas - the sun and the salt water - would it be enough? Could you ever be happy, away in a place like that?

You’ve told him all you need is him. But pretty thing like you should be somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

Knew he was too old for you, even back at the mansion - and that was when his hair was just starting to grey at the temples.

Now, he wishes he could convince you to go. Even if he couldn’t live without you.

But he knows your answer. That set of your jaw. Rooting you in place, unmoving.

It flickers in you here, as your arms wrap around him. Nose buried against the nape of his neck, as he exhales a breath that he’s held all day.

His muscles going lax as he leans into your embrace - letting you move him. Touch gentle as you guide him towards the bathroom. Fitting between spread thighs as he leans against the cracked counter, your fingers tracing the red-stained rips on the white tank beneath.

A cloth, wrapped tightly around his fist.

“Running to you,” Logan husks, “Just lost my way.”

You soften before his eyes.

Unwinding the wrappings to check the wound across his palm. Your lips pressed against scar tissue. Moving to backs of his knuckles, between the angry red slits.

Something in his chest lurches. Calming the beast, as his palm cups your cheek. Letting you lead him into the old ceramic tub, even though the space was narrow.

Lets you strip him down, knowing your eyes flicker over each scar. Looking for ones you missed, though you know them all.

Already knows what you’re going to say, when your gaze catches on the still-healing wound - a bullet beneath his collarbone. In his chest, through his bicep.

“Can’t keep taking hits, baby.” You fingers trace just shy of the wounds. Blood flaking, where he hadn’t washed well enough - two days spent in a shitty motel, each one thinking of you.

Need to shield yourself. Pick your battles.

He’s heard it all before.

Tried to earlier - wanted to gut the Alkali-Transigen fucker who had climbed into his limo. He is trying, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

All he got was a business card burning a hole in his pocket. A lie of omission like a lead weight in his belly.

Another tucked against his chest - the bullet nestled in the pocket of his shirt. Resting against his heart while he drives. Hidden, when he returns home.

It’s insurance - but it would still crush you to find it.

“I’ll ease up when you do.” He counters, though his voice softens, “Pushing too hard, sweetheart. We could stand to eat less, if you need a break.”

You sigh, as you lean into him. Face muffled against his chest, and he only just catches the words.

“When I used to imagine playing house with you,” You breathe, “I always thought it would be a little different.”

It makes his heart jolt.

Something tearing inside him, as his mouth presses against yours. A hand searching to turn the handle - the water stale. A weak spray that only reaches room temperature.

But it’s enough.

You wash the red from him. Swirling down the drain as you coat the washcloth with a sliver of soap. Careful in your movements, as your hair dampens.

As his hands catch at your hips, looking for an anchor.

A little huff when you fingers twirl - when he has to let go, to turn around. Soaping up his back, fingers raking through his hair.

The stress of the day sluices from him. Melts away as your lips press against his back, trailing across his shoulders. Nails tracing against his abdomen, as he leans into your touch.

It’s always been softer than he deserved.

And when your hand drifts lower, swirling soap against the dark trail of hair that leads down, he guides your hand the rest of the way.

A throb, at the soft inhale of your breath. Fingers that close around him, coaxing him to full hardness. His own scrape against the tile, as he props himself up.

Eyes half-lidded, as you nuzzle against his scars. Fist working him from root to tip - he can’t resist bucking into your touch.

His own hand wandering. Hesitant.

Afraid he won’t find you the same.

Reaching behind him, feeling the stretch of healing muscle and sinew as he cups the curve of your ass. A held breath loosened, when he hears the needy sound you make, when his fingers slip to trace between.

Teasing, drifting down to where you’re slick. Honeyed.

Always for him. Only for him.

His eyes fully shut now, as his fingers work inside you. Feeling the clench, the way your hand stutters.

Your breathing turning harsh, panting. His name whined out as your hand dips to cup him - the pressure coiling low in his belly. Hips nudging against his as he pets at your clit, smearing your skin with your need.

Turning, when he isn’t able to take it any longer. Always would be strong enough to do this - to hitch your thigh around his hip.

Lifting you enough to rub his flushed cock against your folds. Your nails biting red marks into his shoulders as he lines himself up-

The water cuts off.

The evenings rations depleted.

Your laugh is more of a whine than anything, but it’s still a sound he treasures.

His own lips curving, and it feels like the first time in days.

The words rasps out, coated with need.

“Let me take you to bed, honey.”

His skin is still damp when he lays you down.

Nestling you against the pillows - ignoring your soft protests of needing to take care of him, as he seeks out the honey between your thigh. Hands tracing up your leg, calf to knee. Up against smooth skin, until he can hitch one over his shoulder.

Letting him bury himself deeper. Tonguing at your clit. Down to dip inside you, a rough groan against your skin as his hips rut into the mattress.

He had you close already. You always unfurled for him, and that hadn’t lessened with his age. Automatic, in the way his fingers fit inside you, finding the spot that has your back arching as you cry out.

Stroking against it again and again, a groan caught in his throat as your fingers twist into his hair and tug.

Logan’s name a soft cry as he tastes you sweeten against his tongue. The tight pulse around his fingers, echoing where his lips shift to suck against your clit.

It’s only when you reach for his wrist does he stop, content to spent the night right here if you’d let him - make up for the time spent away.

Only then does he relent. His arm stretching out behind the pillows as he finally lays back, the tug of a smile as he watches you.

There’s a sweetness about you - all limp-limbed as your thigh lifts across his waist. Straddling him, as you lean - tugging supplies out of the end table.

Squirming, as his head lifts - unable to help mouthing at your breasts. A heady throb down low when he can feel your heart kick up a notch.

Always doing things out of order.

Each shift of your hips rubs your pussy against his cock. Slick and wet and warm, and he catches the curve of your lips.

The slow rhythm, as you pack padding against his wounds. Affixing tape to his skin, a kiss placed against one - as if it would help them heal faster.

His look heated, and he knows you feel it too. The hitch of your hips. The pressure when you grind down - your eyes blown dark when you look at him from beneath your lashes.

He can give you what you need.

A grunt, as a hand grasps at your hips. The loose supplies slipping from his abdomen, as he coaxes you into your knees.

His other hand wrapping around the base of his cock, tilting his hard length up to rest against your belly.

“Need you.” It’s gritted out.

On another day he might have swallowed it down. Let you come to him.

But right now, he can’t take any more teasing, wrapped in your soft touch. He’s already resisting the urge to drive into you, as you angle him against your opening.

The slightest pressure, as you start to give around him - opening up. And when you finally sink down flush against him, he forgets himself.

It’s now and it’s six years ago - all those evenings spent, entwined.

Fitting together, watching the way your brow still pinches as your body makes room to take him - the stretch as your hands curl into fists against his chest.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” It slips from him, when your hips fully meet his.

It only makes you squeeze more tightly around him, his breath caught in a low rumble in his chest.

Your own admission, as you dip down to kiss him, “Missed you more.”

Finding himself transfixed, in spite of the weariness. The ache in his bones that are now a part of him are forgotten in the way you watch him.

Eyes half-lidded, as you find your balance. Starting a slow grind of your hips, a look thrown his way when you feel his muscles string tight beneath you.

The lightest pressure of your palms against his chest, careful of his wounds.

“Want to make you feel good.” It’s a command, tinged with permission. It’s woven with love, and the thought of taking matters into his own hands ebbs.

“Always do, sweetheart,” Logan husks, “Every fucking time.”

Letting himself settle back against the mattress. Losing himself in the tight grip of your pussy. Your soft curves, as his hands wander.

Squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, urging you to ride him harder. Slipping up to tease at your tits, an upward flex of his hips when you cry out his name.

You once told him that you wanted him the first moment you met him. Now, he wishes he had met you sooner.

A year. A day. Even a minute.

The thought pulses in his chest, in time with his heart. Fingers skating over skin as you ride him. A flash of white when he thumbs against your clit, giving you something to grind against.

You’re molten around him. Soft and sweet and it’s all he can do to match the way you bounce on his cock. Feet planting against the bed to help can meet you, urging himself just that little bit deeper.

Melting just a little bit further, when you can’t help but lean down - needing his mouth against yours.

Flattening yourself against his chest, as your rhythm goes needy. Sloppy grinds instead of the sharp slap, taking him deep and keeping him there.

His thumb swirls, and your ragged moan breaks the kiss. Head dipping as you lean back - hips chasing your pleasure, rocking into his familiar touch.

Can smell how much you need it. How you drip around his cock, the coarse hairs matted with your desire.

Teeth clenching, and it only makes him fuck to harder into you, to loosen your tongue.

“Logan, fuck-” It’s whimpered, in that pretty tone that he loves, “Think I’m gonna come-”

The leash he grasps onto slipping between his fingers. A low heat in his belly burning brighter, a pressure ticking down with each slap of his hips.

“Know you’re close. Let go, baby. So fucking good for me-”

Something rasped out, as you flutter around his cock. Taking him deep, spearing him into your belly.

“Fuck, I can feel you coming on my cock.” It comes out ragged, his breath catching, “Gonna make me come, too-”

Your gaze is dark. Hands pressing harder against his chest as you find yourself again, riding him harder. Panting through it, as it tips towards too much - your orgasm still burning brightly.

He's surrounded by you, and he only wants more. Fingers pinching into your hips, driving himself into you.

“Wanna make you come,” You breathe, “Want to feel you tomorrow-”

It’s enough that he forgets himself. A hands tight against your hip, a sharp tug that pulls you flush. The other curls around the back of your neck as he flips you beneath him.

Your gasping laugh pairs with his snarl. An arm hooking under your knee - pushing, opening you up as he holds you in place.

Watching how your eyes glaze. Following the tug of your fingers, bringing his mouth down to yours. Your pulse thundering beneath his thumb, as his tongue licks into your mouth.

He tastes like you, as his eyes slip shut. You linger on his lips, smeared across his beard. A ragged moan as your hips lift to meet the sharp smack-smack-smack of his hips, and then his vision is going hazy.

Your name snarled out, twining with soft sentiments. Hilting himself just as the pressure reaches its peak, his cock throbbing as he spills with a growl inside you.

The tension easing with each flex of his hips, fucking himself empty into your warmth. Into your embrace, your arms wrapping around and keeping him close. The scruff of his beard scrapes your cheek, but you only hitch a thigh around his hips - nudging him deeper.

Logan would stay here forever, buried in you, if he could. It slips from him, then - rasped low into your ear.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He should tell you more often. Would tell you every day, if not for the guilt that twists in his guts each time you say it back.

But tonight, he can only lean into it. The soft whisper, as your lips drag against his cheek. You say it just like you used to. It still comes just as easily.

“I love you too, Logan.”

And when his breathing settles and his eyes open - his chest catches.

You're adorned with your devotion - hair dotted with alyssum. Forget-me-nots and primrose dappled across your shoulders, yarrow and heather blooming around your curves.

Had learned the names of them, long ago. They come back, as his fingers trace over each bloom.

You’re beautiful.

But you always have been.

Prettiest goddamn thing he’s ever seen.

He bites harder, when he’s wounded.

No more than a cornered animal. But the anger - it takes a hold on him. Leaving him to soften, when there’s a hand he knows.

Making words slip from him that he’d tuck inside, on a different day.

“I do it for you, blossom.” It comes out quiet, in the darkened room, “You know that right?”

You shift against his shoulder. Head cradled against his chest, ear pressed to his heart.

“We do it for Charles,” You breathe, half-asleep. Fingers splaying across his sternum, tracing against the dark whorls of hair.

His own brush over petals. Used to help pluck them from you, after stolen moments during missions. Would love the way your face screwed up - a soft veil of embarrassment washing over you. His own lips pulled in a smug smile, as he had tucked one behind you ear.

Logan huffs, the sound low. Almost a laugh.

“I keep going for you.”

His heart would keep beating for a long time, but he thinks it would stop if yours did.

You press yourself tighter against him. It’s mumbled against his skin, “Keep going for you, too.”

There’s salt against his skin, tears you can’t afford to shed. Silent, as the stars creep higher in the sky above you.

Should be out driving, right now. Can’t bring himself to leave.

So he holds you, until your breathing slows. Until the tension eases once again, sleep taking you.

You never were afraid of him. Only for him.

Never hesitated to crawl into bed beside him, even with his nightmares. Can still remember your insisting.

Clip the stem of the flower, and the bloom will fade. Skewer it though, and it will grow around it - oozing golden ichor until it heals.

It's supposed to be a comfort.

But Logan doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s afraid that he plucked you from the earth, long ago.

You just haven’t realized it yet.

Logan finds you in the garden.

Charles is out with you today. Tucked beneath the afternoon shadows of the smelting plant. He would laugh - does laugh - at your excuse of a garden. It pales in comparison to the mansion. The old ivy that crawled up the walls, across the sprawling grounds.

You laugh with him, because - what else is there to be done?

The sound dies, as the limo comes back early. A hand shades your eyes, as he steps out.

Still weary, though not as much as yesterday. Worry set in the lines around his eyes the grit of his jaw.

The reason revealed, when he steps to the side. A girl, stumbling out of the back seat of the limo.

Her eyes are feral, and there’s something so familiar about her that it steals your breath.

“Crescere.” Charles breathes - more lucid than you’ve seen him in days, “That is Laura. She’s the mutant I told you about. The one we have to help get to Eden.”

And for a moment, he’s the Charles he was a decade ago. The one you would have followed to the end.

Something blooms in your chest, at the sight of the girl.

The mutant, when there hasn’t been a new one in so long. A tight knot unfurling inside you, and it feels like a new beginning.

It feels like hope.

and then they all left to find Eden together and nothing bad ever happened again! 😌💖 I'm heading back to Trouble Will Find Me and Come On And Show Me after this, just was struck with this idea and wanted to explore it! thanks so much for reading!!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #old man logan

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awxcoffeexno · 1 month

Text

the patient - part 2

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

someone new

<< part 1 | series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 3 >>

summary: logan is an awful jerk and so you seek out happiness elsewhere.

content: you'll learn a little more about reader's powers + bobby and storm show up!

warnings: all mentions of jean are actually referring to the phoenix who is extremely mentally unstable, logan mandhandles the reader quite this time as well but never hurts her, the relationship portrayed is horribly toxic.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: logan's a giant dick in this one but i promise it gets better next part on.

you are finishing up bedazzling sophie's dress for the annual xavier's school for gifted youngsters college prom when bobby approaches you with a small sheepish smile, pulling his sleeves over his hands nervously.

"hi," he smiles, crouching down next to you and giving your handiwork a once over. his cool air is pleasant after hours of labouring over this dress that you volunteered to fix.

"hi, bobby," you smile back, a small blush creeping onto your cheeks as you read his mind.

you'd already been expecting him to come, of course – it's been a few days since bobby has been meaning to ask you but now that he's here, he's the first of all the boys who have asked you to prom that you're actually potentially attracted to. only he hasn't quite asked yet.

"so... i was thinking..." he starts and you bite your lip, seeing the images of the two of you dancing together spinning in his mind. he's in a simple tux and you're in a glittering blue dress – it reminds you of cinderella.

he opens his mouth to continue but you cut him off.

"i don't have blue fabric!"

"what?" he asks, puzzled.

"you want to ask me to the prom!" you rush out, sitting up to explain. "but i don't have blue fabric. and the store bought cheap stuff makes me itchy. and so–"

bobby's a smart guy and he catches on quickly. a warm smile spreads across his face and he sits down properly, criss crossing his legs.

"i thought the professor told you not to read our minds without permission."

you redden, picking on your nails. his closeness is nice, comfortable.

"yes but... i can't help it sometimes."

"it's okay, i don't mind." he says, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. "and i don't mind if your dress isn't blue either."

you look up at him and really, you should be immensely flattered. you should be jumping up and down with joy, having gained the affections of one the most popular students at the college, the whole mansion, really.

you should be so grateful that someone wants you the way bobby does, true and pure. bobby, johnny, travis and mikey, all the boys who have already asked you to prom. but of course, your stupid stupid heart is elsewhere with a very much unavailable man.

so you say simply, "i can't go to the prom with you, bobby."

he tries to protest but you quickly place your hand on his cheek and his eyes flutter shut, succumbing to your powers.

he takes your hands and kisses your knuckles softly. "you deserve better," he says, knocking the wind out of your lungs before standing up and walking away.

is your desperation for logan so fucking obvious? none of the other boys said anything– god, you must look absolutely pathetic to anyone who cares to notice.

and then a vision envelopes you, logan and you in yet another fight. what about, you cannot tell. logan is impossible to read sometimes.

you quickly stand up and decide to go find him before it turns nastier than it need be. you've learned that the best course of action is always to nip these things in the bud.

you find him in the kitchen, hunched over a plate of chicken. storm has some bacon on the stove, the sizzling filling the air around you. your stomach growls at the smell. slipping into the stool beside logan, you knock your shoulder against his with a smile.

"hey, sweetheart." he smiles the lopsided smile you love so much, making your heart skip a beat.

"hi. can i have some of that?" you ask, gesturing at his plate.

"'course y'can." he says, quickly dragging your stool closer and bringing a forkful to your mouth. you take the bite, tummy filling with butterflies. for a moment, you all but forget about your vision.

"oh, hey," storm greets you as she walks back in to check on her bacon. "did you say yes to bobby? honestly, he's such a good kid, he'd be great for you!"

"hmm?" logan inquires, wanting context.

"bobby said he'd ask her to the prom." storm explains, waving her fork about. "it's her... what, fourth promposal?"

"four, huh?" logan mutters, sitting up straighter and you're flattered at the irritation in his tone before you realise why you'd gotten that vision in the common room.

shit.

"four and you didn't once say yes?" he growls, low enough only for your ears.

"well, you don't know i said no to bobby." you mumble defensively.

"give me a fucking break. look at your face. you said no."

storm looks between you both and to satiate her curiosity, you quickly explain about the blue dress fabric and why you had to say no and logan slams his fork down on the table. the sharp sound makes you both jump.

"what–," you start, really not having expected him to create a scene in a common area but you're proven wrong because he's grabbing your arm and hauling you out to the corridor and up the stairs, two at a time, ignoring your protests.

he shoves you into his room and shuts the door behind himself, rubbing his hand down his face in anger.

"why do you care if i said no?!" you hiss at him, hurt that he isn't happy.

he should be happy! you're saving yourself for his promposal. teachers and students go together all the time considering how many of the teachers are so young and how many students much older. he isn't even a teacher anyway.

"why do i care?" he repeats, disbelief lacing his voice. "why do i care?!"

his tone makes you step back.

"why do i care?!" he thunders again, stepping closer.

his voice drops dangerously low. "i need you to get one thing clear in your head." his fingers wrap around your jaw and he can see your eyes glaze over in an attempt to push your emotions back. "i ain't asking you to the prom. i was never gonna ask you to the prom. if jean is feeling up to it, i'm takin' her. else i ain't goin' at all. do you understand?"

you exhale evenly, pissing him off further. he hates it when you don't fight back and you wonder if he enjoys this back and forth between you two. you wonder if enjoys belittling you.

when you don't respond, he hisses, "nod if you understand."

you nod finally and he lets go of your jaw, shaking his head and sitting down on his bed. he puts his head in his hands and groans in exhaustion.

"fuck me, rejecting four kids your age hoping an old fuck like me's gonna ask you out." he mutters, twisting the knife in your heart further.

"don't pretend you don't want to ask me only because of my age." you finally speak, voice laced with venom. "don't condescend to me like that."

"nah, you're right," he snarls, "ain't askin' you 'cause you're fucking obsessed with me. fuckin' pathetic."

you let out an involuntary gasp as his words further sting your heart. your reaction makes his eyes snap up to you and he almost looks like he wants to take it all back. but you step back, knowing when to admit defeat and refusing to take any more hurt from him. he starts to stand up but you raise your hand, stopping him.

"don't worry, logan." you whisper, voice threatening to break. "got the message."

you walk out of his room and don't let yourself cry a single tear until you've found bobby, told him that, actually yes, you'd love to go to prom with him, found lara and offered her a new dress in exchange for the blue fabric from bobby's thoughts, and gotten back to your room.

only then do you allow yourself the first tear. and then you cry and cry and cry yourself to sleep.

okay, i promise the next part is lighter and wayyyy cuter!! poor lil reader.

love, d <3

<< part 1 part 3 >>

taglist: @beeingaflower, @uhnanix, @kokomixxk, @nighwingsdiscordkitten

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine angst #logan howlett angst #logan howlett xmen #xmen #xmen fanfiction

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tbaluver · 2 months

Note

hiii, can i please req some silent treatment scenario with rafayel?? fem!reader is the one doing the silent treatment to him. just really frustrated rn that he didnt came home in the latest banner :/

thank you.

Silent Treatment- Rafayel x Reader- Love And DeepSpace

a/n: im so sorry to hear that anonnie ( ｡ • ᴖ • ｡) he also did not come home either but you still have so much time !! i hope you'll be able to get him soon <3 i hope this scenario was okay and i hope you'll enjoy!!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy! <3

genre: small angst ? fluff fluff, might be ooc

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A minor argument lead to a small understanding resulting you into giving Rafayel the silent treatment. He wouldn't take it seriously at first, cracking joke after joke or do anything to see if he can get a reaction out of you. He wouldn't shut his mouth till it'll get you to speak. It isn't until you don't react, ignoring his best attempts at getting your attention that grew his concern. You'll notice when he leaves your home finally understanding that you needed space.

The next morning, you awoke to find the bed empty and your phone displaying a single notification, a stark contrast to the usual amount of messages from your boyfriend. His absence felt unusual, given how clingy and needy he often is. It wasn't good to sleep at night knowing you both didn't fix things. A pang of guilt tugged at your heart, making you wonder if you had gone too far and hurt his feelings more than you intended.

You checked your phone to see that Thomas texted you that Rafayel had an emergency at his home studio and needed you immediately. Although you were both in an intimate relationship, you were still hired as his bodyguard.

Rushing to Rafayel's home studio, you called out his name, but the silence that greeted you only heightened your concern. As you made your way down the familiar corridors, you noticed the lighting had shifted to a warm, inviting glow. Continuing towards his usual workspace, you were met with the unexpected sight of his paintings displayed all around.

As you approached one of the paintings, you recognized each piece was a depiction of moments you had shared together—scenes from your dates and times spent together. As you continued through the room, you saw more paintings that evoked vivid memories, each one capturing a cherished moments from your past.

One painting depicted a particularly memory, the ceremonial vow in the hospital garden where you vowed never to make him wait. The artwork, painted from a third-person perspective, showed the two of you sitting by the fountain. In the painting, a blue fish was was floating at the palm of his hand, capturing the serene and intimate moment you shared.

Another painting, painted in third perspective, where you were both at the beach watching the fireworks.

And another painting at the arcade where he tried to surprise you with the plushie but you had already gotten it. In the painting, you're shown holding the artist chick plushie with your phone in the other hand. You recalled the conversation you had from that day; "What do you want?"

"The rest of my life with you."

As you continued to explore the room filled with paintings of your shared memories, you noticed one that seemed out of place. It depicted a mermaid—no, a Lemurian, you guessed—emerging from the ocean and gazing up at the moon.

Rafayel quietly approached behind you and spoke softly, "I'm sorry for lying but I really wanted you to come over. I'm really sorry for upsetting you. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You turned to him, curious, and asked, "What's this painting about?" Your question made his ears perk up. He hasn't heard you for almost a whole day. You pointed to the Lemurian floating in the sea, looking up at the moon.

"It's about a Lemurian who looks to the moon for guidance," Rafayel explained, "Without the moonlight, it would be lost in the darkest depths of the sea.. I don't know what I'd do without you." His eyes were filled with a desperate sadness as he spoke the last line softy. He took one of your hands in his, gently rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. As he did, his fair fell forward, gently framing his face as he gaze down at your intertwined hands.

Ignoring him had become nearly impossible. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his warmth envelop you. As you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, you could sense the tender connection between you.

He responded by pulling you closer, his arms encircling your waist with a comforting embrace. His touch was soft yet reassuring as he placed a delicate kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, he tilted his head to meet your gaze. He then closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss signifying his longing for you, each touch conveying everything words could not.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel lads #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deepspace mc #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace imagines #rafayel headcanons #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace headcanons

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thesummerpetrichor · 4 months

Text

𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾:

𝒪𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Its been five months since you started sleeping together, and you're having second thoughts about your "relationship" with Javier. But what does it matter to him? he hasn't even kissed you yet. 🍒 Continuation of “Off to the Races” and “Your Face is Shameless” but can be read alone.

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, thicc age gap [Javi is in his 40s reader is in her early 20s], mentions of anxiety, major angst, situationship, guilt, unrequited love, self loathing, kissing [they did it!], Javier is emotionally unavailable, petnames, major dom/sub dynamic [dd/lg ish vibes], mean!Javi then soft!dom!Javi, degradation, dumbification, minor objectification, major size kink [Javi is bigger than and can lift reader], praise kink [finally some good girl action], daddy kink, choking, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral [f receiving], unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if i missed anything 🫶

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello!! I'm back!! thought it would be fitting to revisit these two post hiatus. Sorry in advance for the emotional torture that is about to ensue, but I couldn't help myself. Big thank you to @pixelsandothernonsense for being a big supporter of these two and fuelling their return on the blog time and time again. Lotsa plot, lotsa porn– as always. Hope you enjoy, nasties. Mwah

🍒Off to the races 🍒Your face is shameless 🍒Masterlist

You wanted it to be easy but it’s difficult. You wanted it to be over, but it was not.

While Colombia seemed to be all fun and games at first sight, the longer you remained stuck in the American embassy’s city centre building the more you longed for home.

Your research was hitting a roadblock, and things were hard. Funding was running out, and your professors were running away. Better jobs, better prospects. But your degree was the least cause for your troubles.

You were smart. You were controlled. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you got yourself involved with Javier Peña. It seemed fun at the moment- fooling around, messing with a man double your age and four times more qualified. Trying to wrangle his true intentions out from under his furrowed brow and frown.

Looking back you felt stupid. Embarrassed. A little ashamed of what you had become. How you let him treat you.

He used you like a walking sex doll. Didn’t give you one look afterwards. Maybe a pat on the back but somehow that was more insulting. He had never kissed you. And there you were, fixing your makeup in the office bathroom after an evening under his desk had ruined it.

It had been five months since the first time he'd bent you over his desk but you were only half way through your trip. Five more months seemed too long to bear. It made you sick.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and sleepy and your clothes weren’t crisp as usual. You felt a little bit like the tissue you’d just dabbed against your cheek. A little flimsy and a little dirty. A little used, perhaps.

It felt a little worse knowing it was all your doing. You weren’t expecting a man like Javier to change. Objectively, it wasn’t possible. But you still asked for more. For him to use and then forget about you. You wanted to leave. You wished he’d never seen this side of you. Frankly you wished you hadn’t either.

Because you were smart and funny and interesting and could talk about all sorts of things. You liked music and books and movies and trying new food. But he’d never seen you that way. He never would.

You hadn’t spoken to him once. Not about anything that wasn’t strictly utilitarian. Especially not after he started fucking you. It was far too awkward and far too intimate.

For him.

Your feelings flip flopped every day, from the casualty of the affair seeming rather appealing, to it making your chest ache. And yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself, unable to understand not only what this thing you had going on with Agent Peña was, but why you couldn't seem to stop.

Five months camping out in the office and you hadn’t missed a single day. No matter how bad the hurt in your chest you rolled out of bed and reminded yourself of why you were where you were. It worked. It hurt, but it worked.

But after five months it seemed like getting out of bed was suddenly impossible one morning and you thought it best to stay home. You got a few calls. One from Fiestl and Van Ness. Connie Murphy sent Steve over with soup when she heard you weren’t feeling well.

No news from Javi Peña.

You slept most of the day. With your computer shut and materials put away. You didn’t want to think about it. You fixed yourself dinner- instant noodles, and headed to bed once again.

You thought it was temporary but the excruciating pain only lingered and carried you on to another day confined to the four walls of your bedroom.

It was a bad idea- ignoring your work for as long as you did. You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to put it on the back burner- considering the neurosis surrounding your work, the fact you took a two day break was impressive. It wasn’t long before your anxiety was eating away at you, an impending deadline hanging over your head and reminding you the world didn't care about your little pity party.

Stupid as it was, you found yourself crossing the street at the witching hour of 23:00- clad in the soft cotton dress you forced yourself into earlier that evening. The friday night had persuaded everyone out of the office, and you weren’t surprised when you found the top floor of the embassy building cold and empty.

You were glad, and perhaps it was the only way you could stomach being there– alone.

Your desk was exactly how you’d left it a couple of days ago- your books piled in one corner, papers thrown all over the place. It was disorganised and untidy– very unlike you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you began to sort things out, a feeling of complete exhaustion and defeat threatening to force you into your office chair. You glanced over at Javier’s office, signs he was out for the week prompting the slight relaxation of your shoulders.

When you finally sat down to get to work, your eyes couldn't help but flutter shut every few moments, the screen of your computer zoning in and out of your vision every now and then. The words seemed to escape you, four lines on your document all you could manage before you were pressing your forehead against the wood of your desk.

After spending the past two days sleeping somehow all you wanted to do was climb right back into bed.

Music, surely that would help! Or at least you thought, to no avail, a whole album played once, yet you could only manage another paragraph. Turns out burnout was real.. and it had decided now was the best time to get you. But you weren’t ready to pack up and banish yourself to your studio apartment just yet. So you upped the volume, and sat up just a little bit straighter in your chair, and got back to work.

Something about the loneliness of working in that drab, white, characterless office was especially miserable. So miserable in fact it was almost comforting, it was so miserable it was funny. It wasn't long before you were sitting completely straight in that sad, uncomfortable office chair, laughing at yourself with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. You were stupid, and acted silly, and had all these big feelings, but what did it matter? It was diabolical; the capacity Javier had for ruining your life, but soon enough you’d be out of here and one day you’d probably be laughing at the whole ordeal.

It was exhausting, but what could you do? The words came just a little bit easier from that point, and you felt yourself accept defeat and immersed yourself in your paper. At the end of the day you couldn’t control how he felt about you- you just had to take it or leave it. Not everything is that deep, you rolled your eyes at yourself, but you knew truthfully the lack of his care and affection was more than a little sting. You decided you were better off defining the “relationship” for yourself, and maybe showing a little bit more restraint. Who said everything had to be that serious, maybe you should've taken a page out of Javier’s book!

Yes that was it, not everything was that serious, was it?

You really wished you’d had the foresight to gauge the stupidity of trying to drown out your surroundings in a public space in the middle of the night. Sure, no external threat could get you inside the excessively secure embassy building, but what did that mean when the real threat to your sanity was the DEA attache.

Truth be told, you'd have jumped in fear if anyone had tapped their fingers on your computer screen, but when Javier rounded your desk with a raised brow and waved his hand in front of your computer, you were particularly startled.

“The hell are you doing here?”

Any other time you’d probably met him with a snappy reply, something to get him going, maybe rile him up enough till he was pressing your face against your papers and fucking you from the back. You wished you could have given him that response that day, but you were so completely out of yourself, you settled for a shrug and a normal “trying to finish this section”.

“That why you disappeared these past two days?”

“I wish.. probably would have been done by now.” His brows kit, somewhat confused and just noticing your tired, puffy eyes now that he was closer.

“When’s it due.” he leaned to sit on your table , and traced your features with his fingers. You felt your eyes flutter shut as the tip of his index ran along the bridge of your nose, and feared your new policy was at risk of being thrown right out of the window at his attention. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. Unhappy, but unable to resist it. “Next week.”

He pitched your damp cheeks between his fingers, gently shaking your head from side to side. “You've got time.”

You hummed and took a moment to look up at him- yellow table lamp doing his golden features all sorts of favours, ones that he didn't even need to begin with if you were being honest.The weight of his hand, the roughness of his skin against yours had a soft sigh escaping your lips.

Javier's hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to the back of your neck, and he gently guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you helped yourself up long enough to watch him rise beside you, stepping closer. He stepped around you, positioning himself between yourself and the chair, his breath warm against your ear.

"Sit," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hand moved to the back of your neck again, this time pulling you down onto his lap. The gesture was possessive, not tender.

You obeyed, lowering yourself onto him, your legs on either side of his waist, dangling off the seat. Javier's hands rested on your waist momentarily, heavy and harsh, before drifting lower to your hips, pulling you further into his lap till you could feel his bulge swell against you. You felt yourself get wet, he lifted your hips and then pulled you back down against him, allowing you the slight relief of the friction as you felt yourself embarrassingly throb against him.

The proximity was suffocating, his scent—cigarettes, and aftershave. He leaned closer, and for a moment, in your delusion, you thought he might kiss you. Instead his fingers squeezed around your throat, breath fanning your lips. “You want to be daddy’s good girl, dontch’ya?” his voice was low, and biting, and you knew you were in for it, for avoiding him, when he tightened his grip at your lack of answer.

Slick pooled in your panties, and he let you press your hot core against him, undoubtedly able to feel how easily he could unravel you. You shifted your gaze up at the ceiling to avoid his own.

You squeaked out a feeble “yes”, already delirious. “Then why the fuck, did you think you could disappear without telling me?” He reached for the string that held together the top of your dress, rather aggressively tugging it undone, watching as it unravelled and revealed the soft cotton of your lingerie. “Busy” you whined when traced your skin with his pointer finger, palm coming to squeeze at your breast and then pull your bra aside.

“Not looking too busy now, are ya?” your nipple pebbled under his palm, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses along your neck. You whimpered, reaching to tangle your fingers in Javier’s hair. Surprisingly, he let you tug on his locks, allowing you to ground yourself as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud. He came up to nip at your jaw and you whimpered a soft “M’ sorry”.

“What was that?” Javier rolled his eyes and growled in your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth, and pinching the flesh of your thighs, prompting you to speak up. And speak up you did, heat seeping into your panties at his tone and words. He didn’t respond to you, just hummed his assent and pulled you harder against him.

His hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and his big arms crossed under you to support your weight. Continuing to kiss along your neck he plopped you on the table, but you couldn’t lie, you much preferred being carried so gently in his hold. Thank god the desk had been cleared– giving him enough room to push you back against it. You didn't really want to unwrap your legs from around him, but he grunted disapprovingly before prying your legs from his waist. Your heart jumped as he took a seat on your dingy rolly chair, his large palms lifting your legs by your calves till your feet were planted on his thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

Javier's eyes caught sight of your untied shoelace, a small hazard in the midst of your hurried night. As usual, without a word, he leaned down, fingers deftly working to tie the lace in a swift, fluid motion, securing the bow with a final, firm tug, patting the top of your shoe before returning to the task at hand.

His eyes were hungry like they always were, deep brown, alluring, the only readable emotion in them- lust. Those large palms parted your knees, making space for you between them. A tingle ran up your spine when he brushed the tips of his fingers against the inside of your thigh, dragging them along your skin till he was toying with the hem of your panties. He shifted forward in the chair, meeting your eyes as he planted a kiss on your calf, and then hoisted your legs up on his shoulders.

Javier took a moment to admire you, letting his rough hands roam under your skirt. You always wondered what those hands were doing; how they wrapped around his gun when he ran out of the office with it, how small they made the cigarette he was smoking look. You watched him grab, and hold, and type from across your desk when he hadn’t fucked you in a day or two, imagined those hands grabbing at your flesh and wrapping around your throat. You imagined him pumping his fingers in and out your pussy with your own hands between your legs in the middle of the night- unable to go mere days without him fucking you, salivating at the thought of those hands wrapped around his thick cock, wondering if he too couldn’t go without your touch.

Lost in your thoughts you shuddered when you felt him drag his tongue up the cut of your slit, the already moist fabric of your panties sticking to your skin as he nudged your clit with his nose. Your head fell back involuntarily, and you felt your arms ache as you continued to struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows. Seemingly, he had decided that day he wasn’t going to make you work for it- you looked like you were working far too much already.

“Look at me.” Javier sharply instructed from between your legs. Nipping the inside of your right thigh till you yelped in his hold. You weren't going to last very long at the sight of him, eyes glancing up at you as his mouth ghosted over your soaked pussy. You watched intently as his fingers pulled your panties aside, softly grazing your swollen flesh in a way that had you pulling your lip between your teeth to contain the pornographic moan that threatened to spill from your mouth and alert the security guard across the hall.

Your leg twitched on his shoulder as he licked a long, firm stripe up your aching pussy. Both your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue softly explored your folds. The sight of Javier between your legs was enough to send you over the edge, one that would live in your head for a very long time.

You struggled to hold his eyes with your own when he licked at your entrance, increasing his pace ever so slightly before he was softly sucking your clit into his mouth. Letting yourself lean back against the table you reached to continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, hoping he'd let you have his fluffy locks in your hold. Turns out you were lucky the first time, because as was more common, Javier reminded you of his “no grabbing at daddy” attitude by grasping your hand in his.

“No grabbin at daddy, babygirl” he murmured against your wetness and you shivered. His fingers engulfed yours, stroking your skin and moving your hands to your chest. His large palm covered yours and squeezed your fingers around your breasts. You moaned, and arched your back against the table up into both your palms as his tongue achingly slipped inside you.

The feel of his mouth against you was more than perfect, the way he expertly ate you out till you were wiggling your hips against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. Slow and soft then faster and rough, just how he knew you liked it.

He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of you just as much, groaning against your wet cunt everytime you twitched and shuddered against him, the taste of you prompting him only to bury himself deeper between your thighs, pull and grab at your hips, hold you close against him as your chest rose and fell.

Javier lashed his tongue at your entrance, then plunged it into your slick cunt. You felt your core tighten, and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Please…” barely able to complete your sentence you squealed when he circled your clit with his tongue. You could feel him grin against the inside of your thigh, and you reached for his hands on your hips to tug at his fingers feebly.

Making out the sound of his chuckle over your heavy breathing you whined, and then proceeded to melt in his hold when he responded with a rather gentle, yet delayed and somewhat playfully annoyed “You can come for daddy, babygirl.”

The grip of your fingers on his tightened, and you sighed, finally letting go as Javier worked between your legs. Your cunt clamped down on his tongue as he finished you off, licking you through your orgasm and holding your hips down as you shook and squirmed above him.

He kissed along your seam gently as you caught your breath, your breath hitching when he pushed two fingers in your still sensitive cunt to gently stroke your walls. He stifled a groan. You looked down between your legs as he withdrew those fingers and began to stand up. “She so fuckin wet for me, hmm?” He rubbed slow, soft circles on your clit, not caring to watch you intently for any giveaway that would instruct him on the perfect rhythm. He already knew what you liked- he didn’t need to bother. “Slutty little pussy achin’ to be fucked… after all these days, aint she?”

He took a second to get a good look at you as he moved closer between your legs, and you propped yourself back up on your elbows and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in.

“My good little slut”

Bringing his fingers to your lips he urged them open, pushing in and watching you suck gently on his digits. You shivered at the taste of your own arousal. As always you felt a little fuzzy when he did something like that– letting your eyes droop until he nudged you to release them with a pop. He ran those fingers across your lips, watching you struggle to keep your eyes on him as his hand drifted downwards to wrap swiftly around your neck. “That's better isn't it?” he pressed his clothed cock against your bare, swollen pussy, your panties surely on the verge of ripping the way they’d been pulled aside. Javier seemed to be thinking along the same lines as you, because in a moment he reached for them and urgently dragged them down your hips, unwrapping himself from your hold and holding your ankles in one hand as the other slid your panties all the way off of you.

When you whined at the loss of his body against yours he tutted, raising his eyebrows at you in warning.

He then grabbed your thigh with his hand once again, squeezing it and holding it in place against his waist. You heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it. A rough edge on said belt scraped against your skin, but it was difficult to pay attention to it when you felt him reach between your bodies to tease your dripping slit with his length.

It was sad to admit, but nothing took the weight of your shoulders much like the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your wet pussy, head bumping your clit till you were shivering and then notching at your entrance. You heard him mutter a strained curse under his breath at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. Javier didn't waste much time, as much as he seemed to enjoy the sight of you deliriously wiggling your hips under him.

He leaned down and traced the curve of your jaw with the bridge of his nose, breathing in your scent as he pushed in– slowly and gently. Much slower and gentler than he had ever been before. Your legs tightened around him, hips lifting pathetically as you felt him stretch you open. It had been far too long since you’d had him inside you.

“Such a good little girl..” His hips snapped towards yours.

“Aren’t ya?” It was an out of body experience, so overwhelming and dizzying you could almost see yourself in the act. Your brain couldn’t comprehend that tone and that gentleness as is, forget when Javier’s cock dragged deliciously against your aching walls.

Your elbows caved from under you, letting you fall completely back against your little desk. Your head went to fall back soon after, but Javier had managed to snake his hand behind your neck– cradling your head and shielding it from the hard wooden table. Instinctively, you buried your nose in the collar of his dress shirt. He let you seek respite, palm holding you against his warm body, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

Your skin felt like pins and needles, little sparks bounced off your exposed waist and prompted you to wiggle your hips away from him at the intensity of the sensations. “Nah uh” yanking you back in his direction Javier squeezed your hips in his hands, refusing to let you escape the death grip he had on your body, pulling you towards him with every deep, slow, thrust.

“Silly little thing” He laughed against your lips, so close they brushed against you. You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell slack against his. He took your bottom lip between his teeth. He released it as your walls clenched around him, brows knitting at the feel of your warm, soft cunt around his cock.

“Mine aren’t ya? Daddy’s good little slut?” Unable to catch hold of anything on the table, your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers twisting the fabric as you gripped it as tightly as you could. He let you pull him towards you, one hand sneaking between your bodies to grab and squeeze at your breast.

“Then you’re gonna take it like I give it to ya?” You tried to nod, head lulling side to side and mouth hanging open, desperate noises leaving your lips. When your back arched against the table he pulled you into his chest, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so tightly you felt the leather of his belt cut into your soft skin.

Eventually he picked up his pace, and you could make out the sound of your pens clattering to the ground as your back moved relentlessly against the desk. The dim grey flood light above you came in and out of your focus, the heat that swelled up inside you hindering your ability to concentrate on absolutely anything. “Getting all cock drunk on me..” Anything but him. Yet another orgasm stirred in your tummy, your entire body hot and tingling with overwhelm. “There’s my good girl”.

He pulled you into him with every thrust, his hard length throbbing inside of you. “Just how I like ya’– no thoughts in that head’ve yours.” Your bare chest pressed against his soft shirt, but you longed to feel the heat of his body against your skin.

“Can't think ‘bout anything but daddy can you?” he managed to laugh, his thick cock dragging against your wet walls in a way that had your mouth falling open in a gasp. “Just daddy, ain't that right?” As usual he grabbed at every part of you he could, hands seeking purchase on any exposed skin.

He grazed your earlobe with his teeth as he spoke. “Poor baby, going dumb on daddy.” All you could do was whine. “Can’t hear ya..” you whimpered again, strained and hasty “yes”s leaving your mouth at record speed as the tension in your core threatened to burst.

“S’ how it should be” your dress made it easy for you to slide along the surface of the table as he fucked into your tight, wet heat, railing you as you twitched around him. You struggled to form a broken “daddy” between your lips.

“Stupid little girl can’t do anything but be daddy’s little sexdoll hmm?” you shook your head, but he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “‘S okay babylove, s’ how daddy likes ya best” he shook your face gently, “when ya ain't runnin that smart mouth of yours.”

He grunted and sighs above you, seemingly lost in his own pleasure, not bothering for the first time to make you beg. It was as if the two days you spent apart had him prioritising other things. “Better this way isn’t it, nothin you gotta worry that pretty head about…” you felt your cunt squeeze him. “Not when daddy’s fuckin’ ya’”

You could tell he was close by the way his thick cock throbbed against your slick walls, the way his Texan accent came through just a little more than it usually did. Your thighs quivered against his waist as the heat continued to pool in your belly.

You knew he was close when he straightened up again, hands wrapping firmly around your throat as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over. “C’mon baby, be a good girl and come for daddy” he tightened his grip, thumb reaching up to swipe gently at your slack lips.

You felt your pussy clench around his cock, finally letting go as you writhed under him. You heard him groan over the ringing in your ears, your own eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolled over you in waves. You gushed around him, your own release prompting his.

Watching his brows knit as his thrusts got sloppy might have well sent you on a second release, aftershocks making your hips wiggle against his palms as he squeezed them, his cock throbbing inside you before he erupted with a shudder. A string of strained curses escaped his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his high.

You laid there, the heat from your exertion slowly dissipating. You felt Javier pull out, his spend trickling down your thighs, and slide your panties back up over your legs. A heaviness tugged at your limbs and made your eyelids droop. Every muscle felt loose, languid, as if all the tension and energy had been drawn out, leaving behind only a deep, satisfying fatigue.

Javier put his hands on your waist and lifted you off the table, you returned to your habitual silence, this time albeit far more satiated than before. You were dizzy, feeling like a small ghost floating in front of him, engulfed by his towering form. The world around you began to fade, sounds muffling and blurring into an indistinct background hum.

Every blink became slower, your vision narrowing to slits before closing entirely. You let yourself drift into that warm state between sleep and wakefulness, the exhaustion of the week catching up to you in more ways than one, uncaring of the sense that Javier’s eyes had been lingering. You felt him trace the bridge of your nose, reducing any prospects of you actually getting off that desk.

He fixed your lingerie and tied the bow of your dress back up, one hand returning to stroke your cheek. His other arm came to support your back as it wrapped around you, pulling you towards him. You looked up to find him watching you, with an expression you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment.

You couldn’t help but fall into his chest as he stood above you, his arms reaching behind you as he packed your things in your work bag. You felt your eyes flutter shut again, complete exhaustion taking over your weak form. He placed a kiss to your temple, lifting you off the table once and into his hold once again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking securely at the ankles. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your flesh.

You felt cold again suddenly, and Javier readjusted his arms to hold you with his right while his left rubbed along your shoulders to warm up your skin, prickled with goosebumps.

Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a comforting, rhythmic lull. You nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, tilting your head till your nose was brushing the cut of his jaw.

Javier shifted slightly, and you could feel the subtle change in his posture as he leaned towards you, and his face came level with yours– you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. His hand cradled your cheek.

With your eyes still closed you felt his lips press gently against yours, so pillowy and soft you barely registered them. He tasted how you’d imagined so many times before– cigarettes, and whiskey. Melting into his touch your hands moved to ball the fabric of his shirt gently in your fist. His lips moved against your’s with a carefulness you couldn’t really understand, but the fact that they were at all was enough. Exhaustion aside, you had a feeling the triviality of the whole ordeal, its comfort and normality seemed expected. And just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Perhaps it had always meant a lot more to you, than it did to him.

The hand that was cupping your cheek pinched it and then snaked around your waist to help you find your footing on the ground, the same hand coming down to slap your ass as he pushed you towards the door.

In usual Javier fashion he checked his phone, uninterestedly murmuring a soft “you can start again tomorrow” as you stood in the elevator. He let you lean against him, his palm coming down to pat your head momentarily before it was back to sorting the files in his hands. You looked up at him, his mind now completely diverted to whatever he had come to collect in the office in the first place, so unbothered by what seemed to transpire between the two of you.

Perhaps nothing really did.

You wished his words gave you some motivation, but it was turning out to be really difficult to want to be anything more than his dumb, silly, little girl.

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

sakjdlakd I'm sorry I just can't let them be happy lmao. Hope you enjoyed this, and let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who reblogs and comments on my content, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @/sardika 🐝✨💗

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kingconia · 1 year

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Hello I js read ur MC who takes inspriration from the protag of their stories and if you're still taking requests, is it possible to do a part 2 for it?

A/N: You are welcome. I pondered a little about the continuation of this concept, and figured out that Leona & Vil had the most potential for the second part, since I left a cliffhanger in their stories. Others seemed quite cliche or obvious—Riddle has a crush, he can easily deal with, and same goes for Malleus, Azul & Idia. I hope, you don't mind.

The first part can be found here. Obviously, read it first for the context.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR & VIL SCHOENHEIT WITH THE READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST OF THEIR STORIES.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Leona is bad at admitting aloud that he made a mistake, but it doesn't necessarily mean he has no realisation of it. He knows, he hurt you. That is obvious;

— He starts paying more attention to you in the school, since he hasn't figured out how to fix your relationship yet. And that is when he notices that... You are actually not as cheerful as he remembered you to be? Most of the time, you sit away from other students of Savanaclaw?

— When he asks Ruggie about that, he shrugs. He tells Leona that you were always like this, and they even call you ”the sombre heir” among themselves, since you are not quite fun to have around. Leona is surprised. You were so different with him...

— In the end, Leona simply decides to speak with you honestly. He has this feeling that you will accept him either way. You always did before. But, oh, seems like he is not on your good side anymore, isn't he?

•

”Oi, kittie, watcha doin'?” Leona plops in front of you, putting his elbows on the table.

He is nervous, he will not lie about. It is the first time he feels such an overcoming anxiety before someone alive, and that is strange. It is just you, after all. Right?

”Dunno,” you answer slowly, putting a slice of meat in your mouth. ”Thinking about my family, who died so yours could take our throne away. You, Leona?”

Well, you definitely are not planning to forgive him so easily.

Leona shifts uncomfortably as he tries to catch your gaze. Without a luck.

”I accept my fault,” he murmurs quietly, hardly audible. ”And if anything, I understand your pain. I, too—”

A sudden laugh from your lips makes him stop in the tracks. As you wipe your mouth with the napkin, you smile suddenly. And when you raise your eyes on him, Leona almost flinches. Because there is nothing kind or gentle in these orbs now. Instead, they are cold. They are cold, and at the same time, they are awfully mad.

”What would you know about it, golden boy?” Your voice shift in a condescending tone as you shake your head slightly. ”Kings like your brother, Leona, they have honour. And princes like you or your little nephew have a bravery and heart. But people like me, Leona, the fallen ones, we only have rage. So, excuse me, but I don't think we are at the same page, kittie.”

You are hissing your last words, hand coming to grab Leona by his chin, tip of claws scratching his skin. He wants to back away, he intends too, but he is suddenly strangely fascinated by you. Intimidated, even.

”If you want to apologise, Leona, then do it properly. With falling on your knees, at least,” your fangs flash in a carnivorous smirk. ”And until then, have your dreams. Sweet or not—we will see in which mood I am going to be today.”

Leona gulps as he watches you leaving, eyes fixated on your back.

Perhaps you ignored his existence until now, willing to forget his rudeness. But now, it seemed, he lost the last pieces of your mercy.

...And he needs to figure out how to have your forgiveness really quick.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Vil is not surprised when headmaster warns him, that someone from his dorm attempts to take away his housewarden title. He already knows who it is, and he is not surprised to see your face, when he enters the main hall;

— He had a bad week already: his hair products worked awfully, your number of followers outnumbered his own, and Neige practically took the role that was his in the very last moment. It is only logical that in the same week you attempt to take his title;

— And, of course, you succeed. The poison you created can be only worth of the Pomefiore housewarden, and no one can deny that. Even Vil. In fact, he always acknowledged your brains and wilt, so of anything, he feels it is fair win;

— What makes him stop frozen, though, is the person you want to see as your vice. Originally, Vil thought that you will take Rook—he is quite aware of his attraction towards you—but then... You chose him? Why? Why would you do that?

•

”Well,” Vil says, when the two of your are left in the room alone, and there is no need to act as you were friends anymore. ”What else are you planning to do with me? You are the housewarden—you won. Why making me your vice?”

You turn on your heels to face him, a big and shiny smile plastered on your face as you step closer to him.

”Don't be so mean, Vil-sama. Why do you act as if I hate you? I don't,” you put yours hands on chair handles he is sitting at, invading his personal space gracefully. ”I cannot hate a person, who helped me to understand what my signature spell is.”

Vil furrows, pressing his back to the chair more firmly, not trusting you coming close to him. Yet, it hardly changes anything—the tips of your noses are practically touching.

”I apologise, but I cannot recall such a thing.”

He had never helped you with anything in your life. Now, Vil is ashamed that he didn't.

He remembers your first day in the dorm. How you clinged to his side, with stars shining in your eyes, asking him about this and that. How you attempted to befriend him. How you only originally started to speak with Rook to understand him better.

Vil failed the little student of his.

And the person in front of him didn't want his acceptance now.

”How come?” Your hands are suddenly on his head, fingers wrapped around his favourite diadem, taking it off slowly. ”After all, you were the first beast I spoke with.”

He flinches, and you carefully kiss him on the cheek before putting the diadem on your own hair. It looks nice.

Vil hates that.

”I miss the kid you were,” he murmurs against his best judgement.

You hum.

”Bear the monster you created, instead.”

You left him on the vice position so it could be a remind for his mistake. For his cruelty. For his arrogance. He realises it now. You don't need to do anything special to hurt him, if he does it to himself, working under your command on the daily basis, seeing you shine, when he burns out.

You are beautiful, Vil accepts that. Your revenge is a charming one, too.

”I heard Neige got that role?” You ask suddenly, when he reaches doors, unwilling to turn back. ”Such a shame. Something must happened.”

He grits his teeth.

Vil hates himself for making you like this. Yet, he can't help but feel proud. Whatever he created you as—you would take what is yours, with blood and sweat. He can admire that about you. And deep inside, Vil thinks you do that, too. Deep inside you enjoy it as much as you hate it.

”Yes. Something.”

After all, there is truly nothing Vil can do, but accept his defeat.

The king is dead. Long life to you.

A/N: Based on protagonists or not—they had some darkness in theirselves as well; just as Simba was quite ruthless, when the situation required of it, in many interpretations of the tale, Snow-white learned how to be cruel, too. I think it is enamoring how these said protagonists can be just as their villains, especially if they were growing up around them in one way or another.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader

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zmbiesuga · 1 year

Text

UNLEARN MY HURT — s. kiyoomi x gn!reader

sypnonsis: growing up in a home where lashing out was normal, it's weird to have someone be so patient with you as you unlearn all those toxic behaviors

warnings: mentions of fighting, reader never learned how to properly express themselves (me), sakusa is so loving and patient that it's sickening, hurt/comfort-ish??, established relationship, use of petnames (angel)

notes: i want to preface this by saying, i used my own experience with my toxic household so i'm sorry if it doesn't resonate with everybody, i also wrote this at 5 in the morning so if there're mistakes whoopsies, i'll fix them later

something people don't realize, is that sakusa kiyoomi is a patient man.

he's patient with atsumu when he's annoying him, he's patient with hinata and bokuto as their rowdiness becomes too overwhelming for him, and he's patient with himself as he takes deep breaths to avoid snapping.

sakusa kiyoomi is in touch with emotions and is open about how he feels. he seems brooding and closed-off, but he's the last person to hesitate to tell someone how they're making him feel.

sakusa kiyoomi is your polar opposite.

it's hard for you to open up about a lot of things, especially anger. it's hard for you to keep it in check, so you push it down. the more you do it, the worse it becomes. which leads to your small irritation becoming full-fledged rage at the simplest of things.

this is something that rings true tonight as you walk through the door to you and omi's shared apartment, pinching the bridge of your nose with closed eyes as you let out a heavy sigh before you hear kiyoomi emerge from the living room.

"hey," he says softly as his eyes look at your figure up and down (that's something else about kiyoomi, he can read people eerily well), he can almost smell the anger radiating off of you, "...you wanna talk about it?"

he walks over to you and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder that you shrug off almost immediately as you walk to the kitchen, where he follows.

after a few minutes of silence as you get yourself a drink, you turn to kiyoomi with furrowed brows, "why don't you ever get mad at me?"

sakusa blinks a few times in confusion before he furrows his own brows, "...what?" he questions in that same soft tone, "you want me to get mad at you...?"

"no," you say firmly, almost in a sneer, "i said, why don't you ever get mad at me."

truth be told, you were yelling at yourself to shut up and stop while you were ahead. ultimately though, you decided to ignore your better conscience as you continued to attempt to push his buttons.

"i mean, if you shrugged my hand off of your shoulder and ignored me, i'd be fuming," you admitted, your voice slowly getting louder, "i just...don't understand why you never scream, why you never get mad at me and take it out on me as a response."

sakusa took a deep breath before he responded calmly, "because what good would that do us, angel?"

your eyes widen slightly as you look at him, searching your brain for an answer, "because..." you mumble as you trail off in useless thought.

you can't actually think of any reason, you just know that's how your parents dealt with things. pushed them away until it got too much to handle, and then snap at each other almost over nothing.

you look away from him with slight embarrassment as you swallow the lump in your throat as sakusa walks over to you, holding your face between his hands.

"it wouldn't do me any good to yell at you, even if i'm irritated with you," he said, "i just find something else to take it out on, like the volleyball court or taking some time alone. something i can do to process how i'm feeling."

you look up at him as your eyes become glossy, placing your own hands on his where they rest against the side of your face.

"angel, i love you, but pushing down how you're feeling isn't healthy," he says in a comforting tone, "and it also isn't healthy to take it out on someone who hasn't done anything. i know emotions are hard, okay? but i need you to understand that i'm here to help you through them and figure out what works best for you."

you looked up at him and nodded as you blinked, a few tears running down your face in the process that sakusa quickly wiped away.

"so how about we go sit down, and you tell me what's actually wrong, okay?" he asked again in a soft tone, a warm smile tugging at his lips.

you nodded again as you took his hand, sitting down on the couch as you prepared to open up.

he was right, emotions are hard, but having someone as patient as sakusa kiyoomi around makes them a little bit easier.

#love letters from leo #my dearest haikyuu #i need a sakusa in my life tbh #sakusa x reader #sakusa x gn!reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa comfort #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #hq x reader #hq x gn!reader #hq fluff #hq comfort #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

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luveline · 9 months

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hi love. if you’re taking any requests could i request rockstar!sirius, or sirius in general, like the start of the relationship when everything is cute funny but they're still not a Couple

rockstar!sirius takes you on a date ♡ fem, 1.2k

“If you're here to antagonise me, you can just go home, Sirius,” you warn.

Sirius Black gives you a dastardly grin, sliding into the seat across from you in a cloud of expensive cologne and hairspray. You're ashamed to say he smells nice, if a little sharp.

“Hair explosion?” you ask.

“You're very, very cruel to me, angel. I shouldn't call you that.” The toe of his converse hits yours. He leans forward, covering the pages of your novel with a hand adorned in silver jewellery. “It's no longer accurate.”

“So mean,” you sigh, imbuing it with as much gutted patheticness as possible.

“Hey, I'm kidding.” He pushed his foot between yours. “How long have you been here? Did you wait long?”

You close your book, put it flat out of reach, and fix him with a genuine smile. “No, not long.”

Sirius leans over to kiss your cheek. You'll feel it for the next half an hour, a tingling, crescent moon of contact. “Well, good. Should we go and order? Know what you want?” He shakes his head. “I know what you want. Stay here.”

He pops up and away as quick as he'd arrived. You panic. Cool and collected you may have seemed, but internally you're a storm of nerves, hands shaking ever so slightly as you take the compact mirror from your pocket and check over your features. You're worried you look like you've tried as hard as you have, all your complicated skincare and makeup, sheer shimmers and invisible concealer.

Sirius met you without a lick of makeup and he still acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread. You remember it all in vivid detail, the way he'd looked at you, the double-take, the subsequent flirting. Sirius doesn't neg, but it was hard at first to know if he was being real with you. And what, he'd drawled, unblinking, dark lashes and kohl rings emphasised by his stillness, is a thing like you doing in a place like this?

Thing? you'd asked softly, confused and intimidated by his attention. You'd recognised him immediately.

Girl, he'd corrected himself. Then, with a strange smile, Angel. You're an angel, huh? Must be.

It wasn't some world-bending line but it didn't need to be, his demeanour did the hard work for him. And his appearance didn't hurt.

Even now as he walks back towards you, your heart skips a quick beat. He looks more casual than he has the last few times he's seen you, a leather jacket swapped for ragged black denim, and tight pants replaced with jeans that hug his thighs. You can't believe a thing like him would ever be interested in you, but he most assuredly is.

“Here,” he says, putting a drink down in front of you, and again leaning down to kiss your other cheek. “You look so pretty.” He says it like it’s nothing, doesn't cost him a thing, not a shred of doubt nor bravery. Then he adds, “You're fucking perfect. Can't believe you walk around like this for free.”

“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pushing him away. You can't bring yourself to be mean about it. Sirius hasn't ever been mean to you, not once, despite the things people have told you since you met. Be careful with that one. Guys like him want one thing.

After three dates and two evenings spent watching films together on his ragtag sofa (and enjoying the laziest, softest kisses a girl may ever have been given), you've yet to find out what he wants. To adore you, apparently.

He runs his pinky down your cheek and under your chin. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

You lift your chin invitingly.

Sirius laughs into your lips, suddenly kissing you, close and heavy-handed. You rise off of your seat to meet him, only an inch or so but enough to pull a deep sound from the back of his throat. You've never been kissed like this; his hand is steady on your cheek, reluctant to let you go, and he presses down hard with his lips. Nearly too much, never quite there. He rounds it out with a softer one and pulls back to gaze at you fondly.

“I missed you,” he says, sneaking back in to kiss the slight curve of your laugh line. “Not cool, this whole sleeping at your own flat business.”

He isn't your boyfriend, yet. Hasn't asked. So he isn't staying at yours nor you at his. But he has to ask soon, right? Who kisses people like that without intentions of some sort of commitment?

Rockstars, your brain supplies cruelly. Infamous players.

“Well, where else would I be staying?” you ask as he sits back in his seat.

“Good question, beautiful.” He ignores it, anyhow. “I've ordered a few too many things. Don't be mad.”

“I won't be.” You take your purse from your coat. “So long as it doesn't cost more than sixty two pounds and eight p, that is.”

“Shut up, as if you're paying. You're fucking childish–”

“You're childish, I'm trying to keep things fair and you won't let me!”

“Quite right. Look at the state of you,” he says, eyes roving across your face pleasantly, “you think you deserve to pay for dinner? No. I asked you, and I've ordered, and it'll cost a bit more than what you have anyways.” He drops the act just enough to see a sliver of doubt. “Please, let me take care of it. I want to buy you dinner, sweetheart. It's the least I want to do for you.”

You look at him through your lashes, face angled down at the ebony wooden table. “Yeah, alright. I don't mind.”

“Good, because you didn't really have a choice. How can I expect you to say yes if I don't pay for dinner first?”

“Say yes to what?” you ask, frowning gently. He's confused you.

Sirius offers both hands across the table. You place yours softly in his, letting him brush the pads of his thumbs against your knuckles.

“To being official,” he says, a hopeful smile playing on his lovely mouth. “What do you think? Is it too soon to ask?”

You shake your head minutely.

He drops his head a little, meeting your eyes. “Do you want to be together?”

“I'll be your girlfriend?” you confirm.

“Do you want to be?” His lips part but he doesn't add anything more, though he might want to. You understand that vulnerability won't be instantaneous between you both. You can wait. If this is even a hint of the man he is, you want to be together more than anything.

You nod, forcing your smile into a line that soon wobbles.

He leans across the table for another kiss. This one chaste. Perfect.

“Thank you,” he says. When he sits back, he's practically glowing with smugness. “Fuck. I thought that would be harder.”

“I can make it worse for you if you want to ask me again."

“Would you? Let's take it from the top, angel. I didn't suffer half as much as I should've.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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princessmaybank · 2 months

Note

OKAY LAST ONE I SWEAR I MEANT TO SPREAD THESE OUT OBER TIME

🍒 cherry red !

6 and 9 (dirty number not intended) with jj ! 💋

Finally, the last request from my celebration! I'm so sorry it took this long, I hope you enjoy it my love!

Come Crawling Back

Pairings: Rafe x Fem!Reader, JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (Fem. receiving), Edging, Fingering, etc.

Summary: Rafe can't satisfy you, so JJ will.

Author's Note: This one was kinda quick with smut, but I hope you all like it nonetheless!

"Oh fuck...oh fuck... FUCK-" I grunt after I feel Rafe pull away. His tongue perfectly swirled around my hole and his teeth bit at my clit with the most pleasurable pain. But he had to fucking PULL AWAY.

I huffed as he sat there, chuckling to himself. "It's called edging baby." He spoke. "It's called bullshit Rafe." I said standing up and pulling up my panties. My skirt followed as I fixed my hair and shirt. "Hey where ya goin? I'm not done with you!" He yelled as I walked out. This must have been the thousandth time this man has tried this whole 'edging' thing and the thousandth and one time I've told him I'm not into it. "To JJ's! At least I know he'll give me a good orgasm!" I yell out the door and walk to my car. JJ and I haven't done anything in a long time, but Rafe didn't need to know that. "Don't come crawling back to me bitch!" He slammed the door. I think Rafe and I just broke up..

Not literally cause we were just hooking up, but damn it's been a few months. I mean I have been looking for a reason to break it off, but I didn't expect it to be over this, and this soon. As I was driving to the chateau, I realized last time I talked to JJ, he wasn't thrilled about my 'adventures' with Rafe. I only told him about it last weekend when we had a small party at the chateau. I was drunk and I guess I felt like I was at confessional. JJ hasn't talked to me much since. It definitely made things a bit more awkward between us.

JJ and I used to have a friends-with-benefits relationship. It was great until one day he decided to end things because he felt like he might catch feelings and ruin our friendship. I told him nothing could ruin us, but he wasn't swayed, so we ended things. We were awkward for the first week or so but then we were the best of friends. Well until last weekend.

I pulled up to the chateau and realized I had no plan. What the fuck was I going to do? Just say that I haven't been able to cum and I need help from my best friend that is upset with me at the moment? No. I don't think so.

I walked into the chateau and was greeted by my friends. They were all sitting around the living room, watching a movie. Everyone shouted their own 'hello's' and 'how the hell are ya's'. I respond to all of them before they tell me to watch it with them.

"There's room next to JJ on the couch babe!" Kie yelled from the floor. Of course that's where I get to sit. I made my way to the couch and was getting ready to sit but JJ moved. Not away from me, he moved away from the arm of the couch so I could have that spot. He knows that's my favorite place to sit. I gave him a small smile and I got one back before sitting down.

JJ offered me his blanket but I didn't want him to get cold so I said I was fine. He clearly saw me shivering and he shared the blanket with me. Maybe I didn't have to think of what to say to him. We were okay. There's a slight tension but we are headed in the right direction which is all that matters.

I was still on edge from my rendezvous with Rafe earlier. I couldn't sit still and JJ seemed to notice. "Can you sit still please?" He whispered in my ear. "I'm trying.." I whined into his ear by accident. I immediately blushed and he adjusted next to me while clearing his throat.

"What's up with you?" He asked. I shook my head 'no' trying to put my attention back on the movie. JJ scooted closer to me and whispered in my ear. "I've fucked you multiple times, Y/N..I know when you're horny." His hand found my thigh under the blanket and slowly rubbed up and down. "I-I'm not." I don't look at him. His hand starts to get closer to my heat before I jump up. "I have to go! Xena needs to be let out!" I used my dog as a cover up. I walked outside and not too long after, JJ came out too. "I'll see you later Jay.." I walk to my car and open the door before it's slammed shut and I'm spun around and pinned against my door. "W-what-" I was cut off by JJ's lips.

He pulled back before opening the back door and helping me in there. He got on his knees in front of me and pulled my skirt, along with my panties, down my legs and threw them in the trunk. JJ spread my legs and licked his lips when he noticed how wet I was.

"Who did this to you?" He teased.

"R-Rafe, he's been liking to edge me recently... actually called it off because I was getting sick of it." I huffed. "Poor girl.. he wouldn't let you cum?" He teased as he rubbed the inside of my thigh. I shook my head no. "Well I'm feeling nice today, I'd love to help you out." He pulls my hips forward and lowers his tongue to my heat. "oh- shit.." I gasp and throw my head back. I feel his lips leave mine before he speaks.

"Ah ah ah, eyes on me babygirl." JJ looks me in the eyes as he pulls my chin down. He pressed his mouth against my cunt again, swirling different symbols with his tongue. "Mmmm shit-" I start to lay my head back before I feel a sharp pain on my clit. "Ow!" He bit me. "Said eyes on me sweetheart." He says before continuing to eat me out.

I do as he says and try my hardest to watch him. His eyes never left mine, even as he pushed his fingers into me. "Fuck Jay- don't stop..." He giggled against my clit. If he wasn't busy I could hear him saying something like 'wasn't plannin' on it darlin'. His tongue and his fingers sped up while my mouth was spewing moans and curses, occasionally slipping JJ's name in there. "F-fuck Jay- m'gonna c-cum.." I whine before releasing on his fingers. He pulls out with a groan and slips his fingers into his mouth.

"Good girl..." He praised and rubbed my thigh as I came down from my high.

"Feel better now?" I shook my head and smiled at him. "Thought you'd never do that for me ever again." I giggle. "Well I did miss it, and the fact that I got you off and Rafe didn't, even if it was on purpose, is giving me a complex." He laughs which makes me giggle in return. "Well thank you for your help Jay..I needed that." I smile at him. "Any time sweetheart, anytime." He smirks and winks at me before giving me a kiss. "Next time you'll have to help me out."

#princess jade's 1.5k celebration #1.5k followers #outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

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neptuneiris · 1 year

Text

sparks (04/04)

But I promise you this I'll always look out for you

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 9.0k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

now yes, the epilogue is officially coming soon haha

hello loves! hope you are having a wonderful day!

I made an announcement about the change in the story so if for some reason you didn't read it, don't worry, here I will explain again what happened:)

the reason why I decided to add a part 4 to the fic is very simple: the chapter was too long for the epilogue and when I say too long I mean really long. and I didn't want to bore you or fill you with too much, believe me that the epilogue was exaggeratedly long:(

I'm sorry if it wasn't what you expected, but I decided the best and I really hope you like it a lot, after all it's not the end yet😚

that's all, I won't keep you any longer, enjoy!

Aemond Targaryen had never felt so miserable in his life.

The trip to Casterly Rock was one of the most important in his entire working career and yet it was the worst trip he had ever attended in his life.

His mind would not leave him alone and the urge to cry along with the anxiety and desperation he felt was too much. And it was so much that he couldn't control it.

But outside of that, he didn't care too much about the event, socializing and having conversations with other important businessmen, as if it wasn't something he did every day, nor did he attend to the press which was what he avoided the most nor did he care about Larys Strong and Alys Rivers.

He honestly didn't care about anything.

At least nothing outside of the important thing that was his meeting with his partner Jason Lannister and attending his conference with the board of directors.

He didn't care that this would later lead to 'serious consequences,' if you could call it that, with his grandsire.

Even after he caught up again with Jason Lannister and properly attended the conference with the board of directors, as soon as it was all over, he took his flight back to King's Landing in a needy and desperate manner.

And the first thing he did after landing was to look for you and try to talk to you. Although he must have known that you would not let him find you.

Your university is extremely large and although he tried to find you by asking the administration and coordination of your university for your varied schedule, they did not give him anything, as they cannot give out their students' personal and private information so openly to strangers.

They only do so on occasions that require it and are extremely necessary with hard evidence, such as to a family member of the student for an emergency or something like that.

And Aemond honestly didn't blame them, as he looked extremely desperate and like a madman, especially when they told him they couldn't give him that information.

So he went to your work, where he knew it would be easier to find you, but again… he was unsuccessful because you wouldn't let him.

"Uhm… I'm sorry, but she's not here."

Your coworker told him and judging by her face, he knew instantly that she was lying, especially by the pitiful face she was giving him amidst the assurance she wants to create by saying her words.

"Please, just tell her I need to talk to her," he tells her pleadingly, feeling like he will burst into tears at any second.

She lets out a long breath, as she looks away from his gaze for a moment, looking hesitant, nervous and even watching him with pity.

"I'm really sorry but… she hasn't presented for days now and I haven't really seen her."

"But I need to talk to her as soon as possible," he insists, sad and still with a hint of hope that he can fix this, "Do you know where I could find her after her classes and work?"

"I-I…" she starts to say nervously, biting her lips, then completely avoiding eye contact with him "I'm sorry but I don't know. Like I said, I haven't seen her, so I'm not aware of her plans after work."

He takes a deep breath, as he runs a hand through his hair and also over his face, feeling his heart beating too fast, losing patience, losing hope, feeling completely desperate and frustrated.

"Please," he begs, not knowing what else to do, "Please tell me. I really need to see her and talk to her. I'm worried."

Sophia, not knowing what else to say, can't help but feel uncomfortable and again averts her gaze from his.

"I'm sorry but I haven't seen her and I really don't know where she might be."

Aemond watches her for a few seconds without saying anything else even with his sad and desperate face, understanding perfectly that he wouldn't get anything from her about you.

He sees how she is more than willing to keep lying for you and even though he feels completely desperate and frustrated, he knows it's not her fault, so he decides not to push her too hard.

So he took a deep breath and tried to sound calmer.

"Okay, I understand, thank you," he says resignedly, "But if you see her, please tell her that I came looking for her and needed to talk to her," he tells her one last time, "Tell her to please consider it."

And Sophie nods with a sympathetic nod, still watching him with that pity.

"Sure, I will."

And he nods back.

"Thank you."

That time Aemond came out of the coffee shop completely disappointed, having the foolish hope that you would come out of hiding and stop him after the little show he gave to your coworker completely sad and desperate.

But of course, that didn't happen.

Upon returning to the apartment, nothing felt the same anymore. Aemond now all he feels now is a deep loneliness and sadness that eats him alive inside as he finds himself alone in that place, a place that was once home to him and you, where you both started a little life together as a couple.

With loneliness in his chest and in the middle of the apartment, he sees everything around him with his melancholic eye and face.

Everything now felt like a painful reminder of what he had lost.

The place is completely permeated with memories where every room and corner tells a story of his relationship with you.

The cushions on the couch where you used to cuddle and watch movies together, the kitchen island where you shared with each other your day to day separately and the kitchen where you made food or washed dishes together, laughing and talking about anything.

Aemond then goes to the bedroom, where he now sees your empty desk where there is no longer your laptop, your lamp and all those pens and markers with which you used to make notes for your classes, nor the various sheets and folders with which you used to do your projects and research.

So he understands why you decided to leave him, because even though it was never intentional and the least he wanted to do was hurt you, he still did.

Your vanity is also completely empty, where so many times you spent hours doing your makeup happy and energetic singing your favorite songs.

And other nights you would remove your makeup crying for him and because he never put a serious stop to his work by standing you up.

And as he looks at the bed, only the memories invade him more, beginning to feel his eye watering.

The two of you cuddling, him taking refuge in your arms after a stressful day at his job or you taking refuge in his arms after a stressful day at college. Also before bedtime, the two of you would talk about anything silly until you fell asleep, where the moment felt more intimate than anywhere else.

And Aemond loved those moments, as did you, where you both shared space on the comfort of your bed.

Aemond then wanting to return to the living room, he stops in the middle of the hallway looking at the door with a serious and at the same time pained expression, where he also remembers that day when you were here and he was at the entrance waiting for Cole, where everything happened.

But it's also where you both made love and showed that love to each other with that passion, with that affection and with that deep intimacy of just the two of you that was nothing ordinary or common.

You were just two people in love loving and enjoying each other with that complicity and that unique union that characterized them.

Letting out a huge breath, he then plops down on the couch, staring at a spot in the living room in silence, feeling completely alone and hopeless.

And he hates it.

He absolutely hates the feeling.

Just as he hates the feeling of emptiness in his heart that seems impossible to fill. Because he knows it can never be filled by anyone else. Only you.

And that's when Aemond starts to really break down, realization and acceptance slowly creeping into his mind, eating him alive, destroying him, leaving him with nothing.

Until it happens and in the midst of his silence and loneliness, he starts to cry without being able to help it anymore.

He hates everything, his job, his grandsire, the association with Alys Rivers, the press, absolutely everything and also himself, for letting you slip through his fingers and not doing anything more efficient from the beginning to avoid the breakup.

Because if he had, you would still be with him.

It's only until Aemond really feels miserable and like he can't breathe that he decides to call the only person who can get to him sooner, really not wanting to be alone, needing someone to be able to reassure him.

So he calls the one person he thinks might be able to help him and reassure him.

He would have called you, of that there is no doubt, you would be his first choice, but you have blocked him from everywhere, from every social media, calls and messages.

He would have called Hel too, but she's in Highgarden, Hells, he would have even called Aegon, but he's in Storm Ends.

"Yes, Aemond?"

Rhaenyra Targaryen answers on the other end of the call, and Aemond really can't formulate coherent sentences for every sob.

He tells her your name, that he can't find you, that you've blocked him from everywhere, he mentions his grandsire, the company, loneliness, sadness and that it all happened too fast, that he needs her and doesn't know what to do.

And soon after that Aemond says he doesn't want to be there anymore, so they both leave the apartment and with every step he takes away from the place that used to be a home for him, he feels an increasingly heavier weight than before in his heart.

Soon Rhaenyra arrives at the apartment to help her half brother, not asking him anything about what has him like this while he continues to cry and holds her hand tightly.

Rather Rhaenyra tries to reassure him by telling him that she is there for him.

It is only a matter of time before his entire family knows of his breakup with you, instantly Hel calling him, as does Aegon, Hel being the more surprised and incredulous of the two, wanting to know what has happened.

Since Aemond has no vacation and can't afford to miss work with a few extremely important and one hundred percent justifiable exceptions, he soon finds himself setting foot inside the building.

Though they both know, as does their whole family, that it was because of their grandsire and everything to do with the company, also because of Alys Rivers.

And they are not surprised when Aemond implies he had something to do with it, not saying anything else, clearly because he doesn't want to talk about it.

All his workers notice the down and serious mood of the next boss, as it is also noticeable that he doesn't want to talk to anyone and doesn't want anyone to talk to him more than necessary, so he just locks himself in his office to continue with his work.

But as soon as he starts his work day, inevitably having that hope by looking at his phone screen from time to time that you will call or text him, Eleanor calls him and warns him that he has a meeting in ten minutes with his grandsire.

This makes his mood worse, even though he knew it would only be a matter of time, but he reluctantly gets up and heads for the conference room.

And the moment Otto enters the room, clearly with his annoyed and frustrated face, the whole place fills with tension. And when Otto makes it clear to him that he is not happy at all, still Aemond maintains an emotionless and indifferent face.

"I can't believe how irresponsible you're being, truly."

Otto begins to say with incredulous surprise and a frown on his face, watching him completely annoyed.

"I asked you for one, just one thing on your trip to Casterly Rock."

"The only important thing on that trip was to attend my meeting with Jason Lannister and also the conference with the board of directors, in both of which I did perfectly well," Aemond says still completely indifferent.

"Don't you want to play dumb with me, Aemond," he warns him through his teeth, "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

"Look, I'm not in the mood for this right now—

"And you think I am?" he inquires instantly, "You think I'm not tired of telling you the same old thing over and over again?" he says annoyed, "Wasn't I clear with you when I told you I didn't want Rivers to cause a scene for me again because of you and what's the first thing she does when she comes back from that trip?"

"For fuck's sake, you close your fucking contract with her!"

Explodes Aemond annoyed against him without being able to control himself anymore, tired and annoyed of him, but of course Otto also responds in the same way.

"No, this is your job! She wants you, not me! And now that you're finally done with Y/N, you can do something about it, something more than necessary, but you do nothing!"

Then again something inside Aemond snaps at the mention of your name and the breakup, leaving him completely silent and watching his grandsire with his parted lips.

Everything in his mind is still fresh, his emotions are still running high and that he has mentioned the breakup as a good thing so that he can finally whore himself out to Alys without any guilt and restraint, as his grandsire has asked him to do, only makes his gaze turn dark and one of complete anger towards him.

And Otto, as he is looking him straight in the eye, notices that change within him and in his gaze, but he doesn't move, doesn't flinch, and continues firm.

"So you know."

Aemond says in a low but firm tone, watching him intently and without even blinking, even with that dark and determined look, making Otto watch him silently for a moment, then swallowing hard and finally speaking.

"Of course I know. Just because I'm not home much, doesn't mean I'm not informed of what's going on with my family."

"And you're happy now?"

He inquires him really without much emotion, with an incredibly calm and soft tone of voice that surprises Otto, while now Aemond's gaze reflects the slight pain, watching him completely attentively, being strong and as much as he can in front of him, clenching his jaw.

And Otto says nothing, just watches him, which Aemond considers him a coward, as what he wanted so badly has finally happened and he says nothing.

"I bet you do," he answers her question for him, watching him bitterly.

Otto lets out a long breath.

"Look, I know you cared about her, and I feel sorry for you, but the company—

"No, that's not true, you don't feel the slightest bit sorry for me," he interrupts him with a disinterested tone, "She broke up with me because of you, but also because of me. And I'm sure when you found out, you were so pleased and had more hope that I would finally do something about Rivers and the association," he says dispassionately.

"Aemond, I'm just asking you to be professional and fulfill your obligations as heir to this company. I'm asking you because I care about you and because you can't get stuck thinking about a girl, instead of your job, your company."

"Don't mention her," he tells her instantly serious and with a threatening tone and look, "I don't want you to talk about her, ever again."

Otto lets out a long breath.

"Rivers has given us a warning and a deadline for you to convince her to sign those papers. She's already upset and unpleasant enough thanks to you," he tells him seriously, "This whole process has gone on long enough, so either you act now or we lose her forever. And we're not going to have the conversation again about why it's important to partner with her company, are we?"

Aemond looks away from him, completely pissed off and annoyed, and then gets up from the swivel chair, intending to finally get the fuck out of here.

"I'm talking to you."

Otto tells him in a higher tone of voice, watching him seriously.

"Yes and I've heard enough."

"You will do as I have told you and you will do it now," he warns him.

Aemond scowls at him, then puts on an annoyed and more threatening face than before, placing his hands on the very expensive refined wooden table then leaning towards him as well with his threatening posture.

"You're not going to order me around anymore."

"Aemond, do you really want to force me to do something I don't really want to?"

"Don't worry, I know you really do want to and I honestly don't care. But believe me it wouldn't be good for you, after all… I remind you that you're forgetting your place."

The fight and silence builds the tension further, as Otto and Aemond stare menacingly and defiantly at each other, each with their differences being more than clear, when suddenly the door to the conferences bursts open.

This breaks all the tension and also draws the attention of both of them, who look towards the door and under the doorway stands Rhaenyra, whom Otto observes slightly surprised and completely confused.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says as she places a soft smile, "I hope it's not something important."

Aemond turns his gaze back to his grandsire for a moment with his jaw clenched, who continues to stare at Rhaenyra confused and this time with a questioning look, showing his annoyance at the sight of her.

"No, we were done," Aemond makes clear, his voice in a serious and low tone, to turn his gaze back to her.

"And what are you doing here?"

Otto inquires Rhaenyra, who is not surprised by his attitude towards her, as she is used to it and doesn't really care.

"I came to speak with Aemond," she says then turns her gaze to her half-brother, "Your secretary told me you were here and I thought maybe you could talk to me, if you're not busy."

He nods in her direction.

"Sure," and she nods back, waiting for him as well.

But Aemond turns his gaze to his grandsire, who also looks back at him, confused and questioning to see that in his gaze he still intends to fight him with his threatening posture.

Again they both stare at each other, where Otto stares at him completely serious without saying anything and Aemond continues threatening, completely serious.

"If you pay someone to notify all the press and all the media anonymously of my breakup with Y/N or tell only Rivers to take advantage of me, believe me I will publicly announce and tarnish your image about how you tried to whore me out to Rivers with proof."

He threatens and Otto gasps for a moment.

"And i will tell worse, that she was also seeking an intimate relationship with me, a woman who has almost my twenty years on me."

And without saying anything else, Aemond leaves the room together with Rhaenyra without waiting and without hearing any answer back from his grandsire, for the first time in a long time having won the fight and leaving him completely speechless.

"What? You thought I didn't know?" he asks, "She doesn't say her age and she doesn't look nearly forty, but she is, so we don't want any of that, do we?"

He observes him expectantly,

"It will be a disastrous scandal. And it won't be good for her, nor for you and the company. I also know it won't be good for me, my mother, my siblings or my entire family. But I will do it if you leave me no choice and I won't give a fuck, because it will all have been your fault," he makes it clear.

At that moment he feels liberated and empowered, as he has finally left him in his place and has not done what he always ordered her to do, while he experiences a sense of relief and renewed self-confidence.

But unfortunately, that feeling doesn't last forever. Or at least it doesn't last once he's outside the company walls.

And that's because he's still thinking and longing for you.

He tried a few more times to try to find you, asking all the people he and you have in common where you might be or where you live now saying he needed to talk to you, but no one would give him an answer, making him miserable.

Even at work, he couldn't concentrate, because all the time he was thinking about you and if he could do his work, it was all thanks to Eleonor, who would notice his tired face and the bags under his eyes, as well as notice how hard he was trying.

She would see him drinking coffee more than usual and it worried her, but knowing how stubborn he is, she knew there was nothing she could do.

And once he got home, no one knew the sadness and loneliness that consumed him completely.

Even sometimes when he couldn't sleep, he kept looking at the selfie of you and him on his phone screen that he hasn't taken down, both of you smiling and more than happy, instantly feeling the pain in his chest and the tears about to run down his cheek.

It's going on a month since you decided to end the relationship but Aemond is still haunted by the moments you both shared and the 'what ifs' that haunt his mind.

Every day, the pain of the breakup seems to increase rather than decrease. At every moment of distraction, also at work or doing the most ordinary thing in life, like making a coffee, Aemond gets lost in his thoughts, remembering you.

And in every memory, he blames himself for what had gone wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have acted differently and done more for both of you, for you.

And he couldn't accept that he would simply never see you again, that it was all over, he needs you and he needs you so badly every time he starts crying and blaming himself at the same time.

He feels completely trapped in the memory of what the relationship was and feels unable to get over you, the woman who had and still means everything to him.

It is not until Rhaenyra and her mother began to notice Aemond's instability and begin to worry about him that even Helaena decides to fly to King's Landing to be there for him, reporting everything to Aegon.

And fortunately Aemond doesn't push her away when she visits him by surprise, telling him that she has come to stay with him as long as necessary.

And he hugs her tightly and cries on her shoulder, asking her not to leave him alone, to please help him recover you, that he needs you, that he understands that everything was his fault but that he deserves at least one more conversation with you.

The people Aemond cares about are there for him, even Rhaenyra, but Helaena is the one who is almost all the time with him at home and also at the company, running the Highgarden company from there, helping him heal at the same time.

Unfortunately you never responded to Helaena's messages, neither to Baela's.

So even though it hurts Helaena to see her brother like this, she knows that you are hurt too, she knows your reasons why you did what you did and she doesn't blame you for it.

But Aemond can't.

And though he doesn't know it and doesn't even think about it, you are just as or worse off than he is, trying just as hard as he is to cope with the breakup, barely being functional in your day to day life and in having enough energy, being completely broken inside.

He is still immensely in love with you and every day that goes by and he doesn't see you or hear from you, it's complete torture.

He even stopped being seen in public and stopped attending events, focusing entirely on the company and nothing else.

It's not until another full month passes that one day, when Aemond wakes up to find Helaena in the kitchen with her face completely pale, her eyes wide open and her lips parted with her phone in hand, she gives him the news that he knew would happen someday but still takes him by surprise.

His father has died.

And he knows what that means, everyone knows.

He is the successor and literally overnight, he is now the boss, officially. And with that begins the real chaos for Aemond Targaryen.

It was a moment he was looking forward to but at the same time not because of the great responsibility that would fall on him, all the great weight.

But first of all, the whole Targaryen family is busy with a funeral and taking an indefinite rest, all of them and him especially hiding from the press and everyone.

1 month later

"So…

Speaks the calculated voice of Alys Rivers with a condescending tone, looking expectantly at Otto Hightower in front of her as she slowly turns in the swivel chair she is sitting in, having her uncle Larys Strong next to her, who in comparison to her is calmer.

"He won't show up?"

She inquires as she fiddles with the pen in her hand, twirling it between her fingers with her perfectly painted dark scarlet fingernails, raising an eyebrow in Otto's direction.

"Of course he will, he knows how important this is to us," he tells her immediately, "It's just that with the death of his father, he and his siblings still need a little more time. It's been very recent still."

"We still mourn the death of Viserys Targaryen," Larys Strong says in a soft tone and Otto nods in his direction.

But Alys is not at all pleased, for months now.

"We've been waiting for almost fifteen minutes."

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, honestly—

The door suddenly opens, interrupting Otto and drawing the attention of the three in the conference room who turn their heads and see Aemond entering the room unhurriedly and calmly.

"Sorry for the delay," he says as he approaches his place, "I was taking an important call."

Rivers instantly looks at him in a penetrating manner as she continues to fiddle with the pen in her fingers, while his grandsire watches him seriously.

"More important than this?" hisses Otto quietly through his teeth.

And still not caring, he takes a seat to adopt an equally nonchalant posture, looking even annoyed that he has to be in this room with these people, causing Rivers stress and frustration, as well as his grandsire for his attitude and lack of interest.

"Yes."

Aemond replies to him without dissimulation and without caring.

"I don't think you have understood the gravity of the matter, Mrs. Targaryen," Alys Rivers speaks, catching the attention of the three, looking directly at him, "I gave you a deadline to sign the association papers and you still haven't given me one good reason why my company should be associated with yours."

Aemond shrugs, observing her indifferently.

"That my company is the most important, innovative and efficient in the entire country is not reason enough for you?"

"That's not what I meant."

"We're talking about business and what's in the best interest of our companies, aren't we?"

Rivers clenches her jaw.

"I think you know perfectly well that a partnership requires more than that, it's also about building interpersonal relationships."

"As far as I know, you are a co-owner of Riverlands Group and the one who actually founded the company was you, Larys Strong," he observes the man, "You shouldn't decide if you want to sign these papers or not?"

Otto throws daggers at him with his eyes and an utterly deadly stare, but Aemond doesn't even notice, as well as Rivers starts to get annoyed. So before Larys Strong can speak, she speaks first.

"We both work as a team and make decisions together," she tells him instantly, wanting to make it clear.

"You seem to make all the decisions."

"Aemond—

"As far as I know, it's not in your best interest to lose this opportunity to be able to partner with my company," Rivers speaks with a firmer, more serious and determined tone, "And I've been very patient and accessible for months now."

"Also as far as I know, months ago we attended an event together and it was you who announced how proud you were to have a partnership between us in process to everyone, yet you are the one who hasn't signed the papers, so what exactly is it that you need or want from me or the company for you to sign them?"

He dares in asking with a challenging tone and look, watching her completely intently, wanting to know how bold she is, pushing her a little to say or not to say what she really wants from him.

As Otto hides in his chair and holds a hand to his face, not being able to believe this is really happening.

And Rivers looks completely serious and annoyed at Aemond, who starts to look amused by his lack of response. So the next thing he does is point to the contracts on the table in front of him, extending them to both of them.

"So… do we have a deal or not?"

He inquires, not wanting to waste any more time and wanting to get this over with once and for all, watching them expectantly.

Strong and Rivers exchange a glance, where Rivers still has his serious and annoyed look, but also has something else on his mind after fully analyzing this new Aemond now that he is he boss.

So he silently nods in his uncle's direction, making Strong extend his hand to place the papers in front of him to sign them.

But just as his fingertips touch the paper, Aemond abruptly puts them back in front of him, leaving them out of his reach, drawing the attention of all three instantly and more so of his grandsire who already feels completely relieved after so much.

But Aemond's attitude is alarming just then.

"Before you sign, I need to tell you something important."

All three of them frown, especially his grandsire.

"And it can't be after the two finally sign?" he inquires without having the patience for any more of this.

Aemond lets out a long breath, looking at his grandfather and then Rivers directly, wanting to be completely clear with his words.

"I want you to know that in another occasion I would have really appreciated having the opportunity to work with you and partner with your company, I really would," he tells her honestly, "But you never acted the right way, neither did you," he turns to his grandsire to focus back on Rivers, pausing slightly, "So I don't need this association anymore."

Surprise and disbelief completely takes over the three of them, but more so on Rivers and Otto, who exchange confused and puzzled looks.

"Aemond, what are you saying?" his grandsire inquires.

"I'm saying that I don't care and I'm not going to do what you tell me anymore nor am I going to let people like you intrude into my personal life," he then tells Rivers with determination.

Rivers looks at him completely offended.

"Me intruding in your personal life? What are you talking about?"

"I think you know perfectly well what i'm talking about, so since you have nothing more to do here, I'm sorry for wasting too much of your time, but you can go now."

His grandsire looks at him in complete surprise and disbelief.

"Aemond—

"If you think I'm going to sit here and allow this treatment of me by you, you are very wrong, I will not tolerate it for another second," Rivers says, getting up from her chair, annoyed and offended, "You need me but this is your loss. Let's see how long it takes before your company goes bankrupt and you lose everything."

Aemond lets out a bitter laugh.

"No, in fact I don't need you," he makes it clear, amused, "And if I needed you, believe me I wouldn't have partnered with you even as my last option," he tells him decisively, "Do you think you're the only company that has partnerships with Essos? Not only you, but also Rodrik Greyjoy, the owner of the Pike company in the Iron Islands, my new partner".

He says and Otto Hightower looks on in complete surprise, not expecting that at all. And this only causes more anger and indignation in Alys Rivers.

"You're going to regret this," Rivers tells him humiliated and annoyed as she grabs her purse and then heads for the exit with big strides, "And my company is never going to be associated with yours, ever!"

"Have a nice day."

Aemond tells her not forgetting his manners and the doors slam shut with a loud slam that still doesn't completely flinch, then looks at his grandfather who looks like he's going to explode at any moment.

"You can leave too," he tells her nonchalantly, rising from his seat, "I've had enough of this shit. I expect your resignation by tomorrow at the latest."

"My resignation?" he repeats, completely bewildered and surprised.

"Yes, your resignation," he affirms him" "Rhaenyra will now take your place while Daemon is left running Dragonstone."

"W-what…? Aemond, you can't do this! I helped you, I supported you, I broke my back for you, I made you what you are now and I put you where you are!"

"Actually yes I can and in fact I already have," he says dispassionately, heading for the exit, "I'm the boss now."

And even hearing their protests and shouts, he leaves the room with him following, causing a huge scene, but once he makes his way to his office, he slams the door in his face and asks Cole to take him out of here immediately and he instantly complies with his order.

And when Aemond sits in his chair, he lets out a long sigh and closes his eye as he drops his head completely on the backrest, no longer feeling that weight on his shoulders and that tension he felt every day all over his body, finally feeling free, relieved and at peace.

It honestly feels good, after so long.

And he sees the positives of him finally being the boss, as he can now do these kinds of things, things he couldn't do before and finally give him that needed balance to his life and work.

But as soon as he leaves his work space and gets home, he again feels that emptiness in his chest and that sadness, not feeling full and like him, knowing full well that you are missing for his life to finally be perfect.

He wishes he could have done all this with you by his side. He still wants to fix everything between him and you, but you being off his radar, it's just impossible.

And he still loves you too much to use money to try to find out where you are, knowing he couldn't do that to you, the woman he still loves with every fiber of his body and heart.

He still misses you, very much. He wants to have one more reason to be this new person he has become, a better person really.

But he respects your decision, even though he still thinks he deserved more.

That same day he sends a message to Helaena asking her when she will come to King's Landing and if she wants to stay with him at his house and that same day at night he receives a message from Floris Baratheon, a friend he and you have in common, finally things being in his favor.

The moment he so deserved arrives when Floris invites him to a pub in the center of the city to celebrate his birthday. And since he knows you and Floris are close friends, he knows you'll be there.

You thank the driver for dropping you off at your destination after paying him, then you get out of the car, close the door and head towards the entrance of the pub that Floris has chosen to celebrate his birthday.

Today you don't know what's wrong with you, as you suddenly have a very positive mood and attitude that hasn't been seen in you for months, clearly since what happened that day.

But today you have all the willingness to have fun, celebrate with Floris, have a couple of drinks and see what else the night takes you to, you really need it.

So you open the door of the pub to enter, instantly ringing that typical bell that announces a new customer, which draws the attention of some people already inside the place, but you focus on finding Floris and his friends at all the scattered tables.

"Y/N!"

Suddenly someone shouts your name and you turn your head, seeing that it's Floris, calling you from the table they are at and you start to smile, about to head towards all of them, when suddenly, your gaze crosses with a blue eye that you know all too well among all the people at the table.

A blue eye you haven't seen for months.

And your whole world around you fades away.

You freeze completely and a shiver runs down your entire back as you stare at him in shock, attentively and with your lips parted, definitely not expecting to see him, at all.

Your heart starts pounding, your legs turn to jelly and your throat goes dry. You don't know what to do, let alone what to say, you just can't speak or react, nothing.

You don't feel any more that mood of before, that disposition and that attitude, you simply feel like a little girl who wants to hide behind her mother's legs.

The memories of the relationship, the happy moments, the painful moments, everything you went through together comes back to you in an instant. Just as you remember that day, when it all ended, feeling sick to your stomach, suddenly no longer feeling strength in your whole body.

You feel completely trapped in a sea of emotions flooding your mind. The feelings that you had tried to suppress for months, now overwhelm you.

But not only does your whole history with him come back to you, you are also affected by seeing him again physically after so many months because you had not even seen him through a photo on the social media after the breakup.

And to see him now after the passing of his father and that he is now the owner of the most important company in the country, is just more of a surprise for you.

You try not to let the surprise be so noticeable on your face, although you probably already failed at it, seeing now his gorgeous short platinum hair, giving him a completely different air and look, although not in a bad way.

So you assume that those are the reasons why now he has changed. You can't say the same for yourself as he has really changed, physically.

You had never imagined an Aemond with his hair cut short, you never thought about it and now seeing it… it makes you feel a sensation all over your body that you really can't explain.

He looks more… mature and like… an expert in business, which is what he really is. He looks even younger for his age, also more handsome. He looks like a big businessman.

Unable to help yourself, you still can't move, just standing there, clearly affected after seeing your ex-boyfriend again, who Floris immediately jumps to your rescue, while at the same time you see how Aemond says something under his breath to Liam, a friend of his and also yours, to then get up and head towards the bathroom without looking any further in your direction.

You follow him with your gaze, swallowing hard and starting to tremble, while Floris stops in front of you with a small reassuring smile.

"Hey, I'm so happy you came."

She hugs you and you let her, as you really need it and she knows you need it too.

"Easy," she murmurs comfortingly in your ear, "You've got this, take a deep breath."

You blink, as if to clear your thoughts that way, then drop your head defeatedly on her shoulder, inhaling deeply, as she has told you to.

"I'm sorry," she tells you with some pity, feeling your body tense, "The guys mentioned it to him but he said I still wouldn't tell him anything, so in order not to make him feel bad, I decided to invite him too," she tells you sadly.

"No, no, it's okay."

You tell her instantly, turning away to watch her, seeing Floris as your eyes are full of emotions and with effort, you try to nod and understand her, although you really do, since after all, Floris is not only your friend, she is also his friend and you can't blame her, you would never do that.

"I-I… I… I know, I just… I didn't expect it," you confess, trying to compose yourself.

At least he's out of your sight now and that helps a little but still, you know he'll be back soon.

Floris takes your hands gently, offering you his physical support that she hoped would be enough for you in comforting you.

"I know it's all still very fresh in your mind, so if you need to leave, that's fine with me, I'll understand perfectly, don't worry."

"No, no, I mean, yes, it all still feels very fresh but…" you let out a long breath, "Sooner or later it was bound to happen, you know? And it's your birthday!" you exclaim out of nerves, "I-I can't just leave, I-I…" you bite your lips, "Happy birthday, by the way."

Floris smiles.

"Thank you bestie."

You smile back as best you can, still feeling your mind working at full speed, your body feels it more tense than usual and you unconsciously keep on the lookout for him, because he might come back at any second.

You give her the gift you bought for her, then she gives a few words of motivation and finally she leads you with almost everyone to the table.

You greet old friends and also meet other friends of Floris, trying to look calm and relaxed at all times, when in reality, inside you are a bundle of nerves and not calm at all, not at all.

You can see that all your friends… and Aemond's friends too, know that he and you are no longer together, which causes you some discomfort, but for Floris, you decide to face it, him too.

"At any point in the evening you can leave if you need to, really," she reassures you again before you take a seat and you nod in her direction, understanding.

Meanwhile Aemond in the bathroom leans fully into the sink as he breathes through his mouth and closes his eye for a moment, trying to calm himself, letting a sigh escape his lips.

He honestly doesn't understand what has happened to him.

He thought he could, that this is all he's ever wanted so he could have you back with him, but… when he barely laid his eye on you the moment you walked into the place with five meters in front of him, he felt like he was going back to the past.

For all these months, even yesterday, I was waiting for this moment. He was waiting to see you again, to try to talk to you, to try to get you back and now?

He just felt like a scared little boy.

His heart broke into pieces again as he remembered that day, when you decided to break up with him.

And how he felt at that moment, besides the weeks after when he tried to look for you and you wouldn't let him and blocked him from everywhere, he relived it again, feeling every emotion, remembering every tear he shed and all the other pressures he had on him because of his grandsire.

Not to mention the death of his father and his promotion in the company, all in a matter of days, making everything worse.

And although everything is totally different now, he still recognizes that he did not prepare for this moment.

Everything still hurts him, he no longer feels capable, he feels that you will break his heart again, although no more than he broke yours, where he did nothing about it, he only asked for forgiveness, as if that was enough.

Aemond looks at his reflection and tells himself that he must keep calm, keep his posture and not make this any more uncomfortable than it already will be.

But at all times he has this longing in his heart to be able to get you back.

While you now find yourself sitting, having a place at the big table, basically at the other end, away from where he is sitting, trying to calm yourself down from now on, although it is costing you a lot.

And not a moment too soon, Floris places a beer in your hand, murmuring in your ear that your mind needs to stop thinking and worrying too much.

And just as you take a sip, Aemond returns.

You try not to look at him too much, just the same way he tries not to look at you too much as he takes a seat next to Liam again, but unconsciously it's impossible.

The table by the others is full of laughter, while the pub is full of music, with a party atmosphere that really contrasts with your whirlwind of emotions and also with his.

Even though you don't want to, yet when he doesn't notice, you watch him. And this frustrates you. You want to enjoy Floris' birthday, but you can't help the tension you emanate along with him even though they are extreme to extreme.

Every time his gaze meets yours, you avert yours to the other side, nervous and alert, telling yourself that you can't let this disturb you for the entire time you'll be here.

"We're just here to celebrate Floris."

You repeat to yourself in your mind constantly.

On the other side, Aemond's mind doesn't stop spinning. Every time his eye meets yours, he feels a knot in his stomach and in order not to feel too much, he takes a sip of his beer as well and tries to appear unconcerned.

You both feel completely vulnerable, you don't want to make the atmosphere more tense and uncomfortable, so you make an effort to think about Floris and his friends.

You try to distract yourself by talking to other friends, talking to Floris and observing the whole place, but Aemond is always on your mind.

And even though you shouldn't, you ask yourself inevitable questions, unable to control it.

How is he doing?

How is he coping with the fact that he is now the boss?

Did he suffer a lot because of his father's death?

Must he hate me for ending things with him like that?

Did the association with Alys Rivers' company happen?

You let out a long breath, hating your mind at that moment, but you also inevitably begin to answer those questions with assumptions.

You assume he must be fine, since he's here, which surprises you since he didn't have time for almost anything before, so his new position at the company must give him a little more free time, although you don't really know.

You think about whether he must hate you for breaking his heart in such a cruel way, taking advantage of the fact that he had to leave to get on his plane and you guess he must still be seeing Rivers, even the breakup probably made things easier.

You bite the inside of your cheek and scold yourself, since you don't really know anything and take a long swig from your beer bottle, having had enough of you.

Aemond, on his own, in his mind was trying to find a reason or a good excuse to approach you, but he couldn't find the right moment. He wished the words would flow naturally, but every time he imagined a conversation, he felt blocked and unable to utter a word.

As the night progresses, the tension between the two persists, but fortunately it also becomes a little more bearable.

Although you have not spoken and have only exchanged glances, you had taken an important step in facing the past in that same place. But although the purpose was to have fun, neither he nor you did, it was impossible and you just sat in your places for Floris, nothing else.

Luckily everyone else didn't feel uncomfortable or tense because of you two, as little by little the table fills up with more drinks, the guys and he also smoke, the music helps and most of them are getting drunk, except him and you.

Until the hours go by, it's a little past midnight and already some people are starting to leave, Floris' night of celebration slowly coming to an end.

When only Floris, Liam, Sarah, Jenna, him and you are left, therefore, Floris considers the night over. And that's your cue to leave, so you say goodbye to her and everyone except him, taking the opportunity to leave the pub as you see him busy asking for a cigarette.

As you leave the pub, you lean against the wall with your phone in hand and the Uber app on the screen, waiting for a driver to accept your ride, but it keeps asking you to wait every long minute, making you feel desperate and worried.

You know it's only a matter of time before they and he come out and see you here and that's what you don't want.

But luck in that regard is not in your favor.

After continuing to wait for five more long minutes, you grunt under your breath in frustration as the application doesn't tell you anything, besides it's too much to ask for but you don't blame that either as you recognize that your dorm is far from here and you also take the time into consideration.

When then, Floris and all of them leave the pub, instantly her and also him noticing you.

Floris instantly turns to you and you give her a tired and distressed look.

"What's wrong?" she asks you in a low voice.

You bite your lips as you stare at your phone in frustration and answer her in a low voice as well.

"No driver accepts my ride. I don't know what to do."

"Well, Aemond has offered to drive us," she tells you with some caution and even in a low voice, "I'm sure he'll have no problem driving you too."

And here's just what you didn't want.

"No, I-I…" you let out a long breath, "Maybe I should try another app or walk a little further."

"Have you lost your mind?" she reproaches you in a whisper.

"I'm not going to ask him to drive me too," you clarify, frustrated and sad, "I've had enough."

"Come on, Y/N. I'll ask him."

Aemond, actually hears everything from a distance and realizes the situation, so he notices how Floris watches him and also how you try to watch him from the corner of your eye, noticing how you move your fingers across the screen of your phone in a desperate way.

And just then Liam speaks in his direction.

"I don't think we're all going to fit," he tells him as he points to his car.

He lets out a long breath as he pulls his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the doors.

"Get in, everyone."

He says in his voice loud enough for everyone and especially you to hear, without even looking at you, he also says it with a nonchalant tone, then starts across the street, heading to his car, which is big and spacious enough for everyone.

He listens as you and Floris speak again, but it's not so audible to him anymore, with the others following him to the car as well.

Tonight hasn't been the best, neither was the way you both ended it, but he still cares about you and your well-being, as there was no way he was going to leave you here alone, at almost two in the morning.

And when he gets in the car, he thought he would have to stand still, waiting for you, to the point of having to tell you himself that he will drop you off at home, but in the end he sees you following Floris with a look that he can't really describe.

Liam gets in as co-pilot and all the girls settle in the back seats, you too.

And pretty soon he's driving through the city, watching you in the rearview mirror from time to time, unable to help himself, while you watch him too when he doesn't notice, biting the inside of your cheek and feeling completely nervous.

And you don't know if it was intentional, but it really wasn't, Aemond just started asking for directions and those who had their houses closest to them spoke, leaving Sarah first, then Floris, Liam and at the end there's Jenna and you.

"My dorm is in Walden Residence, it's on the first block of the university," she indicates to Aemond and then she looks at you, "You live in a dorm too?"

You nod, feeling unable to speak.

"In which residence?"

You swallow hard, as you lick your lips.

"Westbridge."

"Oh! Then you'll drop me off first, her dorm is further in the back," she says to Aemond, who starts the car again.

Oh fuck.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @n4forlife @iamavailablesstuff @ttkttt @elliaze @trshngyn @tsujifreya @imsoshygirl @watercolorskyy @kckt88 @zenka69 @yentroucnagol @crispmarshmallow @bellastwd @queenofshinigamis @strangersunghoon @happinessinthebeing @iloveallmyboys @twobluejeans @siriusdumblittlepuppy

taglist next part:

@anehkael @randomstory56 @crazylokonugget @minttea07

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen angst

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renranram · 3 months

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baby making with quackity. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Baby Making!

q. version ヘ⁠（⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠）⁠ヘ

nsfw!

this is quackity version of my schlatt one!

word count: 1976!

( i made him speak spanish, i apologize please just use google if you're struggling with understanding, also do correct me if im wrong enjoy!! )

the discussion of having children hasn't came up to you and alex’s relationship, both of you are aware of the large responsibilities it came with

but god forbid alex quackity having a tiktok account, his fyp filled with baby videos that he couldn't help but coo to

“ after marriage “ that's two of you agreed to, after marriage then children, but can't the man just dream?

the boy had been giving you subtle hints, during one time, on live, his viewers notices a pair of baby shoes and started spamming about it, “ oh this? “ he picks up the small shoes, beige brown

< ilikemymenlikequack: is (y/n) pregnant??

< quackadoodledoo: ALEXIS FATHER ERA?

< husbandkosialex: WOI OMG??

“ chat, (y/n) isn't pregnant yet, i just found these on amazon and thought it was cute, “ alex shows off the baby shoes, fixing his beanie with a smile, “ id like to be a dad one day tho “

and it continued, “ chat, isn't this cute? “ alex asks, showing off semi realistic baby doll, one that was given to him during twitchcon, “ it looks so fucking cool “ he chuckles

“ id want this baby to be real in the future “ alex adds, chuckling, and it continued, giving you simple hints, such as baby toys, clothes, and sudden talks of marriage

“ so…. when do you think we'd get married? “ alex looks at you, as you cook dinner for the two of you, “ what? you wanna get married? “

“ when you want to of course, “ he spun on your counter's chair, “ i mean i think it's cute just the two of us having a wedding, rings in both of our fingers, then we can show off to everyone that we're so in love “ he rambles, shrugging his shoulder

you chuckle, “ we're not even fiances yet? “ you face him, turning off the stove as you serve up the dish in plates, “ well, we will be in the future “ alex replies

“ well… i think marriage with you would be great, would be happy and satisfied with my life, but aren't we still young? “ you added as alex makes his way on your dining table, “ hm… right… what about babies? “ quackity asks non chalantly

“ what about babies? “ you repeat, wanting him to get straight to the point, deadpanning him, your hand resting on your hip

“ you know… babies…? “ alex awkwardly chuckles as he scratches the back of his head, “ i know what babies are “ you reply

“ lex… is there something you need to tell me? “ you ask, removing the apron from your torso, hanging it somewhere as you approach him

cupping him by his cheeks, you ask, “ is there something wrong that we need to talk about? “ god, that was one of the reasons why he just wants to marry you right there right now

“...i wanna… get you pregnant “ alex confesses, sighing in defeat as he leans more onto your touch, “ i dont think i can wait after marriage�� i wanna see you in cute maternal clothes…, feeding our baby, babying them, i know you'd be the perfect mother, fuck, you're the perfect wife id ever ask for even tho we're not even married yet, it's just… i know i sound selfish and desperate but fuck, “ alex returns your affection by cupping your cheek too, “ i love you so much that i think i wanna make babies with you to show off how much i love you “

alex pecks your cheek, “ i love you so much, i just wanna show you off with our baby in your stomach “ he added, “ can we do it? please? “ he pleaded, “ i know if you think it's too much, but let me be selfish for once please? “

you pause, blinking as your eyes flutter, a faint pink tint appearing on your cheeks, “ lex…, babies are big responsibilities “ you added, “ i know, that's why im working hard aren't i? “ alex replies to you, with a soft gentle tone, caressing your cheek with just his thumb, “ my money’s big enough “

“ fuck… i can marry you right now, take a flight to vegas and get married to that stupid elvis chapel you keep joking about “ alex smiles warmly and affectionately

“ please? mami? “ alex pleaded, and dear lord how you folded so fast, now there's the two of you, making out with small giggles and chuckles

it was warm, gentle and comfortable for the both of you as alex gently pressed you against your bedroom’s door, his tongue swirling with you, making out as if it's your first time again, his hands, rests on your waist, holding on you gently on your place

“ mami you're so beautiful “ he whispers between the kisses, fixing your hair out of your face, before pulling you into a kiss again, your hands resting on his chest as you take the kiss, your lips locked with eachother, passionately and warmly

alex slowly slips his hand in your blouse, resting in your midriff, “ vas a ser una gran mamá para nuestros hijos “ he whispers, pecking your cheek as you giggle softly in response, “ baby… is that why you've been ordering baby stuffs off amazon? “ you ask as he chuckles, nodding, “ i was hoping you'd get the hint “

“ im kinda hints-blinded “ you joke as he chuckles, pecking your neck, trailing kisses all over you, “ i should've told you from the start then “ he added, “ would've been a better idea “ you smile, giggling loudly as he picks you up, holding onto you gently yet tightly, securing his grip on your hand as he press kisses all over your face, “ mami, you're the only person i can think of doing this with me “ alex hums, gently setting you down on your bed, his eyes hovering all over your body as he smiles warmly, seeing you all so pretty underneath him

alex removes his shirt, tossing it to the side, and he leans back down with you, “ mami, i want a little girl, she's going to be as beautiful as you, “ he cuts himself off with a kiss to your collarbone, “ as smart as you, “ he kisses your upper chest, gently guiding you to take off your top, before continuing, “ as kind as you “ alex pecks your chest, “ as friendly as you “ he pecks your stomach, his hand resting on the waistband of your shorts, gently tugging it down with your underwear

“ as perfect as you are “ alex lowers, now pecking on pelvis, “ alex… didn't know you're shakespeare “ you joke, giggling, causing him to chuckle in response, “ oh fuck off mami im trying to be romantic here “ he added, smiling warmly, his eyes filled with love and adoration as he fixes your hair

“ im… going to make you feel so loved “ alex replies as he nuzzles his mouth onto your clitoris, liking a strip on your warm organ with smile on his lips, “ you already make me feel so love lex “ you reply as her intertwines his hand with yours, the other holding you up

“ it's not enough “ alex replies as he kisses your clit, sucking it, lapping you, nuzzling his warm tongue, “ it is enough “ you mutters, moaning softly as you squeezes his hand

“ not for me that is, “ as alex eats you out, his finger gently enters you, feeling your wetness and tighness as you moan softly, alex finding a moment as he playfully scolds you, “ can you stop being such a smartass so i can fuck you, querido dios por favor “

you cackle, giggling as he smiles warmly, his finger thrusting into you with his tongue wetting you all up, you toss your head back, moaning softly as your other hand kneads with your breast

alex maintains eye contact, giving you heart eyes with every reaction you could possibly release, god, that man is so in love with you, chuckling softly, seeing how you gasp when he enters another finger in, admiring how you squeezed his hand in response

“ hah… lex “ you whimper out as his fingers skillfully scissors you, “ does it feels good mami? “ he asks, lapping you like a damn dog, enjoying your slickness as you nods, your finger dancing gentle with your nipples, kneading you breast as the other squeezes his hand

after a few minutes of sucking, fingering, you felt a familiar pool in your stomach as you gasp, “ lex.. lex.. im close “ you moan out, louder than the rest as alex nods, kissing your clitoris as he fastens his finger, causing you a few sharp gasps

“ do it mami, make a mess to my face “ alex reassures you, licking a stripe as you groan out in pleasure, seeing your legs shake, and with a squirt of your juices in his face, alex accomplished what he wanted, even tho, that was just the first step

he pecked your clit one last time, before pulling away, you making a mess on his face as he giggles, watching you whine out as he pulls out his finger, “ so pretty, mi linda esposa “

seeing him chuckle and smile, couldn't help but bring a smile on your face too, you just couldn't believe you're making a baby with the man you've loved for years, alex as gently as possible, spreaded your legs, propping himself between it as he pecks the side of your ankle, releasing your intertwined finger as he whistles in amusement seeing you all so flustered and pink

“ i love you “ alex mutters as he slips his pants down with his boxers, “ i love so much mami, you're going to be such a pretty and perfect wife and mamá to our daughter “

as he worships your body, his eyes not letting a single crevice of your body left untouched or unloved, he hums as he gently enters your body, the two of you gasp in unison, “ you alright mami? “ he asks, making sure you felt pleasure instead of pain, his almond shaped brown eye watches you, filled with adoration and love as you bit your lip, nodding

“ im moving, ¿bueno?, tell me if it hurts, ill stop mami “ alex gently warns as his hips roll against you gently, watching you moan out, your eyes fluttering in pleasure, enjoying how your body bounces with every single thrust

you chuckle softly, a warm intimate moment like this was just perfect, he was perfect for you, a pretty, gentle, kind boy who'd do everything, just to make you feel loved, if you were to switch places and had the dick, you'd probably do the same

you moan out, as he leans down, kissing you, his arm wrapped around your torso, flattening you as his thrusts continues, his tongue swirling with yours, feeling the smile on his lips

your lips stayed intact, only pulling away for taking breathes, noticing his thrusts speeding up as he groans, “ te amo mucho, seré la esposa más bonita que jamás haya existido “ he whispers, as you moan back in reply

“ te amaré por siempre y te adoraré como si fueras mi dios, te amo mucho, no puedo creer que seas mía y que estemos haciendo esto “ he added, alex groans out as he holds onto tightly

“ feels so good mami? “ alex mutters, staggering slightly as you nod in response, moaning, as you gasp

“ ah fuck.. fuck… im so close “ alex gasps, “ let me be selfish this time, ¿está bien? “ he added as he tightens his hold onto you, his hips thrusting faster and faster, your moans and gasps giving him more power to just get you pregnant right there

“ fuck fuck fuck fuck “ with every curse his thrusts was speeding up, kissing you all over your face as you receive him, “ será la esposa más bonita que jamás haya existido, ¿eh? “

“ te luciré muy bien en casa, todos se sorprenderán de lo bonita que eres cuando estás embarazada, ¿de acuerdo? “ he groans out, catching his high as he climaxes into you, filling you up with his seed, making you a mother

#quackity fluff #quackity x you #quackity fanfic #quackity smut #quackity x reader #quackity #alex quackity x reader #alexis quackity #alex quackity #quackity x reader smut #smut #qsmp fanfiction #qsmp quackity #qsmp

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