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#still sometimes it sours my mood
chuluoyi · 6 months
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Wait you have copycats? I never knew :0 I mean, actually thinking about it, its not very suprising since youre an amazing writer
i have found a fic that is too similar with the whole plot of my fic curiosity. like i know it’s a general trope, but the setting, order of the scenes and some of the dialogues are literally the same. if that’s not copying, i don’t know what that is😐
tropes are not owned by anyone—different writers can write about the same trope and that’s perfectly okay, but if plot points, sequences and lines are the same then i still consider it as copying :’)
and nonnie you’re too nice i’m not amazing honestly *sobs* but thank you sm🥹
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katierosefun · 1 year
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hm maybe i’m going to get flack for this, but i genuinely don’t understand how some self-claimed fic lovers can be the same people who a) pressure and harass writers into producing more and more stories, regardless of their current health or personal lives, b) pressure writers when they aren’t updating fast enough, again, regardless of their current health or personal lives, and c) now, apparently, feed their supposedly beloved writers’ stories into ai bots. it’s becoming incredibly disheartening and clear that some folks don’t care so much about writers and really care exclusively about feeding whatever greedy need they have to just consume.
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giddlygoat · 3 months
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i really wish my memory functioned and that people would stop telling me “look on the bright side, at least you’ll forget your painful experiences too” because. nah. i’ve had people who hurt me horribly call me up years later only for me to greet them like old friends because i literally could not remember why we stopped talking. all my confidence goes out the window when i have to make an argument because i can’t for the life of me remember where my sources are from, if they’re legitimate, whether or not i dreamed it up…
and even beyond that, shouldn’t i get to recall the wonderful experiences in detail, too? i went to bronycon in 2019 and it rewired my brain a bit for the better. hell if i can remember more than a few details. that’s unfair.
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aloftmelevar · 2 years
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this day has been absolute ass
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lowkeyremi · 5 months
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𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ! (Pt 2 here)
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pairing: suna, tsukishima, ushijima, osamu, sakusa, and iwaizumi x fem!reader (separate) note: thank you for the request @nicoleisdumb ! this was so fun to write and a nice refreshing break from jjk :3 miss writing abt these boys. summary: You forgot date night ! Oops... now your man is ignoring you?? How are you gonna fix this? content: slight angst to fluff, established relationships (marriage for a few, hehehehehe I will always find a way to sneak babies in), cursing, kinda suggestive for kiyoomi's part. not proofread!!!! wc: 3.3k
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❥ 𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀
Rintaro is not one to usually get upset when you forget things because you're human just as he is and he forgets things all the time. He forgets his keys at home sometimes, or his wallet, sometimes he forgets his birthday, etc. (never his phone, he always has that thing).
There has never been a day that he's forgotten a date or an anniversary to your surprise. Lately, though, work has consumed both you and your boyfriend. He was handling it better though, because when you'd get home you would immediately collapse onto the bed and fall asleep. Rintaro would make sure to change you into something more comfortable and at least clean your face with a warm, wet cloth and your face wash.
Today was no different from any others. As soon as you remove your shoes and lay in the bed, all of your problems don't matter anymore. It was only around 7 pm then.
The morning had arrived in a blur. Finally, you had a day off. This morning is off though, because you don't wake up with a set of pajamas on or Rin's t-shirt. That was your first clue to something being off.
The second clue was the fact that he is not in bed. Rin doesn't get up out of bed unless he absolutely has to. Usually, he's holding you captive in his arms. Before you investigate, you take the initiative to shower and brush your teeth. When you're in a fresh pair of clothes; a tank top and shorts, you slowly make your way into the living room, sleep still in your body.
A brown tuft of hair sticks out from under your mickey mouse blanket and a body way too big for the couch is curled up on it. Why is he sleeping on the couch?
"Rin, baby, why are you on the couch?" Silence. He's awake, you know it because of the sound from his phone that's muffled by the blanket. Is he ignoring you? There's no way... he must not have heard you.
So you speak up in case he didn't hear you the first time, "Morning, Rin!"
Still nothing. He doesn't even move. What is his problem? Your mood instantly deflates into something sour. There was a hope within you that you would finally get to spend time with him today. Be it cuddles or going out.
Since he's not talking to you, you'll just decide to make breakfast in order to pass the time and fill the silence. While breakfast is being made you try to think of things you could have possibly done to upset him.
Then it suddenly clicks... you wanted to go out with him today. He had planned to take you out yesterday. That had to be it, right?
"Rinnie was yesterday date night? I'm sorry for forgetting. I think you had tickets for something? I feel so fucking bad, baby." Sleep had instantly taken you last night that you forgot to set an alarm or something so you could remember date night.
He still didn't say anything, but he did get up from the couch to get some food. His gold eyes were cold and unforgiving.
"Rintaro. I'm really sorry. I guess my body got used to going to sleep right when I got home. I didn't even check to see if we were doing anything yesterday. I'll make it up to you, we can go out tonight?"
He's not mad at you, not anymore at least. Even though he's not mad at you, he kind of wanted to be. It's hard for him to be upset with you for too long.
"Don't fall asleep this time, sleepyhead." That familiar smile that you know so well appears on his face. It causes you to smile just as wide if not wider.
In seconds your arms are wrapped around him in a loving hug. "I won't fall asleep. Promise."
❥ 𝐊. 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀
Kei is mean and petty about it. Date night is usually something simple like Netflix and some homemade snacks or something of the sorts. Mainly because the two of you like to stay in rather than go out.
He texted you asking where you were, only for you to reply that there was some old close friend of yours visiting town, so you decided to hang out with them.
When you got home late into the night, it was a little too quiet for you. Kei is probably asleep or playing on his play station, you assume. So, without even knowing that your boyfriend is upset, you go through your whole nightly routine.
Upon entering your bedroom you see his body lying in bed, his chest rising and falling every second. "I'm home." Leaves your lips in a whisper. There is no response so you assume he's asleep.
Halfway through the night you can't sleep, at all. It's probably because your boyfriend's comforting hands aren't wrapped around you, like usual.
You softly nudge your boyfriend's side trying to ease him awake, "Kei."
After a few more tries he finally startles awake, "what?"
"I can't sleep." You whine, "I need you to hug me."
"Shoulda' thought 'bout that before you went off with your friend instead of having date night." His tone is sour, from both being woken up and from you forgetting date night.
A small gasp leaves your lips, suddenly the conversation you two had a week prior to last night floods your brain. You weren't working that day and neither was Kei, which meant you guys could have your annual movie marathon.
"I'm sorry baby, I completely forgot..." He doesn't say anything to you and you can't tell what he's thinking because his back is facing you.
With a new spring of motivation you hop out of bed to make some of your favorite movie snacks and grab your laptop, before heading back to your bedroom.
"How about a redo?" Kei turns his body to look at you, he eyes the snacks and your computer. How could he stay mad at you?
"Hurry up before I change my mind." A huge cat-like grin adorns your pretty face.
❥ 𝐖. 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀
"Daddy, why red circle?" Your little son Nao asks looking at the calendar on the fridge.
"Mommy and Daddy were supposed to go out tonight, but work called Mommy and asked her to come." Wakatoshi explains to his three year old.
The original plan was for Nao's nanny to come a little early because Wakatoshi finally had time off of work and so did you. When she came to take care of your son you two were going to go to dinner and see this new jazz group.
Wakatoshi had only told his son part of the truth, you did have to suddenly go to work but it wasn't because they called you in, it was because you requested to work late, so you could have more time off in the future.
The only reason he sugar-coded it was, because he would never want to paint you in a bad light.
The both of you have enough to support the household and live a steady life so he has no idea why you decided to go into work tonight. It seems you'd even forgotten that you were supposed to go out on a date with him tonight.
"Mommy not gettin' dinner with you?" He asks for clarity.
"Yeah, that's right." He gives the little guy a pat to the head.
"So it's just you and me. After bath time and dinner we can do something fun like watch a movie."
"We watch Dootopa?" He asks with a beaming smile on his face.
"You wanna watch Zootopia?"
"Yes yes!!!" That is his all time favorite movie. Flash the sloth is his favorite character next to Judy Hopps.
"Okay, well lets hurry up and get bath time and dinner time over with."
When you arrive home, your two favorite boys are fast asleep on the couch. You make the assumption they've been watching movies all night because Toy Story 2 is playing and neither are awake to watch it.
Nao is curled up in his father's lap, while Wakatoshi's hand is supporting him in case he falls.
You pick the sleeping little boy up in order to take him to his bed. Wakatoshi ever the light sleeper awakes when you remove Nao from his lap.
Instead of smiling and kissing you goodnight he turns the TV off and proceeds to walk straight to your shared bedroom without a word.
You quickly place your son down in his bed kissing him goodnight. You know why he's upset with you and there's an eagerness for you to fix it.
"I totally forgot about dinner, honey, I'm sorry." Those words leave your lips as soon as you enter your bedroom.
Your hurry to change into something more comfortable so you can join him in bed.
"Don't be mad 'Toshi." He grunts, his back is turned to you, so who knows what he's thinking.
Luckily for you he tends to not hold grudges.
"I'll get us a reservation at your favorite place," desperation seeps into your voice when he still doesn't answer you, "I really feel dumb for calling into work today, please cut me a break baby-"
"You aren't dumb, by any means, and I'm not mad. I'm confused." That's when you remember that Wakatoshi doesn't usually ignore you when he's upset about something.
The reason he doesn't say anything is usually because he's thinking.
You wait for him to tell you why he's confused and as you do so you sink into bed. At the point he turns over to see your face.
"I'm confused as to why you needed to work late when you already have so many days off."
"Well- I was hoping the three of us could go on vacation this summer, if the team doesn't require you to do your workouts there." His confusion is replaced with awe.
"Just ask them for days off, if they dock your pay it won't matter. We have enough to live comfortably, I promise." It feels good to finally have your man looking into your eyes again. A relieved sigh leaves your lips.
❥ 𝐎. 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀
"Forgettin' something?" Your husband asks right before you walk out the door to go to your best friend's baby shower. He's leaning against the door frame, his huge arms flex when he goes to cross them over his equally large chest.
Is there something you're forgetting? Nothing rings a bell, so you assume he means you're about to forget to kiss him goodbye.
You lean into kiss him and he kisses you back of course, but there's still a pout on his face and he doesn't look satisfied.
"I love you, 'Samu! I gotta get going before I'm late!" So you forgot about it. You forgot that tonight Osamu was supposed to take you to the shop and fix up a nice dinner for you two at your favorite table. He'd serve your favorite wine and you two would talk about the stupidest things into the early hours of the morning. He even closed early for tonight.
I mean, he can't blame you, your best friend of a lifetime is having a baby shower, and of course she wants you there. It would have made him feel a little bit better if you at least remembered it, but you didn't.
Osamu wouldn't be a Miya if he wasn't at least a little bit petty about it. He's decided he'll ignore you until you figure out that you'd forgotten about your date tonight. Maybe if he's not too sour he'll make dinner for you.
The petty man in question has been watching the clock for the past twenty minutes. You were supposed to be home by now, because it's already 8:45 pm. The baby shower started at 6 and ended at 7, so, where are you?
Just as he asks himself that question, the telltale sound of keys on the other end of the door snaps him out of his trance.
"Hey baby, I'm back!" The door swings open and your pretty face greets him.
He doesn't say anything back to you, he just pretends to be busy on his phone.
"Sorry I got back so late, I stayed to help her clean everything up." Your eyes watch your husband carefully, checking for any sign of him being upset, because he doesn't say anything yet again.
"What's wrong, 'Samu?" Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's definitely mad, now you just need to figure out why.
After a quick change into your slippers and your keys are on the rack you walk up to him, giving him a hug from behind. You rest your chin on his shoulder. He's scrolling through twitter, his personal one not the one for promoting the shop.
"Why are you sulking? You're acting like your brother." Osamu accepts his fate, you know he can't ignore you when you compare him to his brother.
"Do not compare me to that oversized baby." When he hears your beautiful laugh he almost forgets why he was upset, almost.
"Did I not tell ya that ya were forgettin' somethin' before ya left?" The question in his voice makes you think for a second.
"Was it not a kiss?" He shakes his head. Now you're completely lost.
"I was 'posed to take ya down to the shop and we were gonna eat at our table." When he finishes his sentence you gasp in remembrance. Oh shit. You forgot about date night.
"Baby, you can't possibly be telling me I had to choose you or her." He stiffens for a brief moment, then relaxes.
"Nah, I was just hoping ya'd at least remember it." A shudder rolls down his spine when you give him a small kiss on the neck.
"I'm sorry for forgetting, baby. Let's have a do ov-" Osamu doesn't allow you to finish because he scoops you up bridal style and brings you into the kitchen to set you down on the counter.
"Ya better watch me cook or I won't forgive you."
"Aye aye captian!"
"Yer so annoying." He smiles at you.
❥ 𝐊. 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀
"Bye baby! Mama and Dada love you!" Your baby girl waves at you shyly as you and Kiyoomi drop her off with her grandparents.
"I wuv you too! Bye bye Mama, bye bye Dada." Kiyoomi hugs his daughter tightly before setting her down next to her grandma.
"Alright, sweet girl, make sure to be good for nana and poppa okay?" She nods her adorable little head, the tiny ponytails you put in her hair swing rapidly.
As soon as you guys are in the car, a look of excitement flashes in your husband's eyes.
"What?" You can't help smile when he looks at you like that.
"Made us that reservation for brunch like you asked." Your smile immediately drops. You'd forgotten that you and Kiyoomi planned this whole weekend out already. You two had planned this weekend two weeks prior, which is kind of why you forgot and booked a mani-pedi for an hour from now.
"Fuckkkkk." Why do you forget the most important things?
"Kiyo, can we do dinner instead? I forgot about brunch and booked a mani-pedi because today is the only day my nail lady could fit me in."
A tension forms almost immediately when you inform him of your plans. Guilt is heavy on your stomach while listening to your husband cancel brunch over the phone. The rest of the car ride is silent except for the sound that's happening outside of the car.
Your husband is kind enough to drop you off at your nail appointment. You feel so bad as you hop out of the car, so in order to try and smooth things over you offer for him to come inside but he just mumbles a quick, "No thank you, I'll come get you when it's done."
That's how you ended up spilling everything to your nail lady. She shakes her head as she shapes the gel nails into the shape you asked for. "What's his favorite color on you, sweetheart?"
You think for a second before answering, "He loves when I get sage green." The woman gives you a knowing smile and you connect the dots as to what she's referring to.
"You want him to feel better? Take him to dinner and then give him a night to remember with those pretty nails. Works every time with my husband." She says with a mischievous smile.
Your eyes widen for a second, "Oh my- I- we haven't had time to do anything because our little girl requires most of our time, but she's with her grandparents for the weekend."
The nail lady giggles as she goes to find your color. "Honey, if that's not a sign to get laid then I don't know what is!"
When your appointment is over you see the cadillac waiting for you in the parking lot. Kiyoomi doesn't even bother to look up when you enter the car.
"Got your favorite color." You purr with a seductive smile on your face. Kiyoomi doesn't spare you a glance, "Cool."
"Stop being so mean, I'm sorry about brunch. I made a reservation for dinner." That finally baits his attention, he turns to you, a nasty look in his eyes.
"Oh I actually think I'm going to be busy, can't go to dinner." He mocks your voice to make you feel what he had felt earlier. He's being mean, but he doesn't mean it. He still kind of has this habit of getting defensive when he or his pride is hurt.
"Too busy to get a blowjob in the car after dinner?" You know you've got him when he stops breathing for a few seconds. Your husband is only a man, and what kind of man would he be to deny a blowjob from his wife?
"Shit, should have started with that. Let me see your nails." The whole time he inspects your pretty hands there's a smirk on your face.
"I love this color on you baby."
"I know you do Kiyo. Now, let's get home, we have to get ready for dinner tonight."
Having your daughter stay with her grandparents for the weekend was the best decision you guys have made in a while.
❥ 𝐇. 𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈
Hajime has been ignoring you for the past two hours and you can't figure out why.
You know you haven't done anything to piss him off recently (or so you think), so his behavior is kind of strange. Nothing you did made him listen to you either.
He doesn't even let you know he's leaving for work, which reminds you of yesterday. You were so excited to go see your cousin's puppy you'd forgotten to tell your boyfriend you'd be out for awhile.
Suddenly while you're tidying up the kitchen you briefly remember him asking you on a date... yesterday.
That's probably why he's ignoring you.
So of course, being the problem solver you are, you head to the store to get stuff to set up a nice date at home.
You decorate the table with pretty rose petals and cook his favorite meal for him. Candles light up the table and two glasses of wine are set on the table.
Hajime lets out a loud groan as he enters the house, working with a bunch of athletes all the time is quite tiring. What he doesn't expect is the dimmed lights and quiet music playing from the alexa in the kitchen.
For the first time today he talks to you, "What's all this?"
"An apology for forgetting our date last night. I set up an at home date for us." He tries and fails to look upset, still.
"I'm glad you remembered," he pauses, "the day after our date." A snort leaves his lips and you roll your eyes.
"At least I remembered. Hurry up and put your stuff up so we can eat. The food is gonna get cold."
It's safe to say he forgives with the way a lopsided grin adorns his face.
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©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!
divider: @/chachachannah
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tini5 · 20 days
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Jealousy Endeavor. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*────୨ৎ────°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*
Rafe Cameron had always known you were special. 
From the moment you two met, he could see the spark in your eyes—the kind that made you stand out from the rest. You were his precious girl, his princess, and every time you smiled, he couldn't help but feel like he had the world in his hands. 
But you weren’t the jealous type. At least, you hardly ever were. It wasn’t like you to feel threatened by someone else; after all, you knew you were Rafe’s girl, the one who owned his heart completely. 
Still, today was different. 
It all started at the country club. You were with Sarah, Topper, and Kelce, lounging by the couches when Rafe suddenly mentioned he was going to grab a drink from Sofia. Now, you knew Sofia—everyone did. But that wasn’t the issue. The problem was the way Rafe said her name, so casual, so familiar. It made something inside you tighten.
As Rafe strolled over to the bar, your eyes followed him, narrowing slightly when you saw Sofia flash him a smile that lingered just a little too long for your liking. Rafe returned it with that charming grin of his, and suddenly, your mood soured. You weren’t usually like this. Rafe was yours; you knew that. But seeing Sofia so close to him, so comfortable around him - 
"You okay?" Sarah asked, her voice light but concerned.
You plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?" you replied, your tone a bit sharper than intended. Sarah gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further.
Minutes passed, and Rafe was still at the bar. You watched as Sofia leaned over, saying something that made Rafe laugh. It wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself. She was just doing her job, being friendly with the customers. But your mind wouldn’t let it go. What could be taking so long? 
Your pout only grew more and more, and by the time Rafe finally came back with the drinks, you were in full-on sulk mode.
“Here you go, princess,” Rafe said, handing you your pink drink, completely oblivious to your  mood. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head slightly, making him miss.
Rafe paused, his brow furrowing as he looked at you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you replied, your voice clipped as you took the drink, not even looking at him.
Rafe wasn’t convinced. “You sure about that?” He tilted his head, trying to catch your gaze, but you stubbornly avoided it, staring off into the distance with a pout.
Kelce snickered from his lounge chair. “Dude, you’re in trouble,” he teased, earning a light smack from Sarah.
“Shut up, Kelce,” she whispered, though she couldn’t help but smile at the exchange.
Rafe crouched down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your knee. 
"Talk to me, baby,” he coaxed softly, his voice dripping with that tenderness he saved just for you.
You finally looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, "You looked like you were having a great time over there.”
Rafe’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. He knew better than to laugh when you were like this. “You’re jealous,” he teased, his voice low and playful.
“I am not jealous!” you snapped, though the heat in your cheeks suggested otherwise.
Rafe chuckled, unable to resist anymore. He loved this side of you, even if it drove him crazy sometimes. 
“Don’t get jealous,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You own my heart. It’s fucking yours, baby. I’m all yours.”
You bit your lip, the frustration slowly fading away as you melted under his gaze. You hated how easily he could do that to you, but you also loved it. “You better be,” you mumbled, still pouting but less convincingly now.
Rafe smiled, knowing he had you. He brushed his lips against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Always, princess. Only you.”
You sighed, finally letting your pout slip away as you leaned into him, feeling the tension leave your body as Rafe’s arms wrapped around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you close, making you feel like the most important person in the world. And you were—at least, to him.
Sarah and Topper exchanged glances, smirking at the sight. “They’re like an old married couple,” Topper joked, earning a chuckle from Kelce.
“Yeah, but they’re perfect for each other,” Sarah added with a smile, watching as Rafe kissed your forehead, murmuring sweet nothings that only you could hear.
And just like that, everything was perfect again. 
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
As Carrie Bradshaw would say : And just like that heres my second blurb about Rafe🪄
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peachessndreamss · 1 month
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Weirwood Tree
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Summery : While in labour with their second child, Cregan and his wife take s short walk to the Weirwood tree to help get things moving.
Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)
Warnings : Pregnancy and childbirth (nothing explicit)
Word count : 3k
A/N : Turns out you never shake being a Stark girl, Ily Cregan so much.
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“I’m sorry t’say it, my lady, but your labours have slowed up,” the midwife said softly as she drew the sheets back over Lady Starks bent knees before dipping her hands in a bowl of water. 
“Slowed up?” Lady Stark repeated incredulously, dropping her head back on the feather pillow, “but it's been hours already,” she added, tears burning her eyes. 
The second child of Lord Cregan stark and his lady wife was in no rush to make their way into the world. Despite the frequency and strength of her earlier pains once the midwife and maester had been sent for, everything seemed to have come to an uncomfortable halt.  
The midwife had brought her ancient grandmother along with her, known through Winterfell and the winter town as Auld Joan, she had been a midwife in her own time and had delivered Cregan's father and uncle. She was mostly blind and deaf now but still attended births but spent most of the time sitting as close to a heat source as possible and dispensing wisdom if necessary. She was currently sitting in a chair next to the roaring fire, her ancient hands clasped on her lap, knuckles bulging out of shape and fingers curled like claws. 
“I know it's been a while,” the midwife said soothingly, placing a warm hand on Lady Stark's knee, “but sometimes it's just like this,”. 
“The last one wasn't like this,” Lady Stark grumbled, her mood darkening as she tried to shift around into a more comfortable position. 
“You mustn't compare one with another,” the midwife soothed before touching a cold cloth to the lady's forehead. 
“A walk will geyit moving ,” the old woman wheezed from her seat by the fire, “no’ this lying about,”. 
The maester, who had been mostly disinterested in proceedings up until this point shot the old woman a dark look, he was standing in the far corner of the room, a leather case of vicious metal tools clutched jealously to his chest. His grey robes matched his grey and sickly looking skin. He wasn't particularly interested in births or deaths or the everyday ailments of life and resented being summoned to the birthing room of any woman. 
“This position is agreed upon as being the correct way for labouring mothers,” he said coldly in a clipped southern accent. 
“Agreed by men who know nothing about it,” the crone grumbled. 
“What does she mean?” Lady Stark asked the midwife who was now gently feeling the swell of the lady's belly. 
“Baby's not quite in righ’ place, that's why things have slowed,” she explained as she pressed on the left side of the belly, Lady Stark winced, “but grandmother thinks a little walk might get things moving again,”. 
The midwife glanced over at her grandmother who had closed her eyes and was now looking peaceful in the flickering light of the fire, she looked back at her lady and dabbed the cloth over her cheeks before putting it back beside the bowl of cold water. 
“What do you think?”Lady Stark asked. 
She shrugged, making a point not to look towards the maester before replying. 
“It helped me with mine, and it wouldn't do you any harm,”. 
The maester opened his mouth to disagree and lady stark held up her hand to silence him. 
“Just walking through the keep, out into the godswood for the fresh air should do it,” the midwife continued. 
The lady nodded and lifted herself up onto her elbows, she addressed the maester, privately enjoying ordering the sour faced man about. 
“Lord Cregan is outside the door, fetch him in,” she said. 
Cregan Stark had paced the halls outside of his wife's rooms since he'd been asked to leave them several hours before. While he wasn't accustomed to being removed from parts of his own castle he respected that father's, even lords, were not expected to be present at the births of their children,so he was surprised to hear the door opening when he was fairly certain nothing much had happened yet. 
“My Lord?” The voice of the maester echoed off the walls as the lord strode into view, “your wife would like to see you,”. 
He nodded, his face stern as he stepped past the man and into the warm, dark room. 
“Seven Hells,” he murmured as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, instantly feeling the heat of the room rolling over him like a wave, sweat breaking out on his forehead and upper lip. 
As he looked around the room he was surprised to see the midwife helping his wife into her fur boots, a long, heavy cloak already covering her shoulders. 
“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 
She turned her flushed face to him and smiled. 
“Yes, we're going for a walk,”. 
Cregan’s brows rose but he nodded without further comment, knowing better than to ask questions.  He watched nervously as the midwife helped his wife to her feet, ready to spring forward at any moment if it looked like Lady Stark might lose her balance. 
Once he was happy she was safely on her feet, Cregan stepped towards them, offering his arm to his wife, who took a small step and linked her arm through his. 
“Twice around the godswood’ll do it,” Auld Joan spoke from the chair, she opened one ancient eye that could just be seen through the folds of skin that made up her face. 
“Or as far as you need’t,” the midwife added, her eyes flicking towards the maester. 
From the darkest corner of the room the maester muttered under his breath “foolishness” but no one else could hear him or pay him a moment's more attention. 
As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell stepped out of the stifling room and into the cooler corridor of the keep they both gave a sigh of relief. As they walked they instinctively drew closer to one another. Finding comfort and strength in each other's presence. 
“This is an unexpected pleasure,” Cregan said as they stepped through the door of the keep and into the much colder air of the inner bailey. The ground was a mess of mud, straw, snow and grey brown slush that cracked and crunched under their boots. 
“Yes,” she agreed, her hand tightening on his arm as her foot slipped a little on a patch of hidden ice, “Auld Joan felt this would be the best way to get things moving again,”. 
Cregan nodded, “She's seen a fair few babes born in her time, she knows what she's talking about,” he paused and took a deep breath of cold air, “I think she might have even delivered my grandfather,”. 
“Surely not!” She exclaimed, looking up at her husband's handsome profile, “that would make her more than a hundred years old,”. 
“I've heard of stranger things in these parts,” Cregan said with a shrug. 
They walked quietly together, moving slowly and carefully through the slush.
“Not as easy as last time then?” He asked as they made their way past the archery butts where the young men of the household were practising and past the stables with their snorting horses and young boys shovelling straw. 
“No, this one seems to have an obstinate Stark streak in them already,” she replied with a soft laugh that sounded like music to Cregan's ears. 
“I seem to recall your own family are known for their stubbornness so I won't be taking all the responsibility for that,”. 
“Pigheadedness, I believe my father called it,” she replied with a laugh, Cregan gave his own snort of laughter. 
“Your father certainly has a way with words,” he agreed. Recalling a few choice phrases her father had used for him during their courtship. 
As the pair crossed into the godswood the sounds of the keep and the town beyond the walls seemed to fade away and they became the only two people in the world. The ground was covered in a dusting of snow which had frozen overnight and now crunched under foot. From the dark canopy of the trees small birds sang between themselves and bounced from branch to branch, leaves rusting and falling to the ground in their wake. 
“Aly is worried we won't have enough time for her when the baby arrives,” Lady Stark said as they passed under the first dark boughs, “she kept asking me if we were going to send her away when I was putting her to bed last night,”. 
“She's a sensitive soul,” Cregan replied with a soft laugh, his mind wandering to the little girl who was at that moment playing in the same nursery he played in as a child, waiting for his own younger sibling to be born. 
“I dread the day we do need to send her away,” she lamented, drawing her body even closer to his in the cold air. Her free hand resting low on the swell of her belly. 
“We've many years before that day, my love,” he soothed, “and perhaps many more babes to fill our home,”. 
Lady Stark laughed softly, feeling the dull ache of her labours growing in strength as they followed the well known path through the trees.
“You are insatiable, always wanting more,” she said softly and Cregan laughed. 
They had been married 6 years and now were as comfortable with one another as any married couple could expect to be. Having been friends before they’re union had made things easier but the months after Cregan’s return from war had tested them to their limits. The time spent apart had been long and difficult for the both of them, when Cregan had left he was already old beyond his years but on his return he was darker and colder than the longest winter night. He’d forgotten laughter, softness and gentleness and his first few months back in Winterfell had been fraught as the two learned to live with one another again and find their way back to the happiness they’d briefly shared before the dragons tore the realm apart. 
The followed a well trodden path through the woods, her arm wrapped tightly through his and his hand resting over hers, warm and solid. As they walked, Cregan listened to her breathing, noticing every change to her breath and hitch in her voice. He was ready to take her in his arms at any moment to rush her back to the midwife if was necessary. 
They turned a corner in the path and were now on course to the weirwood tree, its ancient face seemed to watch their approach and its blood red leaves reflected in the black water at its roots. 
Suddenly Lady Stark stopped, her free hand going to her belly with a sharp intake of breath, she groaned, her teeth biting into her top lip as a strong contraction wracked her body. Cregan tightened his hold on her, fear gripping at his heart and twisting his stomach. 
After a few seconds of pain her face relaxed and her eyes opened, her cheeks were flushed with colour and despite the cold there was sweat at her hair line. 
“I think this might be working,” she said with a small smile, “or perhaps the baby can feel the tree,” she added, glancing toward the weirwood. 
“A good Stark then,” Cregan replied, forcing a lightness in his voice he didn’t feel. 
She stepped toward the tree and he followed her closely, never letting her more than an arm's reach from him. Once close enough she placed her hands on the tree, feeling the rough bark rasp against her skin. 
“Do you think the old kings of the north were born under this tree?” she asked, turning her face up as a shaft of wintery sunlight broke through the dense leaf cover, “snow and leaves for their midwife?”.
Cregan raised his eyebrow in thought for a moment before replying. 
“They were certainly conceived under it,” he smiled.   
“Yes, I remember the stories,” she agreed, turning to look at her husband and seeing the playful glimmer in his eyes. 
During the long months of the war she’d found comfort in the thousands of books in the Winterfell library, starting with the histories of the North going all the way back to the first men and how those ancient kings of the North did everything important in their lives in sight of a weirwood tree, they were born, married, made oaths and died as close to the trees as they possibly could. The histories had included stories of rituals the ancient peoples had contrived to conceive their children under the boughs of the weirwood trees, they believed these children would have the gifts of prophecy or live impossibly long lives because the powers of the tree flowed through them. 
“Perhaps, when you’re healed, we should try it ourselves,” Cregan teased. 
“When this one is delivered I’ll let you know if you’ll be welcome in my bed again,” she replied with a sly smile, before adding “my lord,”. 
Cregan gave a bark-like laugh, stepping closer to her and slipping his arm over her lower back and around her waist. She turned to face him, moving her hands from the ancient and cold bark of the tree to the living warmth of his shoulders, she studied his features before taking a deep breath and letting her forehead press against his. Another contraction wracked her body, she groaned and gripped tightly at the fur and wool of his cloak, taking strength from his body into her own. 
“I think we need to go back,” she said softly, their foreheads still pressed together. 
“I think so,” he agreed without hesitation.
Keeping his arm wrapped around her waist the two of them turned, she leaned heavily on Cregan as they completed the loop around the godswood and headed back through the castle courtyard. The space now almost completely empty as most of the household had been summoned for the midday meal. 
The progress was slow but they soon made it back to Lady Stark’s chambers, the room was cooler now, the windows had been thrown open but the coverings drawn across them to keep the room dark. The two women were sitting by the fire, talking quietly while the maester was still standing in the corner of the room, glaring. 
The midwife jumped to her feet and took Lady Stark’s arm, allowing her to slip from Cregan’s hold and move toward the bed. 
“How are you feeling my lady?” the midwife asked softly. 
“It helped, the pains are coming much more quickly now,” the lady replied. 
“Baby will be here soon,” the midwife agreed, “perhaps before the noon meal is over,”
Lady Stark glanced over her shoulder at her husband pausing by the door. His broad shoulders blocked out almost all of the hallway behind him.
“I want you to stay,” she said softly as she was helped back onto the bed. 
He smiled but shook his head. 
“This is not my place” he said softly, as he felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat and in his eyes as he fought the sudden overwhelm of emotions. 
“Thank you, my lord,” the old crone said from her seat, “we’ll take care of them,”.
Cregan nodded, knowing well enough when he was being asked to leave, he gave his wife a final look before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself and resuming his pacing. He wondered if his own father had paced nervously or if he had taken to the woods to hunt until the deed was over with and the child was cleaned and neatly wrapped in a blanket. He couldn’t imagine being any further than the castle gate while Lady Stark laboured. 
As the midwife predicted the midday meal hadn’t finished before there was the high pitched, squalling cry of a newborn that caused Cregan to stop in his tracks and lean heavily against the wall of the hallway, his hand clutching at his heart that was beating fast enough to burst. 
The door to the chambers opened and the midwife stepped out, a smile on her face as she saw her lord in a moment of unguarded emotion. 
 “A son, my lord, hale and hearty and with plenty to say for himself,” she said, the sounds of the crying child still coming clearly from the room behind her. 
“God's be praised,” Cregan said, his voice cracking with emotion. 
“Come meet him,”. 
Cregan felt his knees turn to water when he stepped into Lady Stark's rooms, the sight of his beloved wife cradling a squalling newborn was a joy that pierced his heart like an arrow. 
“Your son, my lord” she said with a tired smile, turning the bundle just enough for Cregan to be able to see the child's face. 
He stooped and took the child, cradling him close to his chest, for a few seconds the child stopped wailing, his blue eyes opening wide and taking in his first sight of his father. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, Cregan's own eyes filling with tears. One hot tear was about to track down Cregan's face when the baby in his arms screwed his eyes shut, opened his mouth and started to howl, his cries even more desperate than before. 
Lady Stark laughed from her seat on the bed, holding her arms out to take the child back. 
“Give him back, you're upsetting our son,” she said, grinning at Cregan who jealously clung onto the child, rocking him gently and trying to sooth the screaming babe. 
“Sorry my boy,” Cregan said softly, “but you'll just have to get used to me,”.
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3
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suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.
you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”
“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.
suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.
“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.
“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”
“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.
“this time i mean it.”
“no you don’t, sugu.”
“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”
“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.
his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.
“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”
“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”
“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.
“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”
“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.
you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.
“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”
“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”
“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.
“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”
“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.
right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.
“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”
“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”
“are you only dating me for my hair?”
“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”
“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”
“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.
“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”
the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.
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come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie
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laneywrld · 5 months
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Oh Baby | Lewis Hamilton mini series
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part one.
word count: 7.7k
Warnings: smut, absolute filth. breeding kink
Lewis can't help but want to give his best friend everything she desires. she can have whatever she wants.
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You were Lewis' best friend; the world knew it. The world also saw that he admired you in a way he hadn't anyone else.
You'd been in Lewis' life since the two of you were literal babies. Your dad was best friends with Anthony, Lewis' father, so in a way, you two were destined to be the best of mates. 
Sometimes, Lewis wishes he had the chance to meet you organically, but as quickly as that thought flickers through his mind, it is pushed away just as fast.
He would've been alone as a kid if you had come later in his life. But still, meeting you later would've changed the trajectory of your guy's relationship. He wouldn't be stuck in the constant lock of just being your "best friend."
He would continue to stick out his role and push through his torture if it meant you keeping him around.
Since you were kids, you two have been joined at the hip. You were always there to defend him at school when the bullies got to him. You were always down to follow his dreams with him, even if it meant convincing your dad to let you ride with his family to watch him go-karting in the sweltering heat. You were always there. 
You still are, and maybe that's what's got his heart thrumming in his chest as he watches you dance with his brother Nicholas. The two of your hands are entwined as you sway to the music blasting from the speakers.  
As Nicholas twirls you around, your eyes meet Lewis for a brief second, and you smile at him before you are faced with his brother again. You joke with Nicholas as the two of you dance, your head constantly turning to check on Lewis.
He loves how his family is your own and vice versa. He loves how you treat his brother with the same tender love and care that he does. He can't help but to admire everything you do, even if it's just including his brother in something as simple as dancing.
You give him a curious look as you sway with Nicholas. He only grins in return, raising his glass at you. He sees your eyes fleet over his shoulder, and then your mouth pierces together in a knowing smile. You tilt your head to motion behind him, and when he turns to follow your orders, he sees Laura approaching. 
When he turns back to you, you are no longer dancing wildly with his brother but sitting comfortably with your friends, accepting the shot Miles pours for you. 
Lewis shakes his head, turning to greet Laura. He shouldn't feel disappointed and he shouldn't feel an emptiness wallow in his gut at the mere fact that he can't watch you sway in the night. His girlfriend, (if you could even call her that), was approaching and he should be glad to see her, but he can't help but to relish in the fact that'd he'd rather observe you from a distance than be in her presence.
"Hey baby!" she cheers. " I'm sorry I'm late. I got hung up at the agency."
"S'fine." He smiles, embracing the hug. "Let's grab you a drink and then settle in with everyone."
Meanwhile you are trying your best to tame your friends and their instantly sour moods. "C'mon y'all. Be nice to the girl."
"Nice?" Whitney scoffs. "I don't like that lil' girl."
"Whit." You scold, "She's not for us to like; as long as Lew likes her, we support them, yeah?" 
"Whatever," Miles piques up, "She not good enough for my guy?"
Always the wiser one, you shoot miles with a frown that shows your agreeance: "We can think that, but who are we to decide for him? Lew's not an idiot. When the time comes to make the right call, he'll make it, yeah?"
"Yeah." Daniel says, "But the only right call would be you."
You smack your teeth, reaching for another shot. "Here this nigga go on his shit again."
The table erupts in laughter just as Lewis approaches with Laura.
"Guys, you all remember Laura?"
"Do we?" Whit scoffs under her breath, downing a shot. The group breaks into fits of sniggering. You eye them with a look that screams, Act right! before turning to face Lewis and Laura in your seat.
"Laura, hi! girl!" You dragged.
Once again, you shoot your eyes across the group; one by one, they all push out fake ass hellos or a mumbled What's up.
Lew watches on as you turn to him, smiling. He can't help it as his own grows wider.
After the phony greeting, Lewis drags Laura to sit with him. The only open spot is the two-seater across from you. 
Conversation is ablaze in the midst of the circle. You lean forward chatting with Laura for a while since no one else bothered. Lewis has his arm thrown over her shoulder but he is watching you. Like always.
"Oh, so you planned this gathering?" Laura questions.
"Isn't it obvious?" You joke. "Lew could never." You motion to the lights and grand decor located around the yard.
"Oh, please." Lewis smacks his teeth.
"Admit it, Lew. It's my thing. Tell me I did good."
"You did great." He smirks, leaning back, his legs spread in a way that has you ready to drool.
You divert your eyes, sitting back in your own seat.
"Y/N's so domestic, it's giving wife."
You squint your eyes at Whit, giving her the ultimate stink face.
"You're always going to be the stepmum to us Laura. We can't separate mum and dad." Mori speaks up.
There was an ongoing joke in your friend group that had been circling for years. You and Lewis were Mum and Dad, you two paired together so well that it was like watching the perfect marriage. Your friends referred to you as each others "hubby" and "wifey".
Still, your friends were beginning to get out of pocket, and you turned to Lewis expecting him to put an end to their shenanigans like any good dad would. He only smiles at you his eyebrows wiggling in a playful manner.
You feel your cheeks burn as he doesn't deny it.
"She is quite domestic, would make the perfect wife." Miles piques up from beside Lewis.
It's a scheme that you two were left out of, a plan made to force you two to realize your feelings for each other.
His words trinkle into Lewis' mind. He's always thought you'd make the perfect wife. He's thought about marrying you seriously plenty of times. It's also been a childhood dream of his to make it official, especially after having your own wedding ceremony at the playground under the monkey bars, commemorated by strawberry ring-pops and sand confetti that had both of your parents grumbling as they scrubbed your scalps clean that night.
He's only ever told Miles this, but he wishes he never got seriously involved that first time at all. He thinks he did it out of pure irrationality. You had your first serious boyfriend, and Lewis thought well shit. To him it seemed as though you'd never be that into him. So he spent seven years on and off with a woman he was unsure about when all he really wanted was you. He's wasted so much time.
He thinks back to the times where distance sprouted between you two. Nicole didn't like how close the two of you were, and you respected it even if he didn't want you to. He feels a bit like a dickhead thinking of all the times he lied to his ex telling her you were nothing more than a friend to him. It was obviously a lie. If it wasn't a lie he wouldn't have spent majority of his relationship trying to make you realize what it was you were missing. Hint: it obviously didn't work, or you'd be the girl under his arm right now.
"I'll be back in a few," you announce, standing from your seat. I'm going to go do my rounds. Give Lew a break." Lewis' stare was beginning to get intense, you could feel your little resolve crumbling the longer her stared into your soul.
He watches you stroll over to his dad and your dad, stepping in between them and wrapping your arms around their waist. He can't read your lips but can tell that whatever you said had the two doubled over in laughter. You pat their backs, trekking over to your next target.
You're a little ways away, refilling wine glasses at the "mum table." His mum has you saying something that leads to you smooching the top of her head as you pass by. You set the bottle on the table before suspiciously eyeing your mother and opting to pull it to the other end. Lewis lets out a chuckle, watching your antics.
It'd been awkward silence covering the group like a blanket since you'd left. Everyone watching Lewis, watch you.
You had convinced Lew to buy this house, practically begged him all of those years ago. "Lew, the backyard," you had marveled, hands outstretched at your sides. "Imagine hosting out here." You had gone on a rant, dragging him across each area of the yard and throwing out ideas for gatherings that didn't even exist.
He closed the deal that same day. He was glad he listened to you as he watched you light some sparklers for the group of kids. He watches you crouch down to his nephew's level, pressing him against your front as you direct the sparkler into his hand. 
He couldn't see your face but could tell you were muttering words of encouragement into his ear. 
You stand with a proud grin when he twirls the stick around confidently. 
You turn as a small child tugs on your dress, "I'm thirsty, Auntie y/n/n."
You coo, picking up your friend's child. "Hi, mama! let's fix that for you." You pop her onto your hip, waltzing into the house from the open patio doors. She runs out moments later, a juice box snug in her hands. You follow after, arms full of the very same juice.
You crouch down as the children huddle around you. You poke each straw through the hole before passing them out one by one.
"Look at Mama Bear." Whit laughs as her eyes follow Lewis' line of sight. He is watching you with a smile and that classic sparkle in his eye that he always seems to have when it comes to you.
"She'd make a great mum, huh?" Lewis rasps out. 
You're back at the fire pit before you know it.
"Yeah, Mori, you should totally let me kidnap your child next weekend."
"Have her girl, she's all yours." She scoffs, "badass little girl."
The group laughs, but Lewis can't help but notice the gloom flash over your face before it quickly washes away.
He knows about your desire to have a family. He remembers how you opened up to him about it after your last relationship ended, and you took it worse than you ever had before.
He remembers that day like it was yesterday.
You were a drunken, blubbering mess, sitting on his couch with puffy eyes and a blotchy face. "Ugh!" you groaned, reaching for the bottle to pour yourself another glass. He beats you to it, pulling it away and setting it down on the table at the end of the couch.
"Hey," he coos, his hand pulling you into his side as your lip wobbles. You can't help the outburst of tears for what feels like the 100th time.
"Let's talk about it, yeah? That might help a bit."
You had been friends for so long, and not once had he seen you this distraught. In fact, you were the one comforting him most of the time.
"I hate him," you whined, reaching up to cover your face. He got me over here looking stupid."
"Hey," he pulls your hand down, still holding you against him, just holding your hand down at your side as well. "Don't be embarrassed for feeling, ain't that what you tell me?"
"Yeah," you shudder.
"Now, talk to me."
"I wanted kids. I don't think i'm that hurt about him you know?" you don't give him time to answer, "I just feel like I'm not meant to be with someone, like love is not for me. Sometimes it seems like everyone has a person out there for them but me. I want a family of my own. I love my family and yours, but it's different." you cry harder then.
"I want a human to love unconditionally, I want babies, and I want to be a mom; I would make a great mumma."
"You would." He hums, his free hand coming up to wipe your face. You pull away turning to face him, your legs are crossed in front of you and he reaches forward grasping both of your hands in his. 
He has one leg propped under the other, and his body is turned to face you. The way he's looking at you makes you want to break down into another fit of tears. No one pays attention to you as much as Lewis.
"Is there something wrong with me?" You ask, and you sound so broken that Lewis is fighting off tears of his own.
"You're perfect." He assures, and his hold on your hands grows tighter. "There's someone out there who loves you whole. Through and through, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with you, just the wrong people you've come across. You're going to get all that you want one day. He was an idiot anyway. What happened anyway, huh? What made him-."
"I left him." you interrupted, "which is crazy that i'm crying over him this bad but I could feel a disconnect between us, we were too different, didn't have the same end goal."
"You know what's beautiful about this?"
You look up to him with a baffled expression to say what the actual fuck is beautiful about being an emotional mess. He chuckles, swiping one hand against your wet cheek, where he settles his palm to cup your face. 
"One day, when you get what you desire, you're going to appreciate it a whole lot more because of how much you had to go through to get it."
And if Lewis wasn't a scary idiot, he swore he'd given you a kid right there and then, hell, however many you wanted. He's always had a soft spot for you, giving you anything you could have remotely even thought about wanting. You mention wanting to visit Brazil, bam, you're on his private jet whisked away, you want a yard to throw family gatherings, the deed is signed. You complain about wanting specific cupcakes from your favorite bakery, he was out of town but it was nothing to have his assistant travel across town to place them at your door. The point is, he'd give you anything in a second. He's good for it and he'd give you his baby if you really truly wanted.
You look up to Lewis the same memory flowing through both of your minds, he shoots you a tiny smile, raising his glass in your direction. You return his expression sipping from your freshly filled wine glass. 
Your smile blows him away; he can never control the way his heart lurches; you'd think after years and years, your charm would lose its effect on him, but somehow, they grow stronger and stronger as each day passes by.
He doesn't know how long his group of friends sit around the fire pit laughing and chattering along (you including Laura every chance you get, seeing as your other friends seem to have forgotten she exists.) Before he knows it his father is approaching. "Son, there's a million sleeping kids all over your house, I think that's our queue to pack it up."
At that announcement you guys' friends begin to pack themselves up. Lewis says his goodbyes. The group sniggers as Anthony shoots a "Nice meeting you Lauren."
"He called me Lauren," she pouts, "and I've met him before."
"Don't pay it any mind," you speak up balancing an armful of empty glasses, "he's got a bad memory."
You scold your friends, shooing them off as Lewis apologizes to Lauren, Laura.
After a while the house is empty and you say the goodbyes in place of Lewis. As you load the dishwasher you see them bicker back and forth through the large window. 
You close the door, pressing start, deciding to stop evading their private conversation. You connect to Lewis' speaker, soft melodies bleeding through the house as you go room to room, collecting any foreign object that doesn't belong. You sit with Roscoe for a while after refilling his bowl, giving him kisses and rubs until his body vibrates with snores and then you are up and at it again finding anything to tidy.
You sing quietly to yourself you huff wiping the imaginary dust onto your dress. Just as you're going to sneak from the home, Lewis' voice halts you in your tracks.
"You're leaving?" His eyes are furrowed, and his face is scrunched up.
"I- uh yeah, I didn't know how long the two of you were going to be."
"You're not staying the night?"
Your eyes flicker between Lewis and Laura, "Um, no." you chuckle hoping he'd catch the hint.
As much as you loved Lewis and spending time with him, that love didn't cover listening to him fuck the brains out of his current fling.
"She's not staying," Lewis speaks up.
You are still frozen by the door, your hand holding onto the handle. You peek at Laura, her face covered in disdain.
Your mouth drops open and then closed, trying to figure out the words to articulate your desire to leave in order to avoid whatever weird tension is brewing.
"Bye, Lewis." Laura bites, her long legs striding past you quickly. You move to the side, and she slips through the door without saying so much as a word to you.
"Ooh," you whistle, watching as the door frame rattles from the intensity of the close.
"What's her problem?"
"Your friends are bitches Lew." He mocks in a whiny voice.
You laugh, clutching your chest, "They're a bit rude." 
"Yeah," he sighs.
"For good cause," you continue.
"Yeah."
"I mean, I don't like the girl either, but as long as you don't mind what she did then-."
"You staying." Lewis interrupts. He really didn't feel like talking about Laura, especially since he was alone in your presence for the first time today; it was all he wanted for his birthday.
It'd been three weeks since he last saw you, and while the two of you talked on the phone and texted every single day, it'd never compare to actually being in your space. 
You groan as he puckers out his bottom lip, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that always seem to convince you to do whatever he's asking for.
"Only because it's your birthday, and these heels hurt my feet so much, I don't really think I can drive."
"Oh please," Lewis laughs, "don't act like you don't wanna spend time with me. Excuses, excuses, excuses."
You waddle over to him, grasping onto his waiting arm as you bend at your knees to free your aching feet from said heels.
He takes the shoes from your hand, leading you up the stairs. 
As the two of you approach his bedroom, you feel your excitement boil over.
When he opens the door, you speak up, "I figured what'd be a good gift for someone who literally has enough money to buy whatever he wanted. Then I remembered how much you miss home while you're away and came to the conclusion that money could never bring that kind of comfort."
Lewis sniffles as he looks at the array of gifts spread over his bed. 
There is a stuffed Roscoe and Coco, a scrapbook that you'd dug into the archives to fill, letters from his family, your family, your friends, and an array of letters from you. Flowers, because to you, he deserved his more than anyone walking. You'd recreated his favorite ever birthday gift to him, a knit cheetah that you had your grandma help crochet with you for weeks before his seventh birthday. It's safe to say the OG had gone through a lot over the years. And finally, his first helmet from his carting career. He remembers his parents not being able to afford his helmet after buying him a game console for his birthday.
He remembers how upset he was but understanding of his parent's situation. He also remembers you leaving his party that night, face set in as much determination as it could be for a kid. The next day, you popped up with your dad shoving a brand new helmet adorned in a purple sticky bow into his arms. It'd been so many years since he'd last seen the helmet; as a teen, he'd gotten rid of so many things he considered to be junk, the helmet being one. But the older he got, the more he realized just how sentimental stuff like that was.
"You don't understand how hard I had to search through my Granny's attic for that. She always figured you'd want that back one day, pulled it right out of your yard sale that day."
Off to the side were stacked shoe boxes, a box from his jeweler, and a few designer bags.
He throws his arms over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest; he nestles his head atop of yours before he cranes to press multiple kisses to your hairline. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, know that, right?" He rasps.
"You wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in closer. "I love you Lew, happy birthday. You deserve it all."
You don't know how long the two of you stand their wrapped in each other's embrace before you part. 
"You can shower in here; I'll hop in the guest."
"Unzip me?"
You turn giving him your back to face, you feel his hand reach up to gently swipe your hair over your shoulder, you shiver as his finger tips glide against the skin of your neck.
"I'm gonna unclip your necklace first," he announces, and his voice is raspier than usual. He gulps as he pinches at the golden clasp, reaching one hand around your front to catch the dainty piece of jewelry.
He places it into you waiting palm, and feels his hands get clammy as he holds onto your hip for leverage. Holding you into place as his other hand glides the zipper down your back. His mouth waters and his heart hammers at the sight of your glowy skin being reveled to him.
You hold the dress up at the front, staring at him from the mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and there is such a charged tension lingering between the two of you. There are no words spoken as the two of you revel in each others presence. Both of his hands are now on your hips as you fell yourself subtly lean back into him. His chains cool your back as you sink into him. 
You smile at him through the mirror, "I really did miss you, but I have to shower. I'm sweaty, and I've been chasing kids around all day."
He chuckles, nudging you away but not before leaning over your shoulder, craning his neck in order to place a lingering kiss on your cheek that is almost too close to the corner of your mouth.
"Go shower, stinky."
You roll your eyes, treading into the bathroom and closing the door. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding.
Fuck, it was so challenging yet so exhilarating being in Lew's presence when all you want to do is strip him bare and have your way with him.
You put those thoughts aside and turned on the shower.
When you're clean and dry, you exit the bathroom in your robe (Lewis always keeps an extra for you), where you see Lewis sprawled across the bed, clad only in a pair of boxers. He watches you as you stride past, his head lies against the bed turning to follow your movements. He watches you disappear into his closet and exit, covered in his Mercedes t-shirt that falls down your thighs.
He lulls away the inappropriate images flowing through his mind and instead focuses on the fact that you're wearing his shirt to bed rather than any selection of your clothing piled in his dressers or hanging in your section of his closet.
He makes no attempt to move as you crawl up the bed towards him.
The scene is an absolute vision; he feels blood rush to his member, and he has to use all of his willpower not to let out the lewd groan he's containing.
You only smile at him, and you look so fucking beautiful and innocent he swears if you stare at him for any longer, he'd say fuck it all and pull you down underneath him.
He starts a mental countdown, but before he reaches one, you are flipping onto your back, his arm serving as a pillow as you fit comfortably against his side.
You turn your head to the right, seeing the bottle of liquor in his hand. 
"Give me that." He passes it over, his lips turned up in a smirk.
You lift your head, taking a good bit down your throat before passing it back; he does the same.
"I've got to post you for your birthday!" You gasp excitedly. You two joke around as you upload to your pages.
y/u/n
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y/u/n my favorite holiday, happy birthday lewlew, i love you to the moon and back, although you love to move through life fast I am always happy to spend slow days like this together with you cheetah, thank you for the lifelong memories and for sticking by me, i love you like no other <3
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whitwhit mum and dad ❤️ happy birthday pops
fencer Petition to make today a national holiday.
lewishamiton I love you more than life bunny, Thank you for today it was everything I needed.
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton Another one 🎂 Always a blast spending time with the people I love. Blessed to see another year surrounded by those I love. Special shoutout to bunny for the impromptu birthday celebration, every year that passes I am reminded of how we've gone through life together, always. Can't wait to spend many more years surrounded by love and happiness, thank you for the birthday wishes.
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user the way his post is full of him and y/n as kids. they really grew with each other 🥹
y/u/n cakes and candles my guy i luv uuuu
morismith +1 dad 🥳 child of a happy and healthy marriage
You two laugh as you scroll through your friends' comments. Somewhere along the line of you two passing the bottle back and forth, you began your own game of twenty-one questions, extra juicy, seeing as you two already knew damn near everything about the other.
"Hmmm!" you light up, "take a shot, or tell me why Nicki called you a weird little guy." 
Lewis smacks his teeth but breaks into a fit of laughter as you turn over, propping your chin up against his arm. Your feet kick back and forth as you stare into him.
"You're messy." He declares, downing another shot.
You groan, reaching over his bare body to take the bottle. "And you're no fun."
"What's one thing you've never told anyone, including me? I mean deepest, darkest secret."
You hum again, allowing Lewis to reposition the two of you. Now he is rested against the headboard, and your head rests on his lap. You let out a gentle moan when his fingers begin to rub against your scalp—his member twitches in his boxers.
"Answer the question." He demands his hands, pushing your head forward slightly to avoid the feel of his growing penis.
Your eyes bore into his, and he could see you fighting to decide whether to tell him or not. He almost tells you to take your shot until the words tumble from your plush lips.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you for the longest time, like probably was in love with you." You admit. Your eyes never leave his and it has his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He feels many questions running through his mind and they want to tumble out like an avalanche but like the relaxed person he is, he plays it cool.
"yeah, and what happened to these feelings, bunny?"
You smile at the nickname, rolling your eyes as you scoff. Lewis always picked at your cute persona as a kid, calling you as sweet and timid as a bunny, the bunny teeth also didn't help.
"You almost got married," you answered. "Realized that a childhood crush was just that, I let it simmer for so long that I made it seem realistic. When you started considering taking things further, I think I closed that book, locked that door, and threw away the key. It was easy when you left her and started running rabid like a fucking dog." you snort.
He laughs with you, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You calling me a slut?"
"If the condom fits." You tease. 
He rolls his eyes, but deep down inside, he is in shambles over the chance with you that he's missed. And he's regretting every decision that led up to you losing those feelings for him. "Next question."
You're staring deep into his soul with those sparkly eyes again and he can't help but return the same lovey eyes back. He always feels like this with you, wholly enamored and floored by anything that you do. 
You look so sweet and perfect that he doesn't expect the question that falls from your lovely mouth. "What's your favorite kink, like what's something that you do during sex that has you absolutely ready to go berserk?"
"You got a dirty mind, bunny." He teases, two fingers tapping against your temple.
"I've got a breeding kink, I think." He doesn't go into full detail, describing how he discovered it years ago when out shopping with you, and you passed through the baby aisle to shop for his newborn niece at the time. He doesn't describe how his pants tightened at the sight of you holding up cute little onesies or how his mind wandered to you laying spread out in his bed, being pumped full of his cum and loving it, begging for it. He doesn't tell you how he came the hardest he'd ever come in his life that night in his shower, imagining you plump with his child and a bright smile on your lips.
"Elaborate." There is a glint in your eyes as you observe him that urges him to finish his thoughts.
"It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you. You love someone so much that you want them to swell up with what is yours. Just fucking the cum back into them every time it slips out, one goal. Give someone my babies."
As he talks, his own words excite him; you can feel it, and you say nothing. The air surrounding you two is charged with such a lewd and sensual energy.
You throb between your thighs as he speaks to you, and his voice is getting deeper and deeper. He is hot and hard against your cheek; you stare up at him, your eyes leaving his own to trail the way his lips move to the way his jaw clenches, to the way his throat bobs all the way to his tatted, glowing chest. His words are getting to you. It's no secret that you, too, had a breeding kink, but hearing him say the words you wished to hear spoken to you in the midst of passion made you shoot into action. You are on his lap before you know it, mouth mushing against his in an instant.
He doesn't hesitate to return the favor; he separates your lips, gliding his tongue into your mouth, licking you open. You moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him harder. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, reaching one hand up to grasp the back of your neck and the other on your ass, pushing you impossibly closer to him.
You rock your hips against him, grinding down over him; he lets out a raspy groan, pulling away from your lips, his head falling to watch where your bodies connect; he lets out a moan as his grey briefs darken in color. You continue to glide back and forth over him
You swear you hear him whimper as you lift from his lap. He reaches to pull you back, but you are too fast; kneeling between his spread legs, the sight alone has him letting out another drawn-out whine. Your hand creeps up, rubbing him through the material. You were such a fucking vixen it was driving him mad. His head falls back against the headboard, and his eyes squeeze shut. You're barely doing anything to him, and it feels better than anything he's ever experienced, and he can only equate it to it being you.
You finally free him from his confines, and his head drops down to view you, and his jaw falls slack.
You jerk him up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit at the head of his perfect cock. You moan at the sight, and he twitches. You kiss at the top, staring at him through your lashes, and he swears he almost burst right then and there. Your lips are shiny with spit and you're practically drooling over him. As you place kisses up and down his shaft. You finally slip him into your mouth humming as you taste him. It has his legs spasming making you jostle a little.
You pop him from your mouth, giving him a cute smile that has him throwing his head back. She's going to fucking kill me.
You're moaning over him, driving him absolutely fucking insane. Lewis watches you through clouded eyes, his hand traveling to your hair. He pushes you lower and lower until you're shoving all of him down your throat, and then he pulls you off for air. You smile up at him going down again, and he lets out the nastiest moan you've ever heard.
"So fucking greedy for my dick." You'd never heard him speak like this, and it was scrambling your brain and your insides. "Mhmm," you moan over him. He holds onto your hair with his left hand, his right hand trailing to pull up the shirt that adorns your beautiful body. The higher he raises the shirt, the more unstable he becomes; the black panties cover barely anything, and when he continues to glide his hand up your back, your breasts hang loosely. He fondled them in his hand tweaking your nipple.
He tenses up, watching you take him down your throat like a champ, "fuuckk." 
He pulls you up for the last time, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He thrust up into nothing. His tongue finds it's way into your mouth and moves along with you in the most sensual kiss you'd ever gotten in your life.
"Lew." you whine, and it has him tensing again. This was better than he'd imagined. For years for his entire life he'd pictured this moment, played it out in a million different scenarios and they don't even measure up to this.
He was harder than he'd ever been and ready to finish at the mere sight of you looking up at him with his cock stuffed in your mouth.
"I can't- I won't last-" He is breathless, and his chest is falling up and down harshly. He looks so perfect, face tinted red and lips red and plump.
"Fuck me then," you order, and it flips a switch in him.
He'd dreamed of this moment, and he would be damned if he let his mind fuck this up for him. He pulls the large shirt from your frame and flips you over, laying you gently on your back. He hikes your legs up, spreading them open and pressing them down. Your knees touch the bed flat at your sides, and you mewl as his tongue flatly glides against your core.
You shiver and shake as he sucks you up. You can't stop squirming as he literally eats you. You moan his name over and over, hands coming down to clutch his curls. He moans against your core, pressing you down harder. You quiver in his hold, and you can feel that ball inside you, ready to burst. "Come for me, baby, let it out." He urges kissing your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, and that's when it happens.
The best orgasm you've had in your life. He licks you through it before sitting up on his knees. He still has you spread open at his mercy, and the sight below him has him stroking himself above you.
"So fucking pretty." he rasps, "ready for me?"
You nod, so fucked out that words seem impossible to you.
He chuckles, his hand coming up to hold you open as his other directs his hard dick to your hole; he pushes the head in at first, hissing as you suck him in. "Mhhm," he moans, "want me so bad, huh?"
You mewl, trying to push your body up to push him in.
"Aht, aht." he pushes his hand against you harder. "Let me take my time, make it right for us, yeah. Been wanting this forever."
His words make you gush more and more; you'd never imagine that Lewis, of all people, was this vocal during sex.
"He lets go of himself, both hands now gripping your thighs that are still burning against your chest. He stares deep into your soul as he pushes himself in an inch just to ease out just as slowly.
"Gotta stretch this pretty pussy out first, huh? So fucking tight." he coos.
Your eyes fall closed, your mouth going slack as he slides in again. "It's your dick, baby. All yours."
"C'mon bunny, wanna see your eyes, wanna watch you take me." You open your eyes breaths leaving you as little hitches as he finally fills you up.
"He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes watching where the two of you connect. "Fits so good," he groans, "made jus' for me."
You only mewl and clench the sheets.
"So pretty," he drops your legs, propping himself up on an elbow; his weight covers you like a security blanket. "Mhmm." he moans, sliding in and out of you. Your walls were suffocating him, sucking him in and trying to keep him in place. His face is scrunched up in pure pleasure as he succumbs to your velvety walls. So fucking warm and wet.
"Love this pussy." he groans before his mouth is back on yours. 
"Say it's mine," he orders pulling back, he is towering over you again, one hand clutching your face to watch him watch you.
You only moan, equating his words to being in the moment even though they have your stomach doing flips.
"Say it's mine, baby, and I'll give you what you want." 
It's like he hit a switch in you, brought out a side of you that you've never been able to release.
"It's yours," you coo, "all yours, only yours."
His eyes shine at your words, pressing a quick peck to your lips. 
"Nobody can give it to you like me, they don't deserve it, been so good to you. Hmm. Can give you everything you want."
One hand travels down to your stomach, where he presses down, "Feel me in there?"
"yes." you gasp, eyes rolling back; the sex is no longer slow and sensual. He is pounding into you so hard that your body lurches up and down the bed, and your breast bounces with every thrust. 
Lewis Hamilton is a dirty man, you conclude watching his lips fall open from the dirty smirk he'd had it in. 
"Got something else to put in there." You clench around him tighter curses falling from his mouth as he stills inside of you.
You know he is only in the moment, this whole debacle started because of his admission of a praise kink, you know he's playing along with yours, he wants to get you there in the same way you want to get him there so you play along.
"I want it." you whine, "want it all."
Lewis thought it was impossible for him to get any hornier, but once again, you've proven him wrong.
"Want you to fill me up, want to be full of you." You play on his words from earlier. "Want all of you."
He moans once again, spreading you open. He is plowing into you. Loud grunts left his throat as he digs deeper and deeper into you. He can feel every crevice of your flesh as you swallow him.
"Gonna give you what you want, make you big and full, have you carrying my babies. Going to have what you always wanted, love."
Your eyes fall shut at his words in utter bliss.
He lays on top of you, the burn of your thighs spreading. His hands travel to your own, holding them on either side of your head. His head is nestled between the crook of your neck; he's sucking and licking along your neck. You feel him everywhere.
"mmph," you moan as he reaches and punches against your sweet spot over and over. 
Lewis is so fucked out in a loving haze that he can't control the words tumbling from his lips onto your skin.
"Wanted this forever, so long." He whimpers, "Feel so good, only wanna feel you. Only wanted you."
You free one hand from his hold wrapping it around to rub at the curls at the nape of his neck. You want him to keep talking, keep feeding you the words you've waited your whole life for him to say. "I can give you everything you want, baby."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you can't tell if it's from the pleasure he's giving you or the words he's dribbling out.
"Taking me so well, fuck!" he sits up on his knees again, turning you over without pulling out of you; you're on all fours as he plows into you from behind. 
"So mean, making me wait so long, letting me be with the wrong woman, should've been you." You clench around him eyes squeezing shut, you shouldn't enjoy these words as much as you do but you can't help it.
"Wanted it to be you, would've had our family by now, so many kids, so happy." You're literally shaking, the fire growing inside of you, making it impossible to ward off your second orgasm. 
"Been looking for you in all these women, never were you, never could be. Fucking couldn't get hard without imagining your face. Always had to be you." He sounds so vulnerable and open behind you. You want to see his face so badly, and you want to watch him as he admits what you've always desired.
Like he read your mind, he flips you over again, nestling between your legs and pushing himself in again with a hiss, "Gotta see your face when you come, love."
You're on top of him, relishing in the way he looks up at you. Your thighs are placed on either side of him lifting over and over as he glides in and out of you.
He looks so beautiful, you think even if he is spitting out the most wild and lewd words you've ever had spoken to you. "Gonna empty this dick in you baby, give you my baby. Make you mine, all mine." He growls.
"Could've had this all along if you said something sooner, bunny. Would have had you feeling like this all of the time."
His hands are on your waist, lifting you up and down over him. You fall forward one hand holding you up and the other reaching down to cup his jaw. You press your lips over his, breathless pants traveling from one mouth to the other. The eye contact is intense as you stare each other down. His eyes literally sparkle as he fuck up into you, his mouth dropped open. You kiss him one last time before sitting up again and setting your own pace, "Fuck Lew, you feel so good."
You're bouncing on him at a much slower pace as his eyes fall closed and his grip tightens on your flesh.
You're not responsible for what you say when you cum, it's common knowledge, which is why when Lewis flips you over and barrels into you at a much softer pace you let his words carry no penalty, albeit the way they make your eyes water, albeit the way you return them truthfully.
It's so overwhelming you can't help the way the tears flow from your eyes and slide onto the sheets. He's cumming in spurts, hot and gooey, filling you to the brim. Lewis has never come so much. He lets out an array of grunts and moans. He's so out of it that he lets his words tumble out without a care in the world, and he means them wholly. He's fucking his cum into you, pushing it back in with his dick as you quiver around him. 
"Love you, fuck, I fucking love you."
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home in three days, do not wash
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Fandom: Gladiator II Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: age gap, mild choking, mentions of child death, hurt comfort, breeding kink, lactation, reader has children, taboo for the time oral sex, talk of war. Word count: 3.6k words Summary: Your General returns home ravenous for you and you cannot decline him, even if any exposure of his act would bring him great shame. A/N: Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the awesome graphics. Napoleon said 'be home in three days, do not wash' and what was I supposed to do? Not use it for our big thicc roman general returning home from war to fuck us? I did research and shit and came to know that eating pussy was a big no no back in the day. dj Khaled would love to be an ancient roman ig. also learned that rich ladies didn't breastfeed and used a wet nurse but they knew that breastfeeding could help and some women did it. Outside all that research, it's just depravity, baby. Anyway, validate my depravity with some comments pls.
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Laughter echoed through the hallways of your palatial home and you stood at a balcony with the best view from atop the hill. The campaign that had taken your husband away had finally come to an end with victory for Rome. Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, you were always one of the last people to receive the latest news of importance. This time was an exception to the rule. 
Home in three days. Do not wash.
All you wanted when you received the message was to run in the direction of the roads that would bring your beloved home. Three days were too long. You wanted to curtail the long wait, run to him so you would be in one another’s arms in a day and a half. 
But you chose the more realistic path and prepared the home for his arrival. The servants polished every surface, your handmaiden ensured you had all your most preferred clothing— that which he loved to see on your body. The kitchen was busy preparing every meal that the master loved. Your two older children with your general busied themselves recollecting everything they learned from their private tutor to impress their father. 
Your youngest, your first son, was still so young he had never met his father. He was the child your dearest had longed to have for so long. For all the luck the gods had given him in the battlefield, they had given very little in the way of children to carry his legacy. In his heart, he was father to seven daughters and six sons. The gods had only allowed four daughters to live. Two of his sons passed in infancy, one passed in birth, taking his mother with him. One other was taken by disease and another killed in battle. 
He now had only one son and he hadn’t yet the joy of holding him in his arms. Everyday that Marcus was in the battlefield was torture. Babe on your breast and fear in your heart over whether his father would live to see him. Fear sometimes subsided for anger to have its way. That very anger remained in your chest, prepared to unleash on him the moment he stepped into the home. 
When the sun dimmed, night crept in and so did Marcus. You refused to greet him at the door. A warm welcome was reserved for men who told their wives where they were going before they left. You had half a mind to ask for a bath to be prepared. To wash yourself with milk and fragrant oils in front of him so he could see your defiance in action. 
But you remained in the balcony, eyes set on the moon who served as your companion when he left you. For all the fury you had for him, there was also an ache of sympathy. You wouldn’t sour his mood the moment he entered. He must see his son first. Then you would see to that he groveled at your feet for his cruelty. 
Just as you thought, you had a long time to relax on the settee. He always went to his children first. Be it after months away on the battlefield or a mere day in the city. You asked for your son’s crib to be moved to your daughters’ room so he would be able to see them all at once, saving him the battle of choosing between his great loves. You’d sent word to him on the battlefield after you gave birth, sent him the name of his son so he would know to include him in his prayers. 
You heard whispers of his voice conversing with a servant. Your heart quickened its pace, each thud against your ribs matching the thuds of his feet against the floor. Oh how you wanted to turn around. It had been so long since your eyes were blessed with him. His towering height, broad frame, the pink of his lips and the curls you so loved to comb through with your fingers. You trembled, the cold breeze reminding you how devoid you’d been of his warmth. Yet you were resolved to not give yourself up to him so soon. You stayed in place and closed your eyes.
He stopped behind you and your name spilled from his lips like honey. It had been so long since anyone spoke your name so… The servants called you mistress and your children called you mother. Your birth family only wrote your name in their many letters. He was the only one who spoke your name, leaving you without hearing your own name since his departure. But you stayed, did not turn, did not open your eyes. He spoke it again, his voice gentle but louder as he stopped at your side. 
“Open your eyes, dearest.” 
“Where have you come, General?” You asked, your voice cold enough to be the envy of the winter breeze. 
“General?” He asked, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. 
“Are you not a General?” You taunted, finally opening your eyes. He looked weary from battle and travel. You longed to take him to your chambers and strip him of his armor to count his wounds, kiss each one be it new or old. His hair was grayer than when he left, his skin duller, but his eyes were still the soft brown that gave you peace when you first saw him as his young bride. 
“Your General,” he said with a small smile as though his words were supposed to make you forgive him at once and shower him with kisses. It only strengthened your resolve. If he wouldn’t treat you as a wife, you wouldn’t give him the respect of a husband. 
“You have a son,” you said, stretching your legs out in the settee just as he made to take his seat there. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked it off, daring him to make another attempt at moving your legs so he could sit. He smiled softly, conceding as he moved to stand by your head. 
“He is beautiful, mellilla,” he said, caressing your cheek. You slapped his hand away. All of Rome may fall at his feet and welcome him back with praises of his victory. He was deserving of course, not only for his achievements but for his undying loyalty to Rome. If Rome were a woman, she would be his principal wife and you— you would only be a tavern whore he fucked and left in the dead of night. 
“You block the moonlight, General Acacius.” 
“Marcus,” he said, moving to allow you sight of the moon once again. He sat in the little remaining space on the settee and looked down at you. Despite the toll war had taken on him, he was incredibly handsome. Bold nose, pink lips and graying curls that only made him look ever so slightly more distinguished. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You did not return the kiss, but you did not push him away. There was an limit even to your anger. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the act of denying yourself the joy of your lover weighing heavy in your heart.
“I’m afraid I haven’t such an honor.” You bit down on your lip, annoyed at yourself for the trembling of your voice as you spoke. Your anger for him had a foundation of pain after all. 
His face fell and he sighed. He looked down at his lap and you hoped it was from shame.
“If you have nothing to say, you may leave. If you need it, you may summon the servants for your meal. But I am sure the emperor did not send his best general hungering for food or cunt,” you spat, rising to sit up on the settee. Hand as strong as iron wrapped around your wrist, coupling with his strong torso that trapped you in place to keep you from getting up. You squirmed in his grasp, but he did not budge.
“Listen to me.” 
“Is that an order?” 
He wrapped an arm around you and held your cheek in his hand. You looked up at him, giving him biting fury to his firm yet gentle gaze. “If it is the only way I will have your obedience, then yes. It is an order.” 
“You may speak, but you cannot make me listen and you most certainly cannot make me respond.” 
“I am your husband.” 
“A husband doesn’t leave for a year long war at the dead of night with no explanation to the woman swelling with his child,” you screamed, fist slamming against his chest. It didn’t affect Marcus. Nothing affected the great General Acacius, you thought with derision. You hit him in the chest again, tears brimming in your eyes and clouding your vision.
“Forgive me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You ceased your attacks as his apology coupled with the pain in his eyes reduced you to tears. You’d kept everything in for so long, put on a brave face for your daughters and hid your heart in your letter to your father. It was only with Marcus that you didn’t need to hide. He always tore your fears down and pulled you into the safety of his arms.
“I wouldn’t have been able to leave had I said goodbye.” 
“I was so afraid,” you confessed, leaning into his chest. Every pretense of strength and composure left your body as you let him hold you to his chest. The gold earrings you wore to please his eyes pressed cold against your skin under his hand. He moved next to your hair and then you neck, the hand that held swords and spilled blood only to return home to love you. 
“Carissima…You were all I could think of after I left. Forgive me,” he begged, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to each finger. 
“Later. I have missed you. Marcus,” you whispered, craning your neck to kiss him. He returned your kiss in an instant, arms cradling you as you devoured each other. He smelled of war— blood, soil, sweat, and leather. It was far more pleasing to your senses than any fragrant oils and flowers. Your Marcus and his distinctly masculine scent was above all but the fragrance of your newborn. 
You whined as he retreated. He laughed and returned to scatter kisses along your jawline like Rome scattered rose petals along the steps of the Colosseum for his feet. He reached under your layers of silk and linen, making you tremble and press yourself closer to his chest. 
“So soft…” 
“I need you, please.” It was all he needed to hear before he walked up to the doors of the balcony and slammed them shut. What he did with you, for you, wasn’t for anyone else’s eyes but your own. 
He unlatched the gold clips that held your palla to your shoulders and set them aside. Your stola and tunic followed, piling up on the marble floor. Cold air caressed your bare breasts, bigger and fuller now as you nursed your son yourself. You traced your hand up his arm, feeling his vambrace before finding his muscular arms. You whimpered from just how big he was in your hands. You squeezed, feeling the hard muscle and rough skin. 
Your General knelt before you and you sat up straight, confused by his action. He couldn’t be… You sought his apologies and regret, but by no means would you ask him to humiliate himself for you. Such a man, superior to you in every way. 
“Dominus!” You shrieked, reminding him who he was even when he came home. 
“Shh…” 
“Are you going to—?”
“Lick you cunt? Yes. Sit back, now,” he said as he guided you to lean back on the settee. You shook your head from side to side, appalled by the circumstances and confused as to how you were supposed to stop him. He spread your legs wide, planting your feet upon the seat. He licked his plush lips and looked up at you, his eyes those of a ravenous beast. 
“You cannot. I only want you to understand the torture you put me through, not debase yourself in front of me. It’s not right.”  
A corner of his lips curled up slightly. He spat on his hand and rubbed it into your cunt. You arched into his palm, your cunt chasing any contact you could have with your beloved. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” 
“You.”
“Speak fully and speak my name.” 
“I belong to you, Marcus.” 
“Correct. Why do you think then, that you can tell me what I can and cannot do with you?” 
He parted your cunt lips and slid a finger inside you. “You belong to me. All of you. This cunt belongs to me. Does it not?” You nodded as he pumped his thick finger in and out of you. It had been so long since you’d been touched that even his finger felt a little much for you to take. You shuddered as you thought of his cock, promising the virility that came with such a size. 
“Speak,” he commanded, every bit the fearsome General who led men into battle. When even warriors couldn’t defy him, how could you? 
“It belongs to you, Marcus.” 
“Mmm,” he rumbled, curling his finger inside you, making you whimper. “If I want to lick this cunt then, do you have any right to stop me?” 
“N-no,” you cried, grabbing his wrist and imploring him to slow down for you couldn’t take such intoxicating pleasure. “If peo— Marcus! If someone knew—”
Then he dove into your core and licked the nub above your cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. He looked up at you from between your legs, tongue still licking you as he smirked. It was sinful, the sight and the act of a man serving a woman. You shook your head, your senses already addled from being so close to him after a long year. It was wrong. Wrong. But oh gods, he made all the wrongs feel right and who were you to deny him? 
Tears rolled down your cheeks, no longer from the agony of separation from your dearest but from the building pressure in your core. 
“Marcus…” you said, unable to say anything else. You reached your hand towards him, needing to be anchored to the Earth as he flew you to the heavens. He enveloped your hand in his and gave a small squeeze. His other hand and his lips were unrelenting, giving him new ways to torment you. 
How did anyone deem it submissive for a man to kneel and lick cunt? Your Marcus still looked as majestic as ever. The picture of victory that Rome worshiped. The Marcus Acacius who slew and killed was home and ruthless in his conquest of you. Even as he licked your core, he was the one with all the power in hand. This was but a new way for him to take you. 
You gasped inaudibly as he inserted another finger in your cunt, stretching you in preparation for his cock. You felt your unraveling come closer. He pulled you deeper into whatever spell he had you under whenever he touched your cunt. You squeezed his hand tighter, saying everything your lips couldn’t. Hold me, keep me safe, never let me go.
The waves crashed against the rocks on the shores of the beach as you came crashing down from the heavens. Marcus kept his wordless promise. You tightened your legs around his head yet he held you in place and kept you safe. 
When you came to, you found your fingers tangled in between his dark curls. You loosened your grip on him but did not let go, needing to feel him even if it was just his hair. 
“I should not have liked that.” 
He laughed and gave your cunt another lick, smirking as he watched you shudder. 
“But you did,” he said, getting up at last. “I knew you tasted divine, but having you directly from your cunt is something else, melilla.” 
“I have not washed in days because of you. I am sure I taste horrendous.” 
“Good girl, following orders well. But you are wrong. You taste and smell like a woman. Not a perfumed woman. This,” he said in a low voice as the tip of his nose traced up your neck. He inhaled your scent and moaned. “This is nothing you can find in a vial. This is your true scent,” he said, stopping at your ear and placing a kiss. 
“I would recognize it anywhere.” He reached under his pteruges and toga and retrieved his cock. Your cunt clenched at the mere sight of him. 
He was far too covered. As much as you loved to see your General in his armor, you loved more to see him bare. You needed to run your fingers over his bare chest and dig your fingernails into his shoulders as he wrung his pleasure out of you.  You found the ties that held his armor in place and began to undo them. 
“Impatient girl,” he chided as he aligned himself with your cunt. 
“Help me out then,” you snapped back as you struggled with the knots. He ignored your request and continued on his path of destroying you, plunging his length inside you much too quickly. You cried from the pain and pleasure of being stretched out by him once again. 
“Marcus!” 
He bent forward and whispered your name against your lips before claiming them. You moaned into the kiss as you rubbed yourself against him for friction. You were loath to pull away from his cock even the slightest as you ached for him too much to part from him. You wrapped your legs around him and pressed your heels down on his back, pulling him deeper inside you. 
He wrapped a hand around your throat, tightening and loosening every now and then. “Day and night, I longed for you,” he whispered, his breath mixing with yours. “Dreamt of the day I would be inside you again.” 
You echoed the sentiment, but he quickly silenced you with a hard thrust that you felt in the deepest part of your core. He wasn’t the gentle Marcus who treated you like you did your fine silks but the General who conquered every land he set foot on. He rammed in and out of you, reclaiming you as his. Your cunt opened up to take its master, molded itself around him like it did each time since your wedding night. He had taken you, his young bride, and shown you a world only he could. He’d taken and taken, made you a woman by showing you what your body could do for you. 
He licked up your neck, growling like he was tasting the finest delicacies from the emperors’ table after being starved for months. “You smell sweet, Carisimma.” 
“You lived in tents with men for a year. I’m sure a pig would smell sweet to you now,” you said, making him laugh even as he wrecked you. He reached down to your breasts and grabbed one in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers and tugged, making you cry out in pain. 
“Marcus!” Drops of milk trickled from your breasts and he swiped it with him thumb before licking it. 
“I only regret that I could not see you grow bigger with my seed.” 
“You ha- you have seen it before.” 
“Yet I am not satisfied. I need more, I need to fill you up with my seed, keep you full with my children in perpetuity.” 
“Marcus! Please…” 
“What do you beg for, girl?” 
“Give me sons, Marcus. Let me give you heirs,” you cried, overcome by the need to become his in that primal way. It was more than just your duty as his wife. It was an innate desire. As frightening as pregnancy was, you wanted it again and again at the hands of your husband. To give him sons carry his name and daughters who would control the great General with their laughter. 
“Give me sons,” he repeated, the hand around your neck squeezing tight. This time, he did not relax, holding your air hostage as he used your cunt for his carnal desires. You gasped for breath. Your cunt squeezed around him, keeping him in so he would give you his seed and refusing to let go even for a moment. 
Every thrust after sent delicious ripples of pain. You knew that you would wake the next morning unable to walk as usual. You would hear your servant girls giggle when they thought you couldn’t hear. He would wreck you day and night, make you scream for all the house to hear. He would take you to high places in the city, an arrogant smile on his lips as he showed you off, rounded again with his child. 
As though he could read your thoughts, he spilled inside you with a cry of your name. You held him close, afraid he would part from your body and rob you of his warmth. 
He showered you with kisses, beginning as a downpour and ending with a drizzle. You melted into his arms, the tension in your muscles leaving now that you had your Marcus home. You were no longer alone, he was here and he would take care of everything. 
“Am I forgiven now?” 
You smiled, burrowing into his chest as draped your discarded silk over you and picked you up in his arms. “I will consider it if you make sure I don’t bleed this cycle.” 
You felt his chest rumble as he laughed. A kiss on the top of your head.
“As you say, melilla.”
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jezabelle9299 · 19 days
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Make-up Birthday S.R x FEM! Reader
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Overture: Spencer didn't just miss your birthday he forgot it. (Happy Ending)
C-Ws: Missed occasions, pushing down feelings for the benefit of another person, Spencer chose Gideon over you
A/N- Baby's first angst, go easy on me. And I've been in a sour mood so I have 2 other angst fics (also birthday themed), that will probably be posted sometime this week. Our regularly scheduled sap will return next week.
You weren’t a very big birthday person. Of course when you were young you had birthday parties with all of your little friends, but as time went on, things got busy. It was pushed to the side for years, until you preferred to just ignore it. Until a few weeks ago, when Spencer asked what you’d like to do to celebrate. You told him nothing was necessary, but he insisted that the two of you at least spend the day together. You let yourself get excited, you made good plans, just takeout and movie night, but that was enough. If it were anyone else you’d remind him, several times, but you knew he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t forget anything.
This morning you woke up to an empty bed, and you knew Spencer had gone to work. He had a few meetings he mentioned having to go to about their latest cases, but you weren't expecting him until this evening. The day passed you by when you got set up, but time slowed down when there was nothing to do but wait. Each second passed a little slower than the last, until you got worried. You haven't heard from Spencer all day. 
You: Hey Spence, everything ok?
Spence: I’m ok, just got caught up at work. I’ll come to your place as soon as I can. 
You: Ok, see you then
You were glad he was ok, and you knew he’d rather be with you, than at work. Something important must’ve come up, he wouldn’t miss this over nothing. But time passed with no more texts, until you resigned yourself to him just not coming. You changed from your date outfit into some comfy pajamas, and laid down in bed. You weren’t upset with Spencer, this job was important to him, and you knew he felt like he had something to prove just being there. You could celebrate another day.
It wasn't until well after nine when Gideon asked Spencer what he was still doing here, he’d mentioned weeks ago that he’d need to leave early. That’s when Spencer realized what he was missing. It wasn’t just movie night, by now he’d missed almost your entire birthday, after he’d pressed you to celebrate it at all. He rushed out as quickly as possible, but by the time he got to your place it was too late. He knocked on the door and as soon as you answered, all the apologies came pouring out. He couldn’t make himself stop until you put your hands on either side of his face making him look you in the eyes. 
“It’s ok Spence, I know how important your job is, and we can celebrate another day.”  
He leaned down to hug you, burying his face in your neck. “I’m so sorry honey, it totally slipped my mind. But I promise to make it up to you.” You pulled away from him at that. 
“Wait, what do you mean?” He just looked at you, like he was replaying what he said to figure out what he did wrong. 
“You–you forgot?” 
“I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t. I had this picture in my mind, like when you leave for cases, when you tell me how you wish you could be here.”
“I do wish I was here, baby. You mean the world to me.” You couldn’t keep doing this, his reassurance was breaking you down bit by bit. Sure now he wished he was there, but he didn’t even realize you were missing him. 
“I’m gonna go for a drive I think, we don’t have to celebrate another day, it’s fine.” 
“No please stay– please let me make this up to you.” His phone rang. A shrill tone cutting through, nearly making you wince.
“It’s Gideon, I have to take this. But please stay with me, I want to talk about this. It’ll only take a minute.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Spence, just remember to lock up when you leave ok?” You picked up your shoes and keys before you walked out, still in your pajamas. You gave him not even half of a smile, and it was breaking his heart. But he couldn’t ignore the call.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
Gideon was like a father to him, and even though he winced when the door shut behind you, quietly, as if you weren’t even upset, he still answered. There wasn’t even a case, Gideon just had a question about some evidence. Nothing would’ve happened if he didn’t answer, no one was dying, and the only one hurt was you. He couldn’t have just ignored the call, and now you were gone. 
Spencer didn’t forget anything, but somehow he forgot this. 
You weren't sure where you’d go. You decided to allow yourself one evening to be upset. To acknowledge that this whole situation sucks and honestly today your usually wonderful boyfriend kind of sucks too. You’ll feel guilty about it tomorrow, but tonight you're going to drive an hour and a half down the highway, just to turn back around so you could avoid the drunk drivers on the road when the bars close. Spencer should be gone by then, you’re sure Gideon was calling to steal your boyfriend away on a case again and you’d call him in the morning to make sure he got there ok and tell him to be safe like you always did. 
What Spencer did was important, and you couldn’t be mad at him for missing something as silly as a birthday for a work problem. But he wasn’t out saving lives like you thought. It may be selfish or overly-presumptuous about your standing in his life, but when you missed him it made you feel better to think he was missing you just as much. How he was at work thinking about how he loved you. And today was the day that illusion shattered.
You could only sob at the thought. 
By the time you got home, it was almost 1am. The redness in your eyes finally started to subside, you got too dehydrated to continue actually crying almost an hour ago, so that’s when you decided that the time for being upset over this was done. Even the puffiness in your face was going down. But when you unlocked the door, Spencer was waiting for you. 
“You’re home.” 
“You’re here. I thought you had a case.” 
“No, Gideon just had a question about some evidence, I wanted to be here when you got back.” 
“That’s sweet of you Spencer, but I just went for a quick drive. I’m kind of tired, so I think I’m just going to head to bed now, ok? But I’ll see you in the morning.” You gave him a resigned kiss on the forehead and his heart broke. He did this. And you called him Spencer, not ‘Spence’, not ‘honey’, not ‘babe’. Spencer. It never sounded so awful. 
He did all he could do, he slept on the couch and let you rest. You would be talking about this in the morning. You couldn’t shut him out forever, he loved you too much.  
The beeping of the coffee machine woke him up, his legs half hanging off your couch. He immediately got up. If the coffee machine was going off, you were awake, and you could talk about last night. 
“Honey?”
“Hi, I didn’t realize you’d stayed here last night, were you too tired to drive?”
“No, but I wanted to be here when you woke up.”
“You could've slept in my bed with me.” You were glad he didn’t. But you wanted to maintain your facade, you wanted to forgive him, and forget about everything.
“You’re upset with me, I wanted to talk to you.”
“I’m not upset.”
“You’re the love of my life and I hurt you. You don’t have to pretend to be ok with it.”
“It was one day, Spencer. It’s fine, you don’t have to sleep on the couch as penance.” You were putting on your coolest presence, but everything you said still came out as more of a mumble than it would’ve. 
“I need you to listen to me, you are the most important person in my life. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I forgot about you.” That broke your barely held together exterior of confidence.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I need you to know that I love you, I can’t just let this go.”
“Ok fine. You made me celebrate my birthday and when you forgot anyway, it hurt my feelings. But I don’t want a makeup birthday, and I wish I could just forget about it, and I don’t understand why you want me to be mad at you.”
“I don’t want you to be mad, but when you are mad, I need you to tell me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“But I don’t want you to know when I’m upset. I want to be the cool girlfriend that doesn’t get upset when her boyfriend does something by accident. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and when you make one mistake about something I wouldn’t have even cared about a month ago, I can’t get over it. But I really want to get over it, so could we please just forget about it?” By this point tears were flowing down your face, but you were still wiping your face every few seconds to stop them in their tracks.
“No we can’t just forget, I think you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and it’s not because you ignore your feelings whenever you think they’d be inconvenient. I want to spend the day with you if you’d be ok with it, but if you want some time alone that’s ok too.”
“I want to spend the day with you. But could we leave out the birthday theme?”
“Sure honey, whatever you want, I’m all yours.”
“You know I love you Spence, right?”
“I know, I love you too.” It was an upsetting morning, but he was still overjoyed that you called him ‘Spence’ again. He’d earned his pet name back.
“Do you really think I’m cool?” It was barely spoken into his chest, moreso whined, muffled by the fabric of his sweater vest. At this moment, you were so uncool. Yet he still kissed your forehead as he laughed. 
“The coolest.”
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persicipen · 2 months
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pearls ノ sunday
ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.2k ノ fem reader — pussy slapping . teasing ノ in front of a mirror ノ sunday buys you gifts — a necklace ノ he’s a little tired but a freak anyway ノ ambiguous relationship . implied soft dom sub dynamic ノ petnames — darling . dearest . dove
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The fingers that belong to the young family leader circle your nape, a feather-like touch despite his own wings taut along his locks, a silvery wave of silk falling on his shoulders. Although your new necklace is loose, pearls sitting lazily on your collarbones, it feels like a collar — a tight rope around your neck, squeezing hard every time you try to pull away from him and he brings you back with a stern tug of the invisible leash.
Sunday loves you, though, right? A lover that keeps you safe, forever excited about new gifts and everything he could do for you if only you had asked.
But you’re silent.
Obedient, the right word. That is true, he would enjoy seeing you break out of his rule, but he prefers you more so nice and quiet, always ready for his commands. He himself doesn’t know how would he react if you were to deny him. Would it spark a fury in him? A despair? Lust, even?
Doesn’t matter.
What matters now is that you’re smiling so dearly in the mirror, seeing yourself with a new jewellery, a shining set of pearls brought to you from Lushanka, the oceanic planet. An expensive proof of ownership, that is.
Gently pressing on his crotch, he knows that you crave only one thing right now — something he cannot give you, not when he’s so frustrated and pensive.
Next to you, there’s a broken shell of a man, eyes empty a worn-out dinner plate instead of a plate of gold. Constant meetings filling every system hour of his routine, nibbling at his humanity, piece by piece, devouring what’s left serene in him. But he always has time for you. You bring a sliver of solace into his day, the light in his life, and your soul is more important than any wealth, any political acquisition. He wants to be the perfect man for you — for now, at least when the family still allows him to have that tiny drop of freedom where he can do as he pleases, with whoever he wants to spend the time.
With the other hand, he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone, the reflection in the mirror immediately following his action, tilting your head to look at him. Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, a fine line of sweat rolling down your forehead as you take his form into your vision. You hold yourself still, making sure to not interrupt his moment of yearning. You feel pity, yes, but simultaneously, there is something dark seeping through your thoughts, whispering how you shouldn’t complain about the circumstances. Not whilst you’re being kept warm and pampered by one of the finest men in Penacony.
That’s correct. He’s not even yours, the richest young family leader, meant to be loved by many and to never have anyone truly on his side. People usually do admire him — for his wit, charisma, and some are very fortunate to be graced with his handsome face up close if They’re his personal retainers. But you? He wants something more from you. The unspoken desire woven into the thread that keeps the pearls in place around your neck.
“Aren’t you just my darling?” Sunday murmurs in a soothing manner as his eyes dart down your neck, brushing his fingers over the lustrous beads once again. “My gift looks divine on you. Are you feeling happy, my dearest?”
“The happiest I could ever be.”
He’s absolutely delighted to see how well you’ve grown used to being around him — his ever-changing moods that sometimes turn sour, and how much better you are than anyone else that isn’t family. But that is the problem.
Sunday’s hands tremble against your collarbones, pressing on them tight as if to brace you for something he has yet to tell you.
You want to reply, to let him know that you are delighted to be given such a precious gift. However, the collar wraps tighter around your throat, the fine edge digging into your skin. You can’t help but give out a whimper at the sudden tightness. It doesn’t take long for the young man to catch on the look of discomfort in your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as he releases the pressure on your neck. Instead, his fingers move further down, taking ahold of your nipple and giving it a slight pinch.
“I will take it that you love my gift. Very much,” he hums as he plays with your breasts, kneading them, and kissing along your jawline. His soft lips are so warm against your skin, it is almost relaxing until you feel something cold rubbing between your thighs.
Looking down, you can see his hand playing with the fabric of your panties, before his fingers find its way to the hidden clit, urging it to reveal itself with gentle strokes and caresses. In parallel, he begins to rub his crotch against your ass, wanting to give himself some form of relief until he’s done toying with your sensitive nub.
A tap. Catching you by surprise, his fingers patting flat against your flesh, parting the petals to deliver a proper spank to your pussy. In the sudden bloom of sensations, your body jolts forward, letting his hand dip further between your legs — making you open for another slap.
The salacious, squelching sounds have him clicking his tongue.
“Getting wet this urgently, yes? I’ve only just started touching you,” he whispers in your ear, the amusement apparent in his tone. “Are you perhaps a pervert, hm? Or did my sweet dove get so aroused just from looking at us in the mirror?”
Sunday slips a hand underneath the silk, gripping your inner thigh to stop you from closing your legs any further. While you aren’t really the type to get embarrassed by your own reactions, right now you can’t help but feel shame when you are met with his victorious smile as he values your beauty through the reflection.
“It’s alright, I love it when you get so worked up from the simplest things,” he chuckles before blowing a wisp of air into your earlobe. He doesn’t linger there for long and soon enough, he is peppering your neck with wet kisses, grazing your skin in a cordial manner.
It is known just how much you appreciate being spoiled with little affectionate gestures, melting with each and every token that the angelic lover grants you on every occasion.
Pulling his hand away from your core, he gives your panties one last pat, admiring how the damp fabric clings to your lips, illustrating your arousal.
“Did you know? Every pearl has a different kind of pattern and they are each unique,” he whispers before wrapping his fingers around your collar, his golden eyes staring into yours. “You’re the only one who will ever own a pair of pearls identical to these, my darling. Just like I own this one…” With that confession, his fingers pinch your clit through the silk, pulling it up to jab into your puffy cunt with the stretched underwear.
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marvelsswansong · 9 months
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Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only
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no but like seriously 🌞👉👈
Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.
This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.
Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.
If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.
"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.
Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.
"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.
But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.
So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.
He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.
After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.
You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.
It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.
His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.
What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.
Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.
"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.
"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.
"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."
"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.
You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.
She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.
"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."
With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.
"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."
You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.
"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.
Regardless of their gender.
Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.
BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)
You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.
Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.
"I'm not interested, sorry."
The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.
"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."
The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.
He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.
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a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe
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simplyreveries · 7 months
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octatrio when a customer is being mean to you
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azul ashengrotto
he usually keeps an eye on you throughout the day when working, even if he isn't always around because most of his time is spent in the VIP room swindling students. he'd giving you some sweet smile as he passes by and sometimes ask how everything is going- he considers himself quite lucky to be there to deal with this unpleasant situation.
azul is quickly by your side in a matter of moments as soon as he sees the guy giving even an ounce of irritation towards you. azul gives this blatant, fake, professional smile "oh dear... is there an issue here?" he'd inquire pretending like he really does care what this boy thinks. it's easy to deal with, because he is the manager of the place.
he is good at deescalating the situation and if it really comes down to it he'll bring in someone like floyd or jade to escort them out, that'll end up scaring the living daylights out of them. when they're out of sight he'll sigh shaking his head and adjusting his uniform, muttering how "troublesome" people are. you are the only thing he cared about feeling okay. he shows concern for you, but he still can't help but feel lingering frustration that you were even bothered like that in the first place. he'll tell you if there's a chance he isn't around and that happens again just get floyd or jade :).
jade leech
jade could see this situation happening from a mile away. he is painfully observant and already knew what annoyance this customer was going to bring. he was already lurking beside you ready to swoop in and save you from this guy. standing tall right behind you putting a hand on your shoulder, he'd have a calm and like azul an ever so fake look of concern for the customers wellbeing giving a "my, what seems to be the problem?".
he is so incredibly passive aggressive with the bothersome customer. showing such an unnerving look to them-- jade would actually be quite surprised if they tried to make any more of a scene, knowing who he is to others at school.
so, he manages to deal with the situation very easily. he almost finds the whole thing amusing to him if I'm being honest. chuckling, he'd give a small, graceful look of reassurance "fufu i hope you know not to take these things to heart, (name)." nevertheless, jade always seems to look out for you when he's got shifts with you. he knows how much of a bother some people can be.
floyd leech
he usually finds situations like these almost entertaining when shifts are tedious and boring- though he feels his mood goes sour and annoyed when he sees the guy making you upset and being mean. floyd is probably already next to you when you're approached by him. considering how he likes to annoy you and be clingy on shifts.
seems to have no patience and immediately gets defensive over you... like straight up gives a disgruntled expression and is like "eh? what's your problem?", "ok and?" zero formality. he has no qualms getting in people's face. the customer would most likely 1) completely backing off terrified of floyd or 2) getting even more upset because floyd just retorts back, even teasing him. if anything, it's someone like jade that needs to step in, so he doesn't do something out of line (ok as if jade is really any better???).
floyd will grumble and tell you how much that guy made him pissed off. yet his mood turns a 180 when he tries to cheer you up, he'll drag you claiming it's time for your break AND he'll even cook you up a lunch!!
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toxicanonymity · 11 months
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Midnight Snack.
3.4k slasher!Joel x f!reader
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slasher Joel masterlist | spotify SUMMARY: Joel has dinner with his Mom, then visits you. A/N: Shoutout to @iamasaddie for the master list mood board magnets, @gasolinerainbowpuddles for the edit and divider, fridge magnet anon ask, @thesummerpetrichor , anyone I'm forgetting?  WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe p in v, creampie, light somnophilia, choking, lewd degradation, home intrusion, manual restraint, spitting, toxic parental issues, angst/insecurity, changes POV, NO Y/N.  
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“I said I’m good, Ma,” Joel grumbles as his mom puts another heaping spatula of casserole on his plate anyway. He sighs and pushes it around with his fork. 
“What’s got ya down, hun?”  
“Nothin’.”
“It’s a girl, ain’t it?” She smiles. “Knew it. Last time ya were here, ya had that glow," she nods, then registers his sullen face again.  "It's okay, hun. Whatever it is, you'll work it out.". 
He hasn't stopped thinking about you since he was there. When he drives, when he showers, when he goes to bed, when he jacks off—he sees the desire in your eyes when you’re pinned against the counter. He sees your dripping hole stretched around his fist. He thinks about you every time he uses his wrench. Still smells like your filthy cunt. 
"Tell me 'bout her,” his mom urges. 
“Can't,” Joel mumbles. “Don’t got a girl.” 
His mom looks at him knowingly. She always sees right through him. He doesn’t like how close they are, but in a way, she’s his only friend.  He fails to suppress a little smile, then looks down shyly at his plate and finally takes a bite.  
She asks,  “How’d ya meet?” 
Joel gives her a half-serious cautionary look and keeps chewing. 
“Work?” his mom prods. 
Joel swallows, nods, and takes a sip of milk. “Gave'r a ride.”
Two rides, really. Although you took the second one all on your own. And damn, it was good. He shifts in his seat. 
“Well, great,” his mom lights up. “When ya gonna see her again?” She dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin and stands up. 
“I dunno, Ma. . .She’s too good for me.”
She huffs, adjusts her glasses, then walks over. She playfully whips him on the shoulder with the fabric napkin, then puts her finger in his face. “Don’t you ever say that. No one’s too good for my boy.” She takes his glass to the kitchen and pours him some more milk, then sits back down at the table. 
“already left me once,” Joel grumbles.
His Mom’s face falls, then sours.  
“Then she’s not worth your time." She scoffs. Or anyone else’s." 
“She’s different, Ma," he mutters deadpan, then quieter, he adds, "Sometimes I think she likes me," with the slightest lift of his brow.  
Mrs. Miller's eyebrows shoot all the way up. "Well, she should!"
"'mixed signals." He’s saying too much, but he can’t stop. It’s not like he has anyone else to talk to.
"Bring'er for dinner," she suggests.
"Ain't like that," he sulks. "We don't-" He cuts himself off and sighs, sitting back in his chair. He puts his napkin on his plate. "Shouldn't'a mentioned it," he mumbles. 
His mom reaches across the table for his hand, and he gives it to her.  He looks at the delicate, paper-thin skin covering the veins on her hand. It makes him sad. He wants to bring a girl home. He wants to make his Mom happy. He doesn't come by enough.  She must be so lonely.  And he's the one who. . .no, his father deserved it, he reminds himself for the millionth time in his life. He didn’t love them, his mom said. Resentment begins to overtake his guilt. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for her. He steels himself and decides to feel nothing. 
"Look at me, Joel."  She looks him in the eye. "You're not gonna get a wife like this, honey." Joel swallows and looks down. She continues, "Don't be a quitter. She's yours if you want her." Don’t be a quitter. 
The buzzer for the laundry goes off. Mrs. Miller starts to head to the laundry room, but Joel stops her. "Feel like a loser when ya do my laundry." 
She shakes her head in disapproval and starts clearing the table instead. "My son. . .” she picks up both their plates. ". . .Is not a loser." 
Joel finishes his laundry, watches some tv with her while she knits, then pulls himself away.  His Mom sends him on his way with an old tupperware of casserole. "Go get her," she tells him with a wink.
—-
He wants to make a move.  He wants to fuck you again, but he isn’t sure how.  How do people do it? He doesn't know how to ask you out, or what you'd do together. Every time he thinks about it, he feels stupid, but he does wanna see you.  He wants to be inside you. He wants to make you purr, little sex kitten. 
At this hour, you’re probably out whoring, but he might as well drive by while he’s close.  All your lights are off, but your car is there. Hmm. He can't bring himself to go home. Don’t be a quitter.  He sits in his car at the end of your street. Last time he came over, it went pretty well. You wanted him to fuck you, and he did.  You wanted more, and he gave you more. Then he left before you could leave him. 
He feels like you’re special, but he really only knows a few things about you. Most importantly, you like the danger, you want the thrill, you want his dick, and you sure can take a cock. 
The only thing he can think to do is give you more of what he knows you want. Even if you're asleep, you'll be purring for it as soon as he drags you out of bed and pins you on the floor.  He pictures a knife at your throat. Not a big one, just his switchblade. 
He gets out of his car and adjusts his balls, spreading his feet for a moment. Then he starts walking to your house.  After a few seconds, he goes back to his car for the casserole. Maybe you'll have a midnight snack after he stuffs you full of his cock. He rolls his eyes at himself. That’s stupid. 
—-
There's a lamp with a dying bulb barely flickering on your back patio with a couple of moths fluttering wildly around it. Joel looks into your dark kitchen and scowls at his reflection in the glass. He holds the Tupperware under his elbow and picks the lock with ease. After stepping into your kitchen, he quietly slides the door shut behind him. His boots thud stickily as he takes his first steps on the linoleum. Do you ever mop? He holds his switchblade open in the air.  He’s headed toward the hall where he expects your bedroom is.  He inches through the kitchen--between the counter on his left and the stove on his right, until he gets to your fridge.  
The surface of the fridge is peppered with magnets--souvenirs, letters of the alphabet, bottle openers. It's silly. But a piece of paper catches his eye and he stops dead in his tracks.  It's pinned to the fridge by a "J," and an "X" and an "O." He blinks and squints, but his eyes don't deceive him. It's his drawing of you, legs spread wide open. His chest flutters looking at his sketch of your cunt hung proudly on your fridge. His dick twitches, and he inhales sharply. His mouth is watering.  He dips the tip of his thick pinky between his lips and dribbles a string of saliva on the paper, right between your legs. He tilts his head and admires the way your graphite cunt glistens.
You want him. You really want him. His body relaxes. He closes and pockets his switchblade.  He opens the fridge as quietly as possible and puts the casserole on the top shelf, pausing to survey the scant contents. Mostly condiments. Takeout containers. Beer. Expired orange juice. He closes the fridge. 
The microwave is hanging down from a cabinet to his left. He steps in front of it and bends his knees enough to push back his hair in the reflection. He stands up again, squares his shoulders, then prowls in silence to your bedroom. 
---
The door is open. Of course it is. You want him.  His boots are quieter on your carpet.  He approaches the foot of your bed but doesn't get closer. You're occupying less than half the bed.  You're just as pretty in your sleep. All bundled up. He knew that already. He gets harder, recalling the time he woke you up with his cock inside you. God, you're sexy. How'd he get so lucky that a hot little slut like you wants him so bad?
He goes to the other side of your bed. His side. There’s a chair full of dirty clothes. He sits down on them and takes off his boots.  He stands up again and lowers the zipper of his jumpsuit, pressing down on his bulge to get the zipper over it without snagging. Then he peels the sleeves off and brings it down over his ass and meaty thighs. He lets it pool at his feet and steps out of it. 
He's left wearing a blue soft wash t-shirt, lighter blue striped boxers, and white socks with holes. He takes those socks off too. He approaches your bed, lifts the covers with care, and sees what you're wearing.  You're wearing the shirt–he recognizes its condition.  God damn, you really do want him.  
Joel gradually lets his weight onto your mattress as he slips under the covers. His heart races and his forehead is damp.  His cock is so hard just from being close to you. He lies there perfectly still on his side for a moment, watching your back as you breathe. Then he scoots forward, inch by inch, until his leg hair brushes your bare legs and you jerk in your sleep. 
"Shhh. It's just me," he whispers as he wraps his hulking arm over you.  He spoons you and lightly presses his hard cock against your ass. You moan in your sleep and push back, then he moans. 
You jerk in your sleep again, but this time you don't relax. You startle awake.  You gasp and whimper. Your limbs thrash, and his arm tightens around you. You squeal, and his massive hand covers your mouth.   He wasn't expecting your feisty side, kitten. He came to give you what you want. 
Why don’t you want him anymore?
-----you-----
Pure instinct kicks in when you wake up with someone in your bed. Your heart is pounding, you thrash and  kick with all your might trying to get away. He covers your mouth and repeats “It’s me, sweetheart. God damn.” He sounds confused and irritated at your reaction. His voice is familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it, despite thinking about him all the time in waking life.  It's like your subconscious hasn't caught up with reality, and can you blame it? 
"Would you stop? Damn," he pants, getting more irritated as you continue to struggle and his arm tightens more, compressing your chest.  What did he expect breaking into your house and getting into your bed?
You feel his hard dick press against your loose sleep shorts and get butterflies in your core, even as you continue struggling. He backs up for a moment and the pull of his arm forces you onto your back.  He pins you with his left forearm on your chest and aggressively yanks down your shorts then kicks them all the way off before getting between your legs. His hard cock lays against your clit, separated only by his boxers, and you're throbbing. Your efforts to free yourself get weaker and weaker until you’re just lying there, staring up at him, your chest getting sore under his arm. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily. 
He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. He presses his cock against your mound again. Over a long moment of silence, an electric charge passes between your eyes and his.  He slightly tilts his head and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm as you pull him down, drawing his face to yours. 
Your mouths meet but don't seal, and you find your lips reaching for his, wanting something to hold, something to suck–but he devours you without granting you any bit of control. You whimper as he kisses you hungrily, hard cock throbbing against your aching clit. He kisses you sloppily, biting your lower lip, dragging his tongue across it to the corner where he pauses and presses his teeth into your cheek and grunts with a slow thrust against you. Then he drags his lips and tongue down your jaw as you tilt your chin up.
He latches onto your neck with an "mm" and his hips begin to grind his thick erection against you at a slow rhythm. He grunts and his breath is humid with a moan against your neck before he latches onto it again. You feel the delicate skin bruising under his mouth while your pussy is gushing wet. You tilt your hips and wrap a leg around him. He groans at your slick, throbbing cunt against his cock. 
He murmurs into your neck, “God damn, you’re a slut for my cock,” then chuckles. “Aren’t ya, kitten?”
He lifts his pelvis off you to massage your cunt aggressively with his hand. You whine and he gives a low whistle.  Then he urgently takes his boxers down and you help him, curling a toe into the waistband once his boxers get down to his thighs.  You drag your foot down between his legs to his feet, taking his boxers with you. . He kicks them off the rest of the way. Before he lays his hips back into you, you reach for his balls, longing to feel the heft of them. It sends a bolt of desire through you. Fuck. 
"What's wrong with you?" You ask, but you're really asking yourself.  You’re asking yourself why you've got this sicko in your bed, someone unhinged enough to break into your house not once but twice and all you want is his cock. 
"Me?" He asks. "the fuck is wrong with you?" He wraps a hand around your throat. “Playin’ games with me,” he growls bitterly. “Ya want it, ya don't, ya want it–” you cough under his grip as he reads your eyes, then he whispers, "want it" with a small nod, and takes his hand away.
He notches his tip at your entrance then breathes, "don't ya?--uggghh" As he shoves into you. “Want it, you’ll get it,” he pants as his cock parts your walls. His cock spreads you wide open as he gives you his full length, and you gasp as he bottoms out. He withdraws a few inches and hangs his head to watch you swallow him back up.  
"God damn," he murmurs.  "Forgot how tight ya were before."  Your clit twitches at the thought of the wrench. 
Then his eyes come to your chest and the ripped shirt he gave you. He moans at the sight of your nipple poking through one of the slashes and he covers it with his mouth as he fucks you.  His wide tongue drags under your nipple and wets the curled edges of the slash in the shirt before his lips seal around your nipple.  He brings his hips back and pushes into you again, sucking and moaning into your tit. Your eyes fixate on his triceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves and that’s the first time it hits you that he was already in sleepwear. He undressed and got in bed with you. God, he’s weird. And you. You're. . . You don't know, but your hands are gliding on their own over his muscular back, feeling him flex as he pounds you. 
You find your fingers curling under the bottom hem of his shirt and he reaches one hand behind his back to help you remove it. You can't see much, but when the angle shifts, the moonlight catches enough to tell you his body has really been through it. When his head dips to your neck again you watch his hulking back muscles and see lines whiter than his skin. At least a dozen, overlapping lashes. You run your hand over it and the slight change in texture makes you wince with the confirmation. No telling how old they are. 
On his front, there’s a short straight line near his shoulder and a longer, thinner one on his side, curving around near his v muscle. Your thumb drifts to that one. Joel shivers at the touch, then slams his hips into you harder. You quickly abandon it, sliding your hand up his side, then to his pec. A wicked smile spreads across half his face as your hand runs across his chest. "Y'ain't scared, are ya?" He asks, breathing heavily with his cock dragging heavily in your dripping wet cunt. 
“No.” You thumb his nipple. 
He lowers himself and lets the weight of his middle onto you with a sigh, still railing his length into you. You wrap both legs around him, and he breathes "yeah, mmmgg baby, yeah" as he fucks you deeper. 
Your nipples go fully erect. "Fuck," he breathes when he feels them.  He grinds against your clit as he fucks you, and you feel a climax looming. The thought crosses your mind whether he's going to kill you one of these days and your chest erupts in goosebumps. Your face feels cold. 
As though reading your mind, he says, “don’t whore around on me” He reads your eyes then adds, "n' you'll be fine," with a small nod, a brief smile, and harsh thrust. 
You can't help but crack a smile at the absurdity of it.  The implied monogamy–on your side, at least. When he registers your amusement, his smile fades into a scowl and his eyes turn black. He grabs your jaw, squeezes it open, and spits in your mouth.  He grabs your hand off his chest and pins both your wrists harshly above you, holding them there with one massive hand as he fucks you harder, angrier. He looks down where your bodies meet, and he watches you take his cock again, breathing heavily, sighing and moaning.
Eventually his sour mood subsides, replaced by renewed marvel at your body. "Sure can take a dick." Your hips lift into him, seeking more pressure for your clit, near the edge.  "Didn't bring my wrench." He glances around your bedroom.  You moan at the thought of him shoving something inside you. Your walls twitch, and the deep groan that leaves his mouth is too much.  You grab his ass and pull him deeper using your hands and your legs.
"Fuck, Joel," you breathe, and a new softness spreads across his face. 
His mouth falls open and he whispers, "yeah, sweetheart." You bite your lip and groan as a huge orgasm seizes you. "Yeah," he whispers and his eyes map your face as your walls clench around him. "oh fuck," he pants as you cum on his cock.  "Fuck," he breathes again, "fuckin love this cunt," he looks you in the eye.  "Ohhhh," he groans and begins to pulse inside you. He lowers his face to your neck again and you keep cumming, your body jerking into his. "Yeah, fuck," he manages into your neck as his balls empty into you. "Mmmmm" he thrusts slowly one more time like he can hardly stand the pleasure. 
He pushes himself back up to look at you and shudders as you squeeze him with an aftershock.
"'s'okay," he whispers and brushes your temple with his thumb. “ruin ya in the mornin'” In the morning? He wants to stay over? "God you're hot," he chuckles, cock still inside you. After a long moment of silence, he slides his cock out of you and you wince at the void. He lays on his stomach and drapes his arm over you. Your heart races and you can only hope he doesn’t feel it. You don’t want him in your bed right now. He's a novelty and he has to stay that way. Yeah it was fun, it’s been fun. It’s fun. You have his stupid drawing on your fridge, like a wild memory, a souvenir. But this. . . this is unsettling.  
You can't get attached to this sicko. But you know better than to try to make him leave.  He gets that look in his eye sometimes, and you just don’t know.  You take deep breaths and try to plot how you’ll get out of this in the morning. You can say you have to work. Yeah, you’ll say you have to work.  Eventually, you drift off under the weight of his arm. 
------
Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys.
@toxicfics for notifications.
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elllisaaa · 10 months
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no nut november - yang jeongin (6th to lose)
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-> pairing : jeongin x fem!reader
-> words count : 3.9k
-> genre : smut, sexfriends
-> warnings : teasing, dirty talk, praising, lingerie, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), choking (f. receiving), creampie, little bit of angst (bc they are stupid (but cute)) + the way i'm depicting jeongin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november
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Jeongin hadn’t seen you since they all agreed on the bet. Your whole relationship was based on sex, aka the thing he wasn’t allowed to do for a month. So, if he was seeing you just for that, there was no reason he'd start missing you, right ? 
Right ?
Well, not really since your absence had created a hole in his life. Usually, he would text with you throughout the day, talking casually, joking around, and sometimes, when you were a bit tipsy, you would call him and tell him about more serious things. But it was okay, it was what friends did. Except you weren’t supposed to be friends, simply fuck buddies, calling the other when they were in the mood. But it slowly slipped in the most comfortable friendship he ever had - with a little bonus. 
He shouldn't be missing you, since he was talking to you every day like he normally would. But he was missing your body, obviously. However, this was not what was scaring him. No. He was afraid because he started missing cuddling with you when you watched a movie, simply sleeping with you, admiring your cute, sleepy face when you woke up in the morning, making you breakfast as you hung around in his clothes, sometimes back hugging him. 
That wasn’t what he should have felt. But here he was, regretting all the life choices that led him to this, particularly calling you to tell you he wouldn’t come over for a month, because of the bet. You insisted on the fact that he could still hang out at yours if he wanted to, even if you weren’t doing anything sexual. But Jeongin had refused your offer, knowing he would be too tempted if he did. He didn’t see your smile drop at the other end of the call, nor the sour feeling creeping up your heart. 
So, he was part of the reason you were getting drunk tonight - well, he was the only reason, but too much to admit to yourself at once. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept the fact that he literally said that the only thing he wanted from you was sex. You knew that was how it all started, but it was more now. You were friends. Or at least you thought, since you apparently were just a toy in his eyes. You took another shot to stop your thoughts, wanting to only think of you tonight, not him and his stupidly attracting voice every time he said your name.
“- Isn’t that Jeongin right there ?”
You turned around so fast that your best friend almost choked on her drink, laughing at your eagerness. But you didn’t care as your eyes fell on his silhouette. A smile lightened his face as he laughed at a joke from one of his friends, and you couldn’t help staring at him. It’s been so long since you had last seen him, so long since you had last felt his touch and his lips on you. The way your heart jumped in your chest was only another proof of how much you were missing him. 
He must have felt that someone was watching him, because Jeongin turned around, his eyes diving in yours. Suddenly, it was like you couldn’t breathe anymore, as if the only source of oxygen was him and that you needed him close to you to survive. His gaze lingered on your lips, more than they should have, and when he came back to your eyes, lust was burning inside of you, lust was written all over his face. You swallowed with difficulty as you turned to your friend again, feeling like you could pass out every moment. 
“- You’re okay girl ?
- Yeah… He was just not supposed to be there tonight, that’s why I came.
- Well, you don’t have to talk to him. Wanna go dance ?”
You smiled at her, chugging the rest of your drink before following her to the other room from which loud music was coming out. Yes, Jeongin should not have been there. The friend who threw the party was the one who introduced you to each other, and he had promised you that Jeongin wasn’t coming, too busy with work lately. But he was there, and now, you couldn’t think about anything else. 
So you just tried to forget, just for a moment - drinking too much, until your head started to spin, dancing too much, until your feet hurt. You were unaware of how many times Jeongin looked at you, of how many times he wished he could come to you, take you away from this party and spend the next three days with you all alone. You were breathtaking, beautiful, and almost unreal from how gorgeous you were, making it impossible for him not to watch you dance. 
But you didn’t notice, already too wasted to care about anything else than not tripping over your own feet. You were drunk enough to feel lightheaded, but not to the point where you didn’t know what you did anymore. At least, you weren’t thinking about him too much. Only looking one or two times in his direction before your best friend slapped your arm, making you come back to reality. And finally, you reached the level of drunk where everything and anything could make you either laugh or tear up really quickly. 
It only took one person mentioning Jeongin, simply saying his name, for you to feel tears fill up your eyes almost immediately. You were missing him too much for your own good, you were missing him even if you knew the only thing he wanted from you was sex. It was too much for your intoxicated brain, and you felt the need to be alone. You excused yourself, heading quickly to the bathroom, hoping to cry for some time and that you would feel better after. 
“- Y/N ?” 
His voice calling your name made your tears fall out of your eyes, rolling on your cheeks slowly as he reached you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, having no way to escape anyway. Jeongin's eyes widened, full of worries, as soon as he noticed that you were crying. 
“- Are you okay ? Well, I suppose you’re not okay since you’re crying but is it bad bad or just bad ? Do you need anything ? Do you want water, or a hug, or something to eat ?”
Your tears blurred your vision as you cried more and more every time he said something, unable to say a coherent word or sentence anymore. 
“- Is it too much ? Do you want me to leave ?”
His hand left your shoulders, and you shivered, feeling empty and scared immediately. You needed him with you, the only thought in your mind being his warmth when he hugged you, and how comforting it was. And you needed just that right now. 
“- No, no ! Stay with me, please…”
Jeogin nobbed, putting one hand on the small of your back, bringing you to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. And then, as if he had known you for years, he opened his arms with a little smile. It was as if we knew exactly what to do to make the sadness go away. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and he did the same to you, feeling immediately safe when you pressed your head against his chest. You sighed loudly, relaxing in his hold. Maybe he was the one because of whom you were crying, but for some obscure reasons, he was also the only one capable of calming you that quickly.
“- Feeling better ?
- Yeah…”
His question came to break the silence after a moment, after running his fingers through your hair to soothe your pain away, after just listening to the muffled sounds of voices and music coming from afar. 
“- Do you want to talk about it ?”
You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him closely. He seemed genuinely worried for you, his eyes giving off so much gentleness it made your heart flutter. He shouldn’t have that effect on you. He shouldn’t make you feel that safe, so safe that you wanted to tell him all about what you were feeling right now. That you didn’t know what to do in your life because your studies didn’t interest you. That you were feeling empty most of the time. That being with people was your only way of avoiding your thoughts. That he was the only one who made you feel like you had a place to be in this world. 
“- I… I feel like I don’t know where I’m going lately. I feel so overwhelmed and stressed all the time, it’s like I can never really rest. I only feel peace when I’m with you.”
Jeongin's heart started beating faster, his eyes still fixed on yours. Your gaze was spilling out with so much tenderness and gentleness he felt like he could pass out. He tried to breathe normally, not letting his emotions take over him. He should only care about you right now, only focus on helping you get off your chest what you needed to feel better. 
“- W-With me ? 
- Hm… Everytime you hold me, I forget about everything… I like you so much Jeongin…”
He suddenly felt like he was crushed by a weight on his shoulders so heavy it made his legs weak. He gripped on your shoulders, pushing you off of him, feeling the need to get some space between you in order to get his brain to function again. You what ? He couldn’t believe it. You were drunk. Yeah, he saw you struggling to walk straight an hour before. He knew you were saying this only because alcohol was running down your veins, not because you actually meant it. However, he couldn’t help the warmth that was filling him up at your words. 
“- You shouldn’t say that to me, you’re tired and drunk. I’m gonna take you back to your place, okay ? We just have to walk for a few minutes and you’ll be comfy in your bed.
- I didn’t say this because I’m drunk. I… Shit, it’s so hard to say…”
You chuckled to yourself, sighing as you tried to gather enough strength to let the words out, the words you wanted to let out for weeks, months. The words you needed to let out, just to get over him. He said it straight to your face, that he only needed you, wanted you for your body. But you couldn’t help hope from creeping up in your heart as Jeongin looked more and more nervous as silence lingered.
“- I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
His eyes widen, his heart sinking down in his chest. What did you mean you couldn’t do this anymore ? You couldn’t see him anymore ? Why ? Why did you want that to stop ? He liked it so much when he knew that he could just call you, ask you to come over and watch movies and series for hours, cuddling with you and not even talking. It was his favourite way to spend his time. He didn’t want it to stop. 
“- At first, I thought that it could work, but now I realize that it was a mistake.”
Jeongin opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but nothing came out, no words passing through the barrier of his lips. His eyes started to fill up with tears, as well as yours. It couldn’t be true. You couldn’t say that he was a mistake. He took a step toward you, still holding your shoulders, as if being close to you again would convince you that he was worth it. 
“- You… Are you serious ? Did I do something wrong ? Did I hurt you ? Please, tell me what I’ve done and I’ll fix it. Just talk to me, please.”
You felt on the edge of crying once again, trying to keep yourself together when all you wanted was to go back in time, when nothing was complicated, when Jeongin didn’t think it was his fault because it was all yours, when you didn’t have feelings for him. You messed up your relationship, not him. 
“- No, no, no ! You didn’t do anything ! You’re just… You’re just so easy to love. I didn’t mean to fall for you, but every time you stayed the night to make sure I was sleeping well. And all the times you came right away when I called you. It just made me want to keep you with me forever. You’re so perfect, it was impossible for me not to love you.”
Your sad smile made Jeongin’s heart crumble, a tear rolling on his cheek as he took your face in his hands, kindness pouring out from every one of his touches, of his looks. 
“- You do mean it right ? It’s just not just because you’re drunk ?”
You shook your head from left to right, a much more joyful smile spreading on his lips. 
“- Well, it better be because from now on, I’m not letting you go.”
Your own smile started to widen as his words made their way to your brain, struggling to believe what he had just said. 
“- You better not.
- I already love you too much for that.”
________________
The way back to your place never seemed so long as all you wanted was to embrace Jeongin and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe anymore. Which you did as soon as you walked past the door of your apartment, pushing him against the nearest wall, finally crashing your lips onto his. He hummed happily when you did so, slipping his tongue in your mouth as he gripped your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You threw away your coat quickly, helping Jeongin to get rid of his jacket as well. You needed to touch him, needed to feel his skin on yours. 
“- Too much clothes. Take them off.”
He chuckled when you slipped your hands under the hem of his white shirt, scratching his abs lightly, just like you knew he liked it, just to get him to whine like you expected him to. 
“- Do it yourself if you want it that bad darling.”
You groaned at his teasing, only making him smirk as he laid against the wall, watching you with so much desire in his eyes as you started to undress yourself instead. Teasing had always been your thing, turning you on some more every time you played with each other patience. And you knew very well that Jeongin was obsessed with your body. So you put on a show for him, pushing the thin straps of your black dress slowly past your shoulders before you unzipped it just as slowly. You let the material slide down your body as it revealed an emerald green set of lingerie. 
“- You’re so beautiful… 
- Want to touch ?
- Yeah.
- Then take off your clothes.”
Your smirk was back, and Jeongin couldn’t help loving it, loving all the things you did to him. He felt his body burning up with a hunger for you, with a hunger to lick every nook and cranny of your skin. His teeth sunk in his bottom lip as he watched you caressing your body, hands roaming around, grabbing your tits over your bra and whining at the feeling. He wanted to tease a little more, but the fact that he hadn’t cum since almost a month, and that he had missed you so much led him to just give up and throw away his clothes quickly. 
“- Happy now ?”
You chuckled in the kiss he gave you as he picked you up from the floor easily, manhandling you to your room, where he let you down on the sheets, towering over you immediately. He resumed his kisses, this time on your neck. He always spent extra time there, licking, biting, marking, kissing. He loved to see you struggle to hide the hickeys he left on your skin, loved to pretend it meant that you belonged to him. But now, it was not pretending anymore. You were his. 
“- You’d look so good with my hands around your neck darling…”
You’ve never talked about that before, but the thought of his beautiful, veiny hands wrapping around your neck, keeping you from breathing normally, applying pressure against your throat while he was fucking you was definitely turning you on. You ran your hands through his hair, moaning when he sucked at your sensitive skin one more time.
“- Do it then.”
His head snapped up when your words reached his brain. You actually wanted him to choke you ? It was something out of his wet dreams about you, something he never wished you would want too. 
“- You’re serious ? 
- Yeah… Always wondered what it would feel like having those pretty fingers squeezing my throat…”
The look in your eyes was enough for Jeongin to spread your legs wide, helping you get rid of your underwear, the last pieces of clothing ending up somewhere in the room. His hands ran from your ankles to your thighs, never getting too close from your wet folds. The little noises coming out of your mouth as he was teasing you were music to his ears, but he wanted to hear you moan, wanted to hear you cry out his name. Jeongin finally pressed his digits on your clit, rubbing it lightly as you sighed in relief. 
“- What do you want, darling ? My fingers or my tongue ?
- Fingers, please.”
He joined your lips again as he pushed two of his fingers inside you, groaning in your mouth at how wet you were. He missed the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, missed the way you were digging your nails in his back when he was fucking you, missed your hands tugging at his hair while you two were kissing. And you missed his touch just as much. 
Jeongin started to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy as his other hand traveled your body, from your hips to your breast, and finally, your neck. He wrapped his fingers carefully around it, applying little pressure, just to test the water, his other hand still working inside of your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, your walls clenching around him. 
“- You’re okay ?
- Hm… Tighter, please.”
He gulped, fearing that he would hurt you. But the moment he squeezed your throat harder, your moans increased, your pussy pulsating on his fingers constantly, he knew he was doing it just right - and he also knew that he was now addicted to this. You couldn’t even say a word, the lack of air making you feel lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you should have warned him, but your orgasm took you by surprise, your juices covering his hand as you fucked yourself on his fingers, letting go in the feeling of his hand wrapped up around your neck. 
“- Fuck Jeongin ! I need you… Please…
- But you just came…”
He let go of your neck immediately after you stopped grinding on his hand, caressing it gently as if he wanted the light red marks he left to go away. 
“- You’re so cute sometimes.”
He hitted your shoulder playfully as you smiled brightly.
“- I just don’t want to hurt you, idiot. 
- Just like I said, so cute…”
He shook his head before kissing you passionately, trying not to let you see how red his ears were. But you noticed it anyway, only making you want to stay in his arms forever. However, for now, you just needed him to touch you, to make you forget about all the time you wasted worrying about him sharing your feelings or not. You just needed your boyfriend. 
“- Jeongin… I really need you…
- I’m trying to find a condom baby, but someone keeps on distracting me.
- Don’t.
- What ?
- Don’t find a condom. I want you to fuck me raw, I want you to fill me up.”
Jeongin stayed still, one of his hands plunged inside the drawer of your nightstand while his eyes were fixed on you, wide open. He was dreaming, he could only be dreaming. But you hadn’t disappeared, nor seemed to be unserious. So he came back to you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, your fingers tugging gently on his hair immediately and making him whimper. He tried to stay focused as he placed himself at your entrance, sliding his cock against your wet cunt. 
“- Gosh Y/N… You can’t tell me things like that so easily…
- Why not ? Don’t you like it ?
- Too much… I’m sorry baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”
You pulled his hair to force him to look at you in the eyes, caressing his cheek softly.
“- I don’t care about that, we have all the time in the world. I just want to feel you in me.”
With that being said, Jeongin pushed past your folds, sliding right into you due to your wetness. The moans you both left out were certainly loud enough to wake up all your neighbors, but you couldn't care when he felt this good inside of you. You didn’t think that having the condom off would change the feeling so much, but you could now sense every curve of his dick thrusting into you, and it was driving you crazy.
“- S-Shit darling… You feel so good, so warm…”
You let out another moan, unable to do more when he pounded into you, hitting all the right places at once. You could feel that he was close by the way his cock was twitching inside of you, by the strength with which he was holding your legs up, by the increasing volume of his moans. But you could also tell that he was holding back, because his one and only goal was always to make you feel good. For once though, you wanted him to be lost in pleasure in front of your eyes, wanted to be the one making him fall apart. 
“- Go on baby, let go… I want your cum inside of me, I want it so bad.”
With one last loud moan, Jeongin collapsed over you, filling you up with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling of your walls being painted white. You’ve never felt so full before, never felt so entranced by seeing someone else's orgasm hitting them on. But watching Jeongin and running your fingers through his hair as he tried to get his breath back was one of the best ways to end your night. 
You almost thought that he had fallen asleep, until his hands started caressing the skin of your waist gently at first, then grabbing a handful of your skin just for the pleasure of hearing your little noises. You didn’t get the time to think before he let the kisses that were sprinkling the skin of your shoulders go down to your breast, your stomach, your pubis and the inside of your thighs. And only there, he looked back at your face, at your red cheeks and lust filled gaze.
“- What are you doing ?
- Making it up to you for being stupid… Plus, I always wondered which taste you’d have if I ate you out after filling you up with my cum.”
You moaned at his words and at his tongue licking you immediately after, Jeongin hiding his smudged smile between your thighs. Maybe that for once, you would stay for more than one night.
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