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#yet this was the first thing I thought of
screampied · 21 hours
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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.
wc. 7.0k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.
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“who’s he?”
a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.
“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”
“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”
you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”
“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”
“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment with a smile came his dimples, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.
that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.
nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.
of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.
apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang. do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.
your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.
you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.
you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes lingered into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.
stupid, maybe…
it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.
there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.
you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?
apparently, this guy.
toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.
it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.
to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.
“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.
your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was we, a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.
the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.
“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…
returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”
you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”
“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”
you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”
“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, girl.”
the banter…
he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.
you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”
“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”
he was so annoying, entirely so.
it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.
toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.
but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…
to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.
intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.
parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.
speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.
the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.
steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”
your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.
throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.
“hey. is it anymore detergen—”
toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”
you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”
toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”
“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”
you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”
“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”
this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.
you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.
“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”
“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”
this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.
you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”
“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”
“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”
he simpers. “pretty please.”
“……”
again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.
“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.
“that’s a good girl.”
his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.
desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.
“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”
“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.
he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”
“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”
“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”
and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.
without a doubt, he was a messy eater.
just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.
you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.
he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.
the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.
“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”
“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”
“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.
toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.
he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.
so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.
cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”
he was so mean.
such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.
“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”
you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.
it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.
your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.
“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”
“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.
he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.
“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”
“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”
“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”
you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”
“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.
while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.
you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.
running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.
“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.
“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”
your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.
“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”
“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”
“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”
“okay honey, if you say so.”
toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”
you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”
“maybe.”
you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.
you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.
toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.
the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”
“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”
“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”
you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.
a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.
“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.
ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.
toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.
“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.
his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.
he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”
“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”
“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”
you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.
you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”
his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.
he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”
you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.
that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.
toji was a patient man, but only for so long.
the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”
toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.
he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.
he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.
slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.
he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.
albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.
momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.
“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”
it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”
“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”
to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.
toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.
he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.
toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.
entirely so, it was still risky.
your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.
like four hours ago . .
he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.
oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.
your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.
you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.
toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.
“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.
your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”
“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.
“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”
toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”
you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”
your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.
it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.
“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.
dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”
“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes clothes, damn.”
you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right into toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.
toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand—you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable, but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs parted you made such a mess.
again…
it was probably the umpteenth time.
while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.
it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave now.
“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes look like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know who toji fushiguro really was.
maybe that story is ready for another day though.
thankfully you didn’t get caught.
or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.
while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.
a few seconds past before you father bellows out a pitched. “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”
the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds pass.
“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”
“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”
you mentally facepalmed, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”
“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”
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2K notes · View notes
uravichii · 2 days
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"best friends who kiss?"
character/s: bakugo katsuki
genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo
a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D
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the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.
"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"
"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.
you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.
you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."
then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.
you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.
"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"
"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"
you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.
"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"
"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."
he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.
"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"
and he's out of the door.
was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.
at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.
after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.
"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.
there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.
he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.
"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"
you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"
"s-sure."
when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?
he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.
"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.
"t's okay."
"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.
"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"
"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.
"son of a bitch."
the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.
you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.
now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.
he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'
"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.
your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.
you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.
bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.
you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.
you kick him in the shin.
"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"i was going toー"
"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"
"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.
"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"
he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.
"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."
silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.
"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.
you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."
"i'm not confused. i like you."
"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."
"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"
"stop saying that. you don't."
"i do, and you like me tooー"
"what?!" you laugh incredulously.
'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?
you do what is necessary again.
"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.
"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."
you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.
"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"
"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."
you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.
"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"
"we're not going to break it off."
"how do you know that?"
"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"
"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."
"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."
"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."
he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."
"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.
"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."
if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.
"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."
in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.
"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"
he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.
"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."
he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.
"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."
after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.
he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.
when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.
"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."
"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."
"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."
you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.
"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"
he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."
"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."
"fuck off!"
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TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)
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pucksandpower · 2 days
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It’s Only Natural
Max Verstappen x innocent!Reader
Summary: in which Max shows you that it’s okay to want
Warnings: 18+ content
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You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands folded primly in your lap. You watch as Max moves about, discarding his shirt and stepping out of his jeans until he’s down to just his boxers. There’s an easy grace to his movements, like a predatory animal comfortable in its skin.
Your eyes trace over the curves and lines of his body appreciatively before you catch yourself and quickly look away, heat flooding your cheeks. You hear him chuckle.
“See something you like?”
You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “I wasn’t looking.”
The mattress dips as Max sits beside you. He tilts your chin up. Reluctantly you meet his stare, the grey of his eyes as vivid as the stormy sky.
“It’s okay, you know. To want me.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “We’ve been together for months now. It’s only natural.”
You swallow hard, torn between embarrassment and yearning. “Wanting is … improper. Before marriage.” The words sound weak even to your own ears.
Max smirks. “Who told you that? Your parents? The church?” He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “They don’t own your body or your desires. Only you do.”
You shiver at his proximity, inhaling the scent of his skin. Like walking past a bakery first thing in the morning, the aroma of fresh bread wafting out onto the street. Your mouth waters.
“I know you feel it too,” Max murmurs. “This hunger. This heat between us.” His fingers trail down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Don’t be ashamed of it.”
Your breaths come faster. You’re trembling, but not from the cold. “Max ...”
He silences you with a kiss. His lips are firm yet soft, coaxing rather than demanding. The kiss deepens slowly, each brush of his mouth unraveling you further until you’re clinging to him, dizzy with want.
When you finally break for air, Max gazes at you tenderly. “How do you feel?”
You lick your tingling lips. “I-I don’t know. Confused. Like my body is doing things without my permission.” You press a hand to your heaving chest. “My heart is racing so fast.”
“That’s desire, liefje.” Max strokes your hair soothingly. “It’s new and frightening now, but you’ll get used to it.” He kisses your forehead. “There’s no need to be scared.”
You nod hesitantly. He’s right, this feeling is terrifying in its intensity. But it’s also tantalizing, a thirst you never knew needed quenching.
You take a deep breath. “What happens next?”
Max smiles encouragingly. “That’s up to you. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want. It’s your journey — I’m just your guide.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
Reassured, you lean into him. “Kiss me again?”
“With pleasure.”
This time when Max’s lips find yours, you let your instincts take over. Your mouth moves shyly against his at first but grows bolder, mimicking the way he teases your bottom lip, coaxes your tongue. The tender exploration sends pulses of heat coursing through you. You’re lit up from the inside, like a lantern glowing in the dark.
You come up for air again, dizzy and breathless. Max’s eyes are hooded, his own breathing uneven. “How was that?”
You press closer, craving the hardness of his body. “I want more.”
Max grins. “Do you now?”
Before you can respond, he captures your mouth again, kissing you with a passionate urgency that steals your thoughts away. You cling to him as the last of your inhibitions burns up like paper held to a flame.
There is only feeling now — exquisite, terrifying, blissful feeling.
When Max finally releases you, you’re shaking all over. He brushes the hair back from your face tenderly. “Talk to me. How are you?”
You wet your parched lips. “I feel … alive. Awake.” You glance up at him almost shyly. “Thank you for waking me up.”
Max’s expression softens. “You’re welcome.” He lies back on the bed, opening his arms to you. “Come here.”
You curl into him without hesitation, resting your head on his chest. His steady heartbeat grounds you as his fingers trail up and down your back idly. You trace random patterns on his skin, marveling at the way it prickles under your touch.
“Can I ask you something?” You murmur.
“Of course.”
You chew your lip thoughtfully. “How did you know? That I wanted this?”
Max considers the question. “I saw how your body responded to mine, even when you tried to hide it.” His hand slides to your hip, rubbing gentle circles. “I heard how your breathing changed when I got close to you.”
You flush at the knowing tone in his voice.
“Most of all though, I recognized the longing in your eyes.” Max tilts your chin up so you have to meet his earnest gaze. “You and I are the same. Our bodies have needs we can’t ignore.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Is it always this … intense?”
Max laughs. “No, it gets easier. The more you open yourself to pleasure, the less it will overwhelm you.” He plays with a lock of your hair idly. “Think of your desire like a wild horse. Right now it’s bucking and straining at the reins. But with time and training, you’ll be able to ride it smoothly.”
You consider this. “Have you trained your horse well?”
“Very well,” Max says wryly. “We understand each other perfectly.”
You bite your lip. “Will you teach me?”
Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire written plainly across his face. Your own excitement builds under that molten stare.
Finally he nods. “If that’s what you want.” His voice is slightly hoarse now. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.”
Your heart flutters wildly. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
Max clears his throat. “For now, just try to get comfortable being so close to me. Explore a bit.” His hand trails down your side. “Learn what feels good.”
You arch into his touch instinctively, craving more contact. Your mouths find each other again, hot and seeking. You let your hands wander across the warm planes of his chest, tracing each ridge and valley. When your fingers brush one of his nipples, Max makes a low sound that shoots desire through you like lightning.
You tear your mouth from his, eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?”
“God, no.” Max’s pupils are blown wide, fixed on you intently. “That felt good. Do it again.”
Emboldened, you experiment with touching him the way he touched you, learning which caresses make his breath hitch and muscles tighten. Before long Max is shaking under your hands, his control fraying at the edges.
“Enough,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the bed. “Any more and this lesson will be over far too soon.”
You grin up at him impishly. “Maybe next time then.”
Max groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But he’s smiling as he dips his head to kiss you lazily.
When he finally releases your wrists, you wrap your arms around him, enjoying the warmth and solidness of his body. You feel different now — more awake, more alive. Like you’ve stepped through a doorway into a bigger and brighter world.
“Thank you for today,” you whisper, meaning it with your whole heart. “I feel … free.”
Max kisses the top of your head tenderly. “You’ve always been free, schatje. I’m just helping you see it.” He lifts your chin so your eyes meet. “We’ve only just started. There are so many wonders still to show you.”
A thrill races through you at the promise in his voice. You settle against his chest again, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart as you fall asleep in his arms, unafraid of wanting anymore.
Your body and heart are finally coming home to each other.
***
Morning sun spills through the curtains, rousing you slowly from sleep. The other half of the bed is empty but still warm, and the faint clatter of dishes downstairs means Max is already up and making breakfast.
You stretch languidly, yesterday’s explorations still fresh in your mind. A newfound heat simmers in your veins, sending a flush across your skin.
You find Max in the kitchen, hair charmingly mussed, wearing only pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. He grins when he sees you.
“Good morning, liefje. Sleep well?”
You come up behind him, sliding your arms around his trim waist. “Mmm I did,” you nuzzle into his bare shoulder. He smells warm and masculine. You press a kiss to his skin, eliciting a pleased hum.
“Keep that up and I’ll burn breakfast,” Max says wryly. He turns in your embrace, fingers tilting your chin up for a slow, simmering kiss. By the time he pulls back you’re breathless and tingling.
“What’s gotten into you today?” He looks delighted.
You bite your lip coyly. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.” You flatten your palms against his chest, feeling his heart pick up speed. “I want to keep learning.”
Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire pooling in his heated gaze. “Finish eating first,” he says finally. “Then meet me upstairs.”
Excitement bubbles through you. You eat breakfast quicker than you ever have before, then hurry to the bedroom where Max awaits, sitting on the edge of the bed. He beckons you over with a crooked smile.
“Eager today, are we?”
You nod, leaning down to initiate a kiss. Max obliges, his mouth warm and seeking against yours. When you move to deepen it further, he gently grasps your shoulders and eases you back.
“Slow down, schatje. We’ve got all the time in the world.” His tone is kind but firm. “Let’s take this lesson nice and easy.”
You duck your head, chastened. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rush.”
Max tips your chin back up, eyes tender. “It’s okay. I know everything feels new and exciting.” His thumb brushes your bottom lip softly. “But the best pleasures are the ones we savor.”
Heart swelling, you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm. “Teach me?”
Max nods. “Come sit with me.”
You settle beside him on the bed, pulse skipping when he draws you close. His hands glide up your arms, raising goosebumps, before coming to rest lightly around your neck. His touch is reverent, worshipful.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “I could spend hours exploring you.”
He kisses behind your ear, along your jawline, each press of his lips languid and unhurried. By the time he reaches your mouth you’re trembling, hyper-aware of everywhere your bodies touch.
Max takes his time kissing you deeply, thumbs sweeping over your throat and down to your collarbones. You lean into him, chasing more of that exquisite friction, but he doesn’t allow you to rush. He pulls back again and again until you relax, surrendering to his pace.
“There you go, just like that,” he praises. “Nice and slow.”
You keen softly when his fingers trail down to trace along the neckline of your shirt, back and forth. He toys with the top button, watching your face attentively.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” you breathe.
Max smiles and pops the first button open. Then he pauses, bending to kiss the new inch of exposed skin. Goosebumps prickle across your chest as he continues his unhurried path downward, kissing each new glimpse of flesh laid bare.
By the time he reaches the last button you’re trembling violently, head tipped back in bliss. Max’s strong hands sweep up your sides and around to unclasp your bra. You gasp as the garment falls away, leaving you bare before him.
Reverently he cups your breasts, thumbs sweeping over your tightened peaks. The sensation wrings a desperate moan from you.
“You’re exquisite,” Max marvels. He bends to take one nipple into his mouth and your vision goes white, senses overwhelmed by slick heat. He suckles you gently, littering kisses across your fevered skin until you’re writhing mindlessly against him.
“Max, please ...”
He kisses his way back up to your mouth, face alight with tenderness and desire. “What do you need?”
You clutch his shoulders, nearly sobbing. “You. I need you.”
Max groans, deepening the kiss until you’re drunk on him, on this feeling. His body shifts, pressing you down into the mattress, and you go willingly, eagerly.
“Not yet, liefje.” With monumental effort he stills, pulling back to look at you. His eyes are dark, lips kiss-swollen. “Is this too much?”
You shake your head desperately. “Don’t stop. Show me everything.”
Max hesitates, muscles corded with restraint. “Next time,” he grits out. “I want our first to be perfect.”
He rolls off you and you whimper at the loss of contact. Max gathers you close, stroking your hair as you slowly come down from your near-high.
“You were incredible,” he murmurs. “So receptive. So passionate.”
You cling to him, heart still pounding. “I want you so much it hurts.”
Max tips your chin up, gazing at you solemnly. “I know. And you’ll have me, I promise.” He kisses you sweetly. “But forcing things too soon will only dull the pleasure later.”
You know he’s right. With great effort you tamp down the fever in your blood, focusing on the warmth and strength of his embrace.
“Thank you for stopping,” you whisper. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
Max smiles wryly. “You have no idea.” He caresses your face tenderly. “But your pleasure means more to me than my own.”
You lick your suddenly parched lips. “I’m ready,” you say simply. “Whenever you think the time is right.”
Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, stripped bare by yearning. Then he nods slowly. “Soon.”
***
The next few days pass in a haze of stolen kisses and wandering hands. Each touch stokes the fire between you higher, until you’re dizzy with anticipation.
When Max finally whispers that you’re ready, that tonight will be the night, you can scarcely breathe for excitement. He takes you upstairs after dinner, kissing you deeply before leaving to run you a bath.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”
You change into the lacy lingerie set you bought just for this occasion, hands trembling. The ivory silk and lace hugs your curves perfectly, making you feel delicate and desired.
Max returns to find you sitting primly on the bed, heart in your throat. His eyes widen, traveling appreciatively over you.
“You’re a vision,” he murmurs. He sits beside you, hand coming up to caress the line of your throat, tantalizingly close to the swells of your barely concealed breasts. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
He kisses you, slow and deep, until you’re breathing hard. With gentle hands he undresses you, lips following the path of revealed skin. By the time the lingerie slips to the floor, you’re trembling and ready.
Max rises gracefully from the bed, shedding his own clothes. The hunger in his eyes steals your breath away. He’s beautiful like this, powerful muscle and taut sinew under smooth skin. Your apprehension melts into awed desire.
“Come,” he says simply, holding out a hand.
He leads you into the bathroom where rose petals float across steaming water. Candles line the counter, filling the air with a soft glow.
Max helps you into the tub before sliding in behind you. You sigh, relaxing back against his chest. For a while he just holds you, lips grazing your temple, your cheek, the curve of your shoulder.
“Are you nervous?” He asks eventually. His breath tickles your ear.
“A little,” you admit. “Mostly just excited.” You cover his hands with your own, drawing them around to span your stomach. “I’m ready for you to have all of me.”
Max nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “You honor me.” His palms glide higher, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease your nipples. You arch into the caress, lips parting in bliss. He kisses down the slope of your neck until you’re mindless, head falling back onto his shoulder.
“Max ...” His name catches on a moan.
He kisses just beneath your ear. “Tell me what you need, schatje.”
You take one of his hands, guiding it lower beneath the water. Max exhales harshly when you press his fingers between your legs.
“Please,” you beg softly.
Max complies, caressing you in unhurried circles. The slick glide of his fingers has you shaking, pulsing against his hand. He works you higher with gentle expertise until your climax crashes over you like a wave. You cry out, collapsing limply back against him.
Max holds you through the aftershocks, murmuring praise and adoration. As you float back down he washes you tenderly, hands worshipping every inch of your spent body. By the time he helps you from the bath your nerves have melted away, replaced only by bliss.
Max dries you off before scooping you up and carrying you to bed. He lays you down reverently and you reach for him, needing to feel him against you.
He goes willingly, covering your body with his, all heated skin and taut muscle. You revel in the delicious weight of him, the intimacy of full-body contact. Max kisses you deeply, one hand trailing down to lift your knee, opening you up to him.
He pulls back just far enough to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?” His voice resonates with restraint.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Max.”
He kisses you sweetly as he finally, carefully, joins your bodies. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling of him filling you so exquisitely. For a moment you’re frozen, overwhelmed by the intensity.
Max stills, letting you adjust. “Talk to me, liefje.” His voice is tight. “Does it hurt?”
You run your hands up his back, grounding yourself in the solidness of him. “No. It just feels … big.” You shift your hips experimentally and have to stifle a moan. “But so good.”
Max relaxes slightly, some of the tension leaving his frame. “We’ll take this slow.” He kisses across your cheekbones, your fluttering eyelids, soothing you as your body adjusts to accommodate him. “Just breathe. There’s no rush.”
When you finally nod for him to move, he rocks into you in achingly gradual strokes. Each glide lights you up from within, pleasure swelling inexorably. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, taking him deeper.
Max groans. “You feel incredible.” He quickens just slightly, just enough to wring gasps from you both. “So perfect for me.”
You cling to him, this man you love beyond reason, beyond promise. He fills you in every way, heart, body and soul. “Max,” you breathe against his lips like a prayer, and his pace stutters.
“Say it again.” His eyes are molten, searing into yours.
“Max.” You pour every ounce of love and devotion you feel into his name.
With a ragged moan he claims your mouth, kissing you fiercely even as his hips snap against yours. You cry out, senses flooded by him, by the feeling of your bodies joining so exquisitely. The pleasure crests unbearably high before you shatter, clenching and shuddering around him.
Max follows you over with a harsh groan, chest heaving against yours. For an eternity all you know is each other, breathing as one.
Max rolls to the side so he doesn’t crush you, pulling you along so you stay cradled against him. You cling tightly, still joined, overwhelmed by what you’ve just shared.
Max tilts your chin up, eyes tender but concerned. “Are you alright?”
You smile shakily, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. “I’m perfect.” You press soft kisses across his face. “That was … everything.”
Relief breaks across his face. He wraps you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “Beyond anything.”
You snuggle closer, basking in the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his heart. “I love you too. Forever.”
Eventually Max slips from your body and you mourn the loss, even as exhaustion tugs at you. He cleans you gently with a warm cloth before pulling you against him once more.
You drift toward sleep, lulled by the soothing strokes of his fingers through your hair. Just before slumber takes you, Max presses his lips to your temple.
“Thank you for your gift tonight,” he breathes. “I’ll spend my whole life trying to be worthy of it.”
974 notes · View notes
ruefortherealm · 2 days
Text
The Way I Loved You
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➸ synopsis: he is your best friend, and yet, everything hurts when a certain Baratheon girl comes to your lives and Aemond starts neglecting you.
➸ word count: 7.95k (she’s long but worth it)
➸ warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, best friends to lovers, angst, love confession, inspired by Taylor Swift’s song, fingering, oral (F! Receiving), fluff, happy ending, Floris Baratheon, supportive Targtower family, mentions of Otto, Aemond is a bit of an ass at some point, creampie, nicknames (Sugar & Freckles). English isn’t my first language<3
➸ an: ohh so I don’t know if you remember or not, but this was one of the first posts on my blog! But anyway, I hope you enjoy it because I LOVE it especially when I turned the lyrics into my fave scene from this fic! Enjoy, reblog and tell me your opinion!
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“Aem, I can’t find you,”
You look around the airport, groaning when you can’t find him. The coffee in your hand is long forgotten as you search for him, sighing in defeat when you can’t spot his tall frame.
“I am outside, silly girl,” he says over the phone, chuckling when he hears your frustrated whine.
“Couldn’t you say it from the start? I have been looking for you forever!” You make your way to the exit, dropping your cold coffee in the trash on your way out.
“And miss on how you would curse me for wasting your coffee? Never, you know me better.” He replies, waiting for you to find him.
“I thought I was the teasing one, Mr. Targ, not the other way around.” 
“Call me Mr. Targ once more and I’ll leave you here,” he threatens playfully, “you know better than to mess with me, Sugar,”
“You won’t do such a thing,” 
You spot his significant white hair and his leather jacket instantly, smiling to yourself, heart hammering in your chest.
“How are you so sure?”
“Because you just love me too much, Aem,” 
He turns around at the sound of your voice, grinning when he sees you. He ends the call, opening his arms for you when you run towards him, picking you up and twirling you around as if you weigh nothing.
“Missed you, Aem, missed you so fucking much,” you say, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he held you up by your thighs.
“Missed you too, sugar. Even Vhagar misses you,” 
“Targaryens and naming their vehicles,” you roll your eyes playfully when he puts you down, faking a pout, “be grateful that I only have a backpack with me and not a big ass luggage.”
“Oh, trust me, Vhagar can handle ten luggages.” He says, handing you a spare helmet, as he puts on his own, his gorgeous sapphire eye hidden behind his dark sunglasses.
“Have you taken any girls on motorbike rides while I was away?” You tease him, expecting him to laugh, but you can see the hesitation in his voice when he answers.
“You know me,” he clears his throat, helping you up on his motorcycle before he sits in front of you, “I can’t woo women, Sugar.”
“Oh, please, you have already wooed me! Don’t underestimate yourself!” 
He chuckles, putting his own helmet on before he starts the motor. You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your head on his back as he starts the ride to their house.
You truly have missed moments like this; so peaceful and comfortable. Aemond has that effect on his closest people, and you consider yourself lucky enough to be his best friend and experience that side of him that is always so open and kind.
It has only been two months since you left to spend time with your parents over the summer break, but even in those two months, you thought of him and updated him on your daily activities — even though Aemond hates using his phone, he always makes an exception for you.
The wind blows, and Aemond swishes between the cars, making you squeal and cling to him more. He laughs genuinely, slowing down a little when he goes up the hill that leads to the entrance of the Targaryen house — not a house, but a mansion that you have grown to love so much since your senior high school year.
The golden gates open, and Aemond rides towards the end of the path to his parking, not trusting anyone with his precious Vhagar.
“Home, sweet home,” he says, running his hand through his wild hair and helping you down from the bike.
“Sweet home indeed,” you say, “Gods, Aem, I don’t think I can move to my dorm after I stay here for a month,”
“Who says I’m letting you stay in those shitty uni rooms? I know King’s Landing’s dormitory is the best in Westeros but no way in hell I would let you go there,” he replies, leading you to the entrance of the house.
“Aem, I can’t stay here! I am a guest, sure, not complaining at all, but I will be studying for two years, and I can’t under any circumstances stay here with your family,” 
A girl opens the door, greeting you before she grabs your bag and tells the two of you that the rest of the family members are in the great hall.
“I will not argue with you to kill the mood, Sugar, but we will have this conversation later.” he looks at you taking off his sunglasses, “Come, they’re waiting for us,”
“I look like shit, Aem,” you groan, smoothing your t-shirt in hopes of looking presentable enough.
“Sugar, you look perfect,” he pats your head and chuckles when you slap his hand away.
“I know Alicent and Hel are wearing something too elegant for a simple lunch and I am here with a gray tee and baggy jeans.” 
“Stop worrying, they have seen you in a much worse situation,” he smirks, pushing the door to the hall open before you have the chance to say something back.
You stop dead in your tracks when you look inside the hall; Daeron is chasing Aegon around, Alicent is sitting behind a desk, concentrating on the task in hand, and Heleana is busy with her needlework in another world — typical Saturday in the Targaryen household.
“Give back my phone, you piece of shit—” “Uh huh, lil bro, not a chance until I see who you are texting—”
“I am so going to murder you—”
Aegon sees you and runs behind you and Aemond, sticking his tongue out for Daeron.
“My dear sister-in-law will save me from the beast,” Aegon says dramatically, waving with Daeron’s phone in his hand.
“Hello to you too, asshole,” you flick his forehead, “And I am not your–”
“Daeron, you little fucker, are you texting Joanna Lannister?” He barks out a laugh, catching Aemond’s attention if he hasn’t had it already with the whole sister-in-law thing, “She is a piece of art. Good job, bro!”
You and Aemond glance at each other before you look at the youngest Targaryen, grinning ear to ear while Aemond smirks.
“Fuck you–”
“Boys, stop,” Alicent says sternly, glaring at the Targaryen men before her expression softens when she sees you, “I wanted to say behave in front of our guest, but you are no longer just our guest, darling,”
“Oh, I missed you so much, Alicent,” 
She pulls you in for a hug, embracing you as if she hasn’t seen you for ages.
“Me too, sweetling,” she says, rubbing your back gently, “I have to call your parents and adopt you myself,”
“She’d already be our sister, Mother,” Aegon says, gesturing at Aemond, who raises a suggestive eyebrow at him, “If only this duty-always-comes-first son of yours hurries the fuck up.”
“Ok, that’s enough, give me back my phone, and let’s have lunch,” Daeron interrupts, snatching his phone from his brother before he drags him to the dining room.
“Good idea,” Aemond says, clearing his throat as he looks around to find Helaena, “Go, Mother, I’ll bring the girls,”
“Just be careful, it’s one of those days again,” Alicent says and leaves.
“We’ve got her,” He replies as he walks to where his sister is sitting, unbothered by her surroundings as she hums to herself.
“Sister,” Aemond calls her gently, standing a few feet away to not scare her.
“Yes?” She doesn’t look up, but you can see the tension fading away from her shoulders.
“Sugar is here,” 
With that, she looks up, smiling broadly when she spots you.
“Hi!” She says, waving at you without standing up from the floor.
“Hey beautiful,” you say, waving back, “wanna have lunch with us?”
“Yes, I would love to,”
“Do you want me to help you?” Aemond asks, stepping forward to help her up but she shakes her head, a little frown on her face as she stands up by herself, maintaining a distance so she wouldn’t touch any of you, her needlework forgotten on the floor.
“Can you go ahead of me?” she fidgets with her fingers, looking at you in anticipation.
“Of course, come on, Sugar,”
He extends his hand, and you take it before you walk out of the room. You wrap your arms around him, and he does the same, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.
“It’s great to have you back,” he breaks the silence, glancing at Heleana who walks behind you slowly.
“I love you, Aemond,”
“I love you, too, Sugar,”
If only the two of you knew how things would change in a month.
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You fell into a busy routine around the Targaryen household in a few days. Every day was a challenge itself with the boys, but the fun was endless. Especially since Aemond had tried to steal you away from Aegon and Daeron after they had forced you to tell them more about uni girls — not Daeron though, he only asked about Joanna.
You would watch TV shows at 2 in the morning with Aemond in his room, read a book with him, and plan the rest of the summer together.
Everything is easy with him — from telling your opinions freely to giving him a show of your newest clothes which his mother has purchased. He is everything; a good listener, a great partner in crime, a wonderful person, and the most perfect best friend someone can ever ask for.
And that’s what makes it harder for you to keep your facade up around him. He knows when you lie when you feel uncomfortable, or overthink every single interaction you had throughout the day, and he does whatever he can to keep you calm and happy.
Aemond is always on your mind, whether you are on a date, comparing the person next to you to your best friend, or when you are in classes, even when you are next to him, your mind wanders around him.
And now that he is diving into the pool with his long hair in a low braid, you are losing it. 
You have always found him handsome, despite the scar on his cheek, you never felt anything but love and affection for him, even though he was a complete jerk to you at first, you never despised him for his eye.
You sit at the edge of the pool, applying sunscreen on yourself as you watch him swim in your direction. He stops in front of you, resting his chin on your thigh, looking up at you.
“Y’know, Sugar, why don’t you come with me to the party tonight?” He asks, his large palm caressing the softness of your hip.
“Because it’s a business party, and I am not so keen on meeting Jason Lannister again,” you roll your eyes at him when he chuckles.
“I won’t leave you alone,”
“You promise the same thing every year, and you still leave me alone with all the champagne in the bar.” 
You push a few wet strands of his white hair out of his face as he looks at you with that heart-melting gaze that has you wrapped around his fingers.
“No,”
“Please? Pinkie promise,” he holds his finger in front of you, “I will even take you to our spot after that,”
“Damn you and your charm, Freckles,”
“Call me that again, and I change my mind,” he smirks when you swat his arm.
“You won’t dare,”
“Try me, Sugar—“
“Will you two stop flirting, and fuck each other finally?” Aegon groans, putting his sunglasses on before he sits on one of the lounges with his cocktail, “or if you don’t perhaps I can shoot my shot with her, huh? What do you say, Sugar?”
“I say you should shut the fuck up,” you reply, caressing Aemond’s head gently while he rests his head on your lap, his arms wrapping around your torso.
“Why? At least I can show you a good time,” Aegon pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose, winking at you. Luckily, you are used to his behavior.
“Hey, look at me, Aem,” you grab his face when you feel him tense under your touch, “He is Aegon, he literally tells every moving thing to get in bed with him. This is not my first time.”
“I know,” he drops his forehead on your thigh, “he does it to get under my skin,”
“And you let him,” you sigh, splashing some water on his face, “anyway, what should I wear tonight?”
He scrunches his nose, tickling you in revenge, “I’m sure Mother has something for you ready in your room by now,” 
“Alright, Aem, but I will not ride on Vhagar with a long dress,”  You squeal when he pulls you down into the water, keeping his fingers on your side as he tickles you.
“Don’t worry, Sug, Baratheons will send us a Limo,”
“A Limo?” You grab his hands to stop him.
“Holy fuck, I need to come with you two—“ Aegon says hurriedly, looking at his brother in disbelief.
“Your father owns the biggest company, you live in the most expensive mansion in Westeros, and you drive Sunfyre, but you still get excited over a Limo?” Aemond shakes his head, sighing in defeat.
“Aemond, I can drink and have sex while someone else is driving. That is all I ever want,”
“I won’t let you fuck up tonight,” Aemond warns him, pointing his finger at Aegon who whines like a child.
“I mean if he doesn’t fuck while we’re in Limo with him, I can tolerate his company,” you say, shrugging your shoulders when Aemond glares at you.
“And what am I doing there exactly?”
“Sealing the deal, like you always do,” Aegon leans back on the lounge, looking at you two from the rim of his glasses, “your girl should stay entertained while you go play the hard-to-get man.”
“That’s exactly why I loathe taking you to these events,”
“Aem, I keep an eye on him, besides, I won’t be left alone,” you try to reason with him, but you only get a disapproving sigh in return.
“You won’t be alone, I promised to keep you by my side,”
“And yet, you have to talk to those noblemen for the good of the company. I can keep him on a leash, trust me,” you turn around to look at Aegon, “ain’t the right, Egg?”
“Gods, you and your stupid nicknames,” He laughs, nodding in response, “but yeah, anything for you, my lady.”
What a night you have ahead of yourself…
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The dress you see when you walk into your room after lunch with the Targaryen family is nothing short but phenomenal — a sapphire blue satin dress that reaches the floor with a slit up the left leg. Not only the dress, but you find diamond earrings as well on your vanity.
Alicent always chooses your outfits for these events, not because she is the controlling type of woman, but because she genuinely enjoys fashion and you can never thank her enough for all the great and beautiful dresses she has bought you.
You look beautiful as you look at yourself in the height-length mirror; the fabric of the dress feels smooth on your skin, and it hugs your curves so beautifully. You put your hair up in a bun with two strands left framing your face, and you smile brightly when Heleana looks at you, beaming at how elegant you look.
“Do you think he’ll like it, Hel?”
“He’ll love it,” she replies softly, stroking your hand.
The door is pushed open by Aemond after two knocks, and lord does he take your breath away with his looks — his platinum hair is down, his tall frame is shaped by the black tuxedo he is wearing and his sapphire tie that matches your dress is resting around his neck.
Heleana can feel his brother’s heart beating faster when he looks at you, sizing you up with his violet eye, a small smile plastering on his thin lips.
He has to remind himself that he can not drag you to his room and kiss your breath away, because with the way you look at him — so in awe as if he is the most handsome man in all Westeros — he has to keep his thoughts pure, or he won’t survive the consequences of his actions.
“Phenomenal,” he whispers, nodding in gratitude when Heleana leaves the two of you alone.
“What is?” You ask, taking a step towards him.
“You are,” he caresses your neck with the back of his hand, turning you around as he stands behind you, “I brought you something, Sugar.”
He holds the velvet box in front of you, and you thank him before you open it, gasping at the sapphire necklace inside. It matches his eye, and you can’t form a word as you look at how it shines under the lights of your room.
“You shouldn’t have,”
“Yeah, because this is nothing compared to what you truly deserve,” he replies, catching the necklace from you while he rests it gently on your neck before he clasps it.
“You are the most perfect best friend I could have ever asked for,”
Your heart aches when you say it, but you can not risk to lose him — he is the source of your happiness, your one and only, your partner in crime, your best friend. So why does it hurt so much when you say it aloud? You love him, you truly do, but perhaps that’s the problem. 
“Ready to leave, love birds?” Aegon pokes his head out from the door, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you.
“Yeah, lemme grab my purse and we’re good to go.” You say, ignoring Aegon’s suggestive remark.
Aemond offers you his arm, smiling at you as he leads you out of the room behind his brother. The limousine is waiting outside, and you and Aegon grin at each other when you see it.
“After you, my lady,”
Aegon bows, opening the door for you, smirking at you when you punch his arm playfully. Aemond follows you into the car, his lips twitching upward when he sees how you are looking around the car.
“Brother, I will come to every single event you attend just to see their cars,” Aegon says, hands already reaching for the bottle of bourbon.
“Don’t get too drunk and make a mockery out of us,” Aemond hisses at him, his hand resting on your thigh to calm himself.
Physical touch was something so out of the question back in the first few months of your friendship, but soon you realized all he needed was a solace, a hug, and a gentle hand running through his hair when he was nervous.
You were fortunate enough that he found that solace in you.
Throughout the ride towards the destination, the three of you had a shot to loosen up a bit, and you were glad that Aemond calmed down a little until you made it to the location of the party.
When you arrive, Aegon is the first to burst through the car door and stands aside for the flashing cameras to focus on you and Aemond.
Aemond steps outside, extending his hand for you to take as he helps you out of the car. You are flustered at how he keeps looking at you, as if his world orbits around you as if you are the air to his lungs, and it fills you with a new sense of giddiness when you are the center of his attention.
“Shall we?” He asks, offering his arm to you.
“Of course,” you link your arm with him, walking ahead of Aegon to the main entrance of the building while the cameras flash and take pictures for the press.
Everything looks so extraordinary, and that is what Baratheons are most famous for. Even though you are used to being on such occasions with Targaryens, you still feel a little out of place, but with Aemond by your side, nothing can cause you a sour feeling. 
Or at least you think.
As soon as you step into the hall, you are met by none other than Borros Baratheon himself. He greets the boys and nods your way, not paying you any attention as he is completely focused on Aemond, whisking him away from you at the first second he can.
Aemond glances at you, mouthing his apologies as he is carried away by Borros, leaving you and Aegon to help yourselves with champagne and the delicious snacks near the bar.
Soon, Aegon breaks apart from you and finds himself in the company of another woman, who will undoubtedly take him to her place tonight. 
You take another glass of champagne, looking about the room. Most people are engaged in talking business, some are trying to have a great time, and someone like Aemond is being introduced to one of the most beautiful girls you have laid your eyes on.
Aegon and his companion appear next to you, watching the scene as Aemond presses a kiss upon the girl’s knuckles, earning a bashful smile from her.
“Who’s that?”
“Jealous much?” Aegon teases you, but shuts up as soon as he sees your expression, “that is Borros Baratheon’s youngest daughter, Floris.”
“I haven’t seen any of his other daughters around,” Aegon murmurs quietly to the girl next to him.
“I haven’t either,” she replies, watching as Aemond shakes Borros’ hand and offers his arm to Floris, much like he did to you.
He takes her to the dance floor, putting his hand on her waist as they sway with each other, and you watch them, even though you know you should turn your back to them and enjoy your night, all you can focus on is how Aemond smiles at her, how she giggles when he says something — how he treats her like you.
“Sugar, don’t look at ‘em, alright? He is doing this for business—“
“Aegon, I don’t care. I am his best friend, not his girlfriend,” you whisper, exhaling as you watch them come in your direction.
“Sugar,” Aemond says, putting a hand on your shoulder, “this is Floris Baratheon, Floris, this is Y/N, my friend.”
“Oh, hi,” she looks you up and down, a smirk on her face when she shakes your hand.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” you rush the words out of your mouth, already uncomfortable by her judging stare. 
You are beyond thankful when Aegon jumps in and introduces himself, taking the edge off your shoulders for a few seconds.
“I was telling her about your major in university,” Aemond says, his hand still on Floris’ waist.
“Oh,” 
“Yes, he talks highly of you,” she says, looking up at Aemond who is only focused on you right now.
“He is a great friend,” you smile at the pair, fingers tightening around your glass as you take a sip from it.
“A great friend indeed—“
“Can I have a moment with Sugar, please?” 
You are beyond thankful when Aegon comes to your rescue, grabbing your hand and taking you away from them. You sigh in relief when the fresh air hits your heated body, dropping your head on Aegon’s shoulder as you stand outside.
“I wanna leave, Egg,”
“Why don’t you talk to him, Sugar? Stop denying—“
“I am not denying anything,” you raise your voice a little, straightening your back to look into his eyes, “he’s my friend and he seems happy! That is what’s important to me; his happiness. I will not act selfishly because of something that only I want.”
“He is happier with you—“
“I’m not having this conversation right now. I wanna leave, I’ll see you in the house,” you press a quick kiss to his cheek before you walk towards the exit.
You know he is not yours to feel jealous, he is just a friend as he told Floris, but the pain in your heart when he smiled at her — one of those smiles that he only showed you when he would talk about something he truly loved — you knew you had to go.
“Sugar, wait—“
You stop in your tracks when a rough hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him. 
“Are you alright? Why-why are you leaving?” Aemond asks, caressing your cheek as you brace your hands on his chest.
“I don’t feel well, Aem,” you pay his chest with one hand, smiling as best as you can, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “I think I’m a bit dehydrated,”
“I can go and grab you—“
“No, no, no, Aem, listen, I have a terrible headache as well. All I need is sleep, OK? I’ll meet you in the house, go and have fun.”
“I promised not to leave you alone,”
“And we both knew you had to break it because this is business, not a frat party, Aem. Go, I’ll see you later. Love you,”
“Love you too, Sug,”
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From that night, everything has changed — Aemond was always in the company’s building, or out on business meetings, or he was too tired to spend time with you, not only that but he told you a few times that he was going out with Floris Baratheon.
You try to be happy for him, you truly do, but when he stands up mid-conversation to answer her phone call and leaves you without any more explanation than ‘I’m heading out for dinner, don’t wait for me’ without glancing at you, you can’t help but think how easily he is setting you aside.
The month you had planned the first day you arrived is passing and you only did manage to spend a few hours with him before he vanished from your sight.
It has been two days since he has answered your calls and texts, and you are going mad. You have no idea where he is, or who he is with, but more than being angry with him, you are worried about him.
It’s half past midnight and the movie you are watching with Daeron and his girlfriend can’t catch your attention enough to stay with them. So you leave the hall and go upstairs to find Aegon and Hel to spend some time with them while no one is on your mind except your best friend.
You are about to walk past Alicent’s office when you hear his voice from the speaker of her phone. Morally, you know it's wrong to eavesdrop but you have been concerned about him for so long that you need to know if he’s alright.
“Mother, I can’t go against grandsire’s words—“
“You can, and you will, Aemond,” you hear Alicent yell at him over the phone, “you have done enough for this company! I will not allow you to destroy the only thing that has kept you sane!”
“I can’t risk not having the deal—“
“So you are willing to risk your happiness? Is that what you are saying? Because Aemond, I swear to the Seven if you don’t make this right…”
“There is nothing to make right! I can’t ever make her happy, I can’t give her what she wants—“ 
Alicent cuts him off again, “Listen to me, you are making her happy, and she has been—“
“Mother, I love her,”
Your heart drops, eyes watering slightly as you listen to them. He is in love, and all you can imagine is him and Floris — every single moment you spend here in the mansion, thinking of him if he has eaten, if he is alright, he is spending time with Floris.
“That’s why I want you to make the right choice,” Alicent says softly.
You can no longer stand and listen to them, you walk past the room, wiping your tears as another sob rocks your body.
“Psst, Sugar,”
You turn around, eyes red and puffy when you see Heleana and Aegon sitting in the corner of the hallway.
“Why are you crying—“
“He loves you,” 
Heleana cuts Aegon off, her violet eyes shining under the moonlight. You always knew Heleana was different, she caught up on everything before others could even see the possibility, and she could read through people’s minds.
“I thought that much was obvious,” Aegon says, looking at you with confusion.
“What?” You ask, shaking your head at them.
“Fuck me,” he sighs, throwing his head back, “you two are idiots! Even dumber than me.”
“Aegon, what the fuck are you talking about?” You throw your hands up in defeat, sighing when he just shakes his head.
“Aemond loves you,” Heleana whispers, resting her head on Aegon’s shoulder.
“Yeah, as a friend who is neglecting her—“
“As his sun and moon,” she interrupts you, looking outside the window as the rain starts pouring down, “you are not his friend, you are the only person who has his heart in the palm of your hand.”
“I heard him say he loves Floris,”
“Did you hear her name?” Aegon asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“No,”
“Then stop acting like brats! Have you seen how he looks at you, Sugar? He wants to breathe you because you are the only person who is keeping him sane. He wants nothing more than to let you tend to his eye because he is too proud to let anyone near him! He wants you! Fuck Floris, fuck Otto, fuck them all! Do you even know why he has been avoiding you? Because he is too much of a coward to look at you and go on a forced date with Floris. He is falling apart because his heart yearns for you, but Otto has put a leash on it.”
Your lips quiver, tears streaming down your face as you look at the Targaryen twins. Heleana is smiling, and Aegon is furious of you and his brother.
“He bought a house a few months ago,” Aegon searches the pocket of his sweatpants, grabbing his Lamborghini’s remote before he throws it at you.
“He didn’t tell me,” you catch the remote, fiddling with it, unsure of what to do with it.
“No one knows except me, Hel, & Daeron. He needed a place to clear his mind of you, because you’re the only thought that lingers in his head, he needs to find somewhere where he can be alone,” Aegon rests his head on Helaena’s before he continues, “Now, go get your man. I’ll send you the location.”
“Thank you, Egg,” you whisper, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your shirt.
“Go now, before he sleeps. And for my sake, please drive slowly with Sunfyre, my baby is delicate when she goes out in the rain.”
“You Targaryens and naming your vehicles,” you smile a little, waving goodbye to the pair as you rush down the stairs.
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Aemond’s house was located on the other side of the town, on top of the hills and near the woods. It took you an hour to drive there, but that gave you enough time to make up your mind.
You slow down your speed when you see the house, trying your hardest to keep yourself from sobbing as you look at your surroundings; everything screams Aemond, from the location to the look of the house — it looks like home.
You park the golden Lamborghini, turning off the engine before you step out. The lights are still on, and you know Aemond will not sleep until three in the morning when he is anxious — perhaps his call with Alicent has left him hesitant.
The rain pours on you, and you debate whether you should knock or just leave. For a second, you turn around to go back to the car, but Aegon’s words keep playing in your head; He wants you.
“Aemond!” 
You yell out his name, pushing your wet hair out of your face as you stand in the middle of the road.
“Aemond, please!”
You cry, sniffing as you wait for him to show you a sign that he is willing to listen, to hear you for once and the last time. 
You see his shadow reaching the window on the top floor, pushing the curtains away as he looks at you in shock and disbelief. You watch him shut the curtains and move away from the window.
The rain pours heavily on you, the sound of the water droplets falling on the car behind you and the wind blowing is the only thing that can cover your sobbing — a weather that resembles your feelings at the end of summer.
You are ready to turn around and drive back home when he doesn’t show up, but as you hear the sound of the door unlocking, you turn around to find Aemond in a black Tee and gray sweatpants with his hair in a bun.
If you weren’t already so in love with him, you would be by now.
“Sugar, what are you doing here?”
“Just-just listen, alright?” You start, holding your hand to stop him from reaching you when he walks towards you, “I always believed that the right person for me would come, that I would feel some type of magical attraction, that I would feel as though heart will give out and that-that I’d suffocate without him, but I had no idea that I have had him by my side all this time.”
You continued, “These past few days I have realized who that person is; Aem, I burn for you, my soul longs to be molded with yours, my heart breaks to pieces when you are not close to me, and the only thing I want is to be loved by you.”
You step closer to him, staring at him; a few strands of his hair have fallen out of the bun, his shirt is soaked and you can see his cheeks are covered in little droplets whether it’s from the rain or he has been crying as well.
The only thought that crosses your mind is how wholesome he looks.
“Until you tell me to leave, I will be here by your side, every single fucking second! I will love you forever and always, until I stop breathing for you, and even then, when I’m six feet under, I will still yearn for you, Freckles. ‘Till then, my heart beats for you, fast and raw, and I’ll let you steal it every goddamn time because I can’t imagine my life without you — without our messed up baking and you calling me Sugar, or how I pointed out your freckles on your neck, or-or how we would sneak out of your stupid family parties with Hel and Egg and go to karaoke even we didn’t like it but we did it for Hel.”
You grab his hand in yours, pressing little kisses all over the rough skin, loving how delicate your hand looks next to his larger one.
“I found my love in my best friend, and if I was given a choice, I would choose you without hesitation over and over, because that’s the way I loved you, Aem, and I still do,” you take a deep breath, staring into his eye, “I have nothing new to present to you, maybe Floris or any other girl can. This is what I can give you; my undying and unconditional love. Tell me you are happy with her, and I’ll leave, Aem. Whatever you want…”
He stays silent, and for the first time, you can’t read his emotions, and it wrecks your whole body as he keeps quiet. This is it then, you think as you let go of his hand, nodding before you turn around to go back to the car.
Suddenly, he wraps his fingers around your arm, yanking you back into his embrace, crashing his lips to yours, kissing you with a force you have never seen before.
He tastes like coffee and rain; it’s the most comforting flavor you want to taste for the rest of your life. He cups your cheek while his hand rests on your waist, keeping you flushed against him. His lips chase yours, and you whimper in his mouth as he sucks the breath out of you.
Finally, you think, he is right where he belongs.
He pulls away after a hot minute losing himself on your lips, looking down at your swollen lips, his sapphire glistening under the lights of the thunder and water drops.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, caressing your cheek lovingly.
“I said a whole fucking speech here, and you tell me I am beautiful?” You grin up at him, pecking his jaw as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You are hauntingly beautiful. So breathtaking to the point that even the most talented artists wouldn’t do your beauty justice if they try to recreate it,” he ignores your teasing, his eye carving the image of your angelic face in his head, “Even the most beautiful flowers in Highgarden are not as mesmerizing as you are.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm,” he hums, kissing your forehead.
“Perhaps you should start writing poems for me.”
“Would you like that?” He asks, lacing his fingers with yours, leading you towards the house.
“Yes, very much so. Maybe you could read them to me when we are sitting in front of the pond in your garden,”
“The only thing I want to do to you is kiss you, you shall read those poems all by yourself,” he replies, pushing the door further open before he hands you a towel he has brought down when he sees you standing outside.
You look down and see a puddle of water surrounding you as you both are soaking wet from the pouring rain outside.
“I’m sorry—“
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Sug. C’mon, let me give you some clothes,” he takes his shoes off, and you do the same. He grabs your hand, pulling you upstairs to his room.
You don’t have enough time to look around the house, but when you step inside his room, the first thing you see is a framed picture of the two of you on the desk in front of his window — you had gone to Winterfell that year for Christmas together, and you forced him to take that picture with you.
“Here,” he hands you a fresh pair of boxers and one of his t-shirts, “you can take a shower if you like.”
“No, I’m too tired for that. Thank you for the clothes,”
“Anything for you, Sugar.” He winks at you, turning his back to you so he can change. 
You open the bathroom door, grinning like an idiot as you look at your reflection in the mirror. You looked like a mess, but you never felt more beautiful than you do now. 
You are hauntingly beautiful, his words repeat in your head.
You walk out of the bathroom, your words stuck in your throat as you look at Aemond’s exposed back — he is lean and ripped with muscles, and you can see his muscles flex as he puts on his shirt.
“I can get used to this,” you mumble, arms wrapping around his torso from behind.
He chuckles, putting his palm on yours, smiling to himself as he feels you pressing gentle kisses all over his back.
“You will get used to this, Sugar.”
He turns around, holding you close as he gazes at you with pure adoration.
“You are tired,” he announces, pulling you with him on the mattress without any care that both of your hairs are drenched.
You lay your head on his forearm, pecking the side of his face as he looms over you halfway, his free hand playing with your fingers.
He dips down, brushing his lips over yours slowly, but you are far tempted to go at his pace. You kiss him back fiercely, earning a surprised groan from him as he reciprocates. He lets go of your hand, running the pads of his fingers over your exposed thighs while you fumble with the fabric of his shirt, trying to push it off him.
He breaks the kiss to take his clothes off, and you do the same, lying naked beneath him. Your eyes travel over his tall figure, hands caressing the skin of his chest as he takes you in.
“Am I in heaven?” He asks breathlessly, his lips trailing kisses from your cheek down to your collarbone.
You giggle as he comes up again, pulling your lips back to his, leaving a kiss on them.
“No, you are with me,”
“That’s even better, Sugar,”
He beams at you, giving you another lingering kiss before he starts licking and sucking on your skin, relishing the little whines you let out.
His hands knead your breasts, his gaze solely on you as he goes lower and lower until he reaches where he needs the most — where you need him the most.
He covers the skin of your thighs with bites as he inches closer to your core, his fingers threaded with you and he finally gives your throbbing clit a kiss. 
“Mm, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers, lips wrapping around the bundle of nerves as he dives inside your heat, groaning while he tastes you.
“Fuck, you better…” you manage to rush the words out of your mouth as he works wonders between your legs.
His pace is slow, but he knows what he’s doing, bringing you closer to the edge with every flicker of his tongue over your clit while one of his fingers circles your wet entrance. He hums as he pushes a finger inside you, almost going wild as he hears your encouraging moans. 
The lewd sound of him slurping and enjoying giving you pleasure is too much for you, and when he adds a second finger, you lose yourself in him, gasping and shaking as you squeeze his free hand, hips pushing against his face while he curves his fingers inside you.
“Give it to me, beautiful, let go f’me,” 
He knows what he is doing to you when he latches his lips to your clit, sucking and licking the nerves like a starved man while his fingers massage that sweet spot inside you. Your legs shake around his head as you come, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He drinks you up gladly, pressing his nose more into your cunt to give you his best.
“Aem, s-stop, it’s too much,” you pull him up by the wet messy bun he has, detaching him from you so you can have a rest.
“You taste fucking sweet,” he whispers against your lips, bending down to let you taste yourself on him. He holds himself up by his elbow, and the other one holds the fat of your hips in a tight grip, digging his nails into the flesh — you can see how his patience is running thin.
“Aem,” you pull back a bit, cupping his face into your trembling hands, “love me, please, make me forget that I almost lost you.”
“Anything that my girl wants, anything for you,” he murmurs, hissing out your name when you reach between your bodies to stroke his hard cock, “I’m going make you forget, Sugar, I will conquer the world and bend it to your will.”
“I don’t need the world when I already have everything I ever wanted with you,” you reply, lining him up with your entrance, both of you moaning in union when he slowly pushes himself in.
“Fuck, Sugar—“ he groans as he pulls his hips back a little, thrusting back into you. He allows you to get adjusted to his size, caging your body under him as he gazes down at you, taking in your blissed-out expression.
“Please, Aem, please move…” you moan out, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as he starts to thrust himself in you lazily. But when you look so gorgeous with your lips parted and pupils dilated… how can he not fuck you right there?
He speeds up, his balls slapping against the fat of your ass as he hammers himself inside you at a fast pace, drawing moan after moan from your gorgeous mouth.
He curses at the wonderful feeling of being enveloped by you, almost growling when you scratch his back when he reaches deep inside you.
Aemond looks at you, memorizing the shade of your lips, the number of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, even how your teeth sink into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip — he doesn’t think he has ever felt this urge to protect and love someone more than he does now.
You tighten your legs around him, throwing your head back when his thumb reaches down to rub the hood of your clit, his cock throbbing inside of you with a deep desire to fill you.
“Sugar, if you don’t stop—“
“Please, come with me. Aem, need you so bad,” you cry out as the white-hot pleasure rushes through your body. Your walls clamp around his girth tightly, keeping him inside you snuggly as his thrusts become sloppier than before.
“Give it to me,” you whisper, nibbling on his jaw before he buries his face into your neck, pushing himself as deep as he can go in you.
“I’m gonna come in you, Sugar. ‘M gonna claim what has always been mine,” he says in your ear, groaning your name as he shoots his cum, coating your walls in his hot white release.
“Fuck, I love you, I love you, I fucking love you—“
You hold him close when he shudders, prepping his face with kisses and praising him for how good he is to you, and how handsome and lovely he is.
“Thank you,” he says, pulling you in for a deep kiss.
“For what, Aem?”
“For putting me out of my misery,”
 The sunlight is shining on your face through the curtains, waking you up slowly. You reach for him, trying to cuddle him back to sleep, but you are met with an empty bed. Dread fills your guts as you push the covers off of your naked body, reaching out to put on some clothes before you run down and search for him.
As soon as you walk down the stairs with the clothes he gave you last night, you see him hunching over the countertop, talking to his mother.
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He is wearing his riding clothes; a leather jacket and black jeans with his hair in a low ponytail. You spot the grocery bags next to the fridge, grinning to yourself when you realize he went shopping for you.
He turns around instantly when he hears your low padding approaching him, pulling you in his arms when you reach him.
“Good morning, love,”
You beam at him, hugging him back tightly, never wanting to let him go.
“Oh, is Sugar there?” Alicent asks over the phone, surprised and silently cheering with Aegon and Heleana as they all listen to the two of you talk.
“Yes, do you want to talk to her, Mother?”
“No, let the poor girl have some privacy. Have you talked to my father yet?”
“I do not want to talk about grandsire right now, Mother. All I need is a peaceful breakfast with my girlfriend. And tell Aegon thank you, Sunfyre is alive and breathing.” Aemond says, kissing the crown of your head as you look at him in shock.
Girlfriend, you thought, and at last, he is mine.
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slytherinslut0 · 2 days
Text
theodore nott • may i have this dance?
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info: smallish blurb for @thatdammchickennugget’s hogmarch challenge. prompt four. (i know im a day late lol sorry mari ily)
summary: theodore told everyone that dances weren’t his thing and decided he wasn’t going to attend the yule ball. when you agreed to go with cormac, he realized that he’d made a big mistake, and was there for you when you needed him most.
tags: soft and fluffy. shitty cormac per usual.
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You should have seen it coming.
You should have damn well known that accepting Cormac's half-assed invitation to the Yule Ball was practically signing up for one thing and one thing only:
a one-way ticket to misery.
The sting of his abandonment wasn’t even the worst of it--though it did occur almost immediately, sneaky bloke somehow managing to slither off before Dumbledore even had the chance to make it to the podium to give the opening fucking speech.
Truthfully, you probably could have gotten over that. With enough drinks, that is.
The real kicker came after the bewildering manner in which he vanished into the ether. The moment he reappeared all the same, as if nothing had even happened, accompanied now by your ex-best friend, clinging to his arm like a fucking lifeline.
His smirk, so brazenly triumphant, seemed to stretch wider than the chasm between you, swallowing up his entire face in a painfully irritating display of mockery and betrayal as he shot you an infuriating wink from across the room, leading your friend through the crowd and into position for the first slow dance.
That was it. There was no goddamn way you were staying in that cursed room for even a millisecond longer.
If not for your ironclad resolve, you were fully convinced you would have set the entire room ablaze in a whirlwind of rage as you stormed out.
Yet, as you downed nearly half the flask of firewhiskey you had concealed beneath your flowing emerald green gown, a profound epiphany struck you: that wretched excuse for a human being didn't merit even a fraction of your emotional investment.
What he truly warranted, from the depths of your seething soul, was a resounding void of utter insignificance.
And with that realization burning in your chest, you pivoted on your heels and pushed your way through the throng, feigning ignorance to Pansy's concerned calls and Mattheo's mocking gaze as he reached out to grasp your arm, undoubtedly ready to ridicule you for being left high and dry before the first damn dance.
Your friends had warned you of this inevitable outcome, but your stubbornness had clouded your ears to their warnings.
You live and you learn, right?
"Wrong," Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Blaise, and Draco would have most definitely retorted in unison.
You could practically hear it in the recesses of your mind as you pushed through the large double doors and out into the warm spring breeze flowing through the corridor. They would have reminded you that sometimes it pays to heed the advice of someone who's walked the same path, that perhaps they were genuinely trying to watch out for you for once.
Of course, you would have simply scowled and rolled your eyes in response. You didn't need advice from anyone, definitely not them. Although…it certainly would have paid off to listen just this once…
Just then, in that fleeting moment of mental pondering, an intriguing thought popped into your mind;
Perhaps, just perhaps; you were the problem here.
…..No. Nope. Not even close.
You forcefully dismissed that nagging notion the very second it dared to intrude. No, you couldn’t, and simply wouldn’t entertain the idea that you were at fault here.
The reason you were making a hasty exit from the Yule Ball before the first dance had even commenced, the reason the echo of your black heels striking the cobblestones beneath them reverberated throughout the damp and desolate corridor, was solely because of Cormac.
If you were the problem, you’d be the one in there dancing with whomever you pleased, paying no mind to the feelings of others. Your Yule Ball evening was over. And not even the combined efforts of Godric Gryffindor, Professor Snape, Salazar Slytherin and Filch's bloody cat could have kept you from fleeing.
But in truth, if you were being completely real with yourself, you weren’t even all that bummed. A very large part of you didn’t even want to partake tonight.
Perhaps that was due to the fact that the man you longed to accompany the dance with had adamantly declared his aversion to such festivities, and simply decided not to attend.
But that’s neither here nor there at this point.
As you reached the threshold of the courtyard, your gaze fell upon the breathtaking scene unfolding before you: a moonlit evening enveloped in a torrential downpour, each raindrop hammering against the emerald expanse of grass with relentless force.
It was as tragically beautiful as it was suiting.
And as you were lost in the beauty of nature's fury, you were startled by a husky voice slicing through the stillness, calling out your name from down the hall. Nearly leaping out of your own damn skin, your head snapped to the side, your eyes meeting those of a tall, strikingly handsome Italian man striding purposefully towards you.
"Hey," Theodore called out, his voice gentle yet determined, "Wait up."
You rolled your eyes before you could even stop yourself. Force of habit.
“I saw you leaving,” he continued, his steps quickening as he closed the distance between you. “Are you okay?”
You met his concerned gaze with a raised eyebrow, a hint of sass colouring your reply, "don’t I look okay to you?"
Theodore's gaze caressed you, hunger evident in his half-lidded eyes as they roamed over your form with a blend of admiration and concern. Barely audible, a curse slipped from his lips in Italian before he locked eyes with you once more, a palpable shift in the intensity of his gaze.
"You look more than okay, Bella," he murmured, taking a single step closer. “Doesn’t mean you feel it.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart quickening its pace in response to his proximity. As Theodore’s words washed over you, a shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with the heat of his gaze.
This was the man you’d longed to attend the dance with tonight. The one who swore he’d never take part in such idiocy. Standing before you, clad in an all black suit.
You didn’t even have a thought to question it—to question him—on what the hell he was doing here, dressed like that—because as you stood there, your temperature rising, you met his eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and longing swirling within your own.
“Maybe not,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, “but somehow…you make it hard to feel anything else.”
Theodore's lips curved into a knowing smile, and his tongue darted out to wet them, his eyes locking with yours in silent understanding.
"Then maybe," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "we should find a way to make you feel everything."
Your entire body froze in place as Theodore slowly extended his hand towards you, the world around you fading into insignificance as if time itself had paused, as if someone had cast a spell on the clock. Almost entirely speechless, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his, the anticipation thick in the air as the distant strains of a slow dance song filtered through the corridor, emanating from the Yule Ball.
With a gentle smile, Theodore broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, "may I have this dance?"
As your lips parted to respond, a whirlwind of emotions danced across your face, your eyes flickering between his outstretched hand and the captivating depths of his gaze. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your mouth, your usually sassy self left utterly speechless, and with deliberate slowness, you surrendered your hand to his, relishing in the warmth that flooded your senses as he drawed you closer and into his embrace.
Theodore’s hands found their place on your waist with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer to him as if to reassure you of his presence. You reciprocated by resting your palms on his shoulders, feeling the heat emanating from his body, its intensity seeping through the fabric of his suit jacket, igniting a tingling sensation in your fingertips.
You let your eyes trace a path up his strong chest, taking in the subtle rise and fall of his breath beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was then that you noticed the emerald silk tie adorning his neck, its colour mirroring the rich hue of your dress almost perfectly.
Utterly mesmerized, you couldn’t comprehend the way this man had rendered you so bloody speechless. You’d never have expected any of this in a million years.
Finally, you managed to exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, “you…you matched my dress…”
Theodore’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a tender smile playing on his lips.
“Only because I knew you’d be wearing it,” he replied, his voice warm, a soft caress against your skin. “Cormac is a fucking idiot.”
A breathy laugh escaped your lips, mingling with the soothing melody of the rain and the gentle hum of the slow dance tune. You blinked, looking up at him through your lashes, finding yourself lost in the depth within the ocean of his eyes.
“You knew he’d ditch me,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the soft cadence of the music. As you watched Theodore’s eyes trace the curve of your lips, a flicker of realization dawned upon you. “You were betting on it.”
“I knew you deserved better,” he murmured, a soft swallow rippling through his throat as he spoke, his eyes shimmering beneath the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the rain-soaked courtyard. “And I was hoping you’d see it too.”
“Why didn’t you try to stop me?” you whispered, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
You thought back on the advice from the others. All those times Theo was quiet, just watching. Listening.
Theodore’s expression softened, a rueful smile gracing his lips as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Would you have listened, Bella?”
You could feel the subtle tension dissipate as Theodore's touch lingered on your cheek, and with a gentle swallow, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you considered his question.
"Perhaps not," you replied, your voice as teasing as the grin gracing your lips. “I am quite stubborn, aren’t I?”
Theo chuckled, and you were going to leave it at that, remain silent and enjoy the moment for what it was, but as your eyes found his once more, a surge of honesty flooded your senses, rendering you momentarily breathless. The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips curved up while donning that devilish smirk of his, the sensation of his thumb brushing against your cheek—it was simply all too much to ignore.
"But, you should know,” you confessed softly, "I truly only wanted to go with you."
Theodore blinked, his gaze flickering with surprise at your admission, as if he hadn't expected you to voice your feelings so openly. But there was no denying the electricity crackling in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that had lingered beneath the surface for far too long. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, coaxing your face closer to his, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin.
"Dances have never really been my thing, Bella..." his voice, a mere whisper, sent your limbs shuddering with nerves. Your fingers trembled slightly against his shoulders, the only anchor keeping you grounded in the intensity of the moment. "But I'd slow dance across the entire castle with you if you asked..."
Leaning closer, Theodore's breath mingled with yours, the warmth of his words sending a shiver down your spine. As he leaned closer, you could hear the subtle hitch in his breath, the tremor in his exhale.
"I was a fool...” as he hovered inches from your lips, you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the tension between you reaching its breaking point. “…for not mustering the courage to ask you myself.”
You wet your lips, your eyes bouncing all over his face, your entire body trembling with urgency, with need, with hunger. You’d hardly even heard his words at this point.
“Tell me, Bella…." he breathed, the words longing for an absolution only you could grant him. “Will you ever manage to forgive me?”
With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned as close as you could possibly get, your lips just barely grazing against his, savouring the moment for every bloody second it had.
"Kiss me," you murmured through a grin, your voice barely above a whisper, "and perhaps…just perhaps, I'll find it in my heart to forgive you."
With that, he dipped low, two strong hands finding your face, capturing your lips with his, and you sighed, lids closing, reaching to forage into his hair. A soft exhale escaped him, the kiss deepening, and he cradled your head, holding you closer, his other hand falling to support your neck, thumb skimming your jaw.
You whined, joy glowing in your chest, and you eased against his body, the both of you melting into each other, melting into the moment, the sound of the rain and the rhythmic tune of the slowdance fading away in the foreground.
And as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, Theodore's eyes met yours again, blue orbs shimmering brighter than the moon.
"I’d spend a lifetime making it up to you," he vowed softly, urging your head to rest gently against his chest. "Starting with this dance."
444 notes · View notes
imagineaworld · 2 days
Text
stray shadow 🗡️ azriel
summary: azriel loses a shadow, only for it to lead him straight to you
warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public place (kinda), dirty talk, swearing, mentions of alcohol
word count: 1.5k
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Azriel seemed to have lost one of his shadows.
He had been too busy observing the crowd for potential threats to notice the shadow sneak off somewhere. After deciding there were no current threats amongst the crowd gathered in the Court of Nightmares, he slipped off in search of the stray.
Following the gentle tug that was beckoning him to the other side of the cavernous hall, he kept to the outskirts to avoid the mass of bodies talking, dancing and drinking.
As the tug grew stronger, he wondered curiously where his shadow was leading him. Had it sensed a threat that even he hadn't spotted? It seemed unlikely, but not impossible.
Eventually, he approached a small crowd loitering by the table littered with glasses and flutes of wine and champagne. His shadow was close, he could sense it. He scanned the small group, seeking the familiar darkness of his shadows.
There. He spotted it; slinked around a high-heeled ankle. His eyes trailed upwards, following the exposed bare leg, continuing up a gossamer-clad torso, a plunging neckline, a long slender neck, before settling on the face of the most beautiful female he had ever seen.
-
You hadn't noticed it at first. The soft brush had just felt like the fabric of your dress sweeping against your ankle. But when you looked down, you noticed a black shadow slowly wrapping itself around your ankle. It tickled, pulling a smile from you as you watched it wend its way up your leg, exposed through the slit in your dress.
Curiously, you reached down to touch it as it skated your thigh. In answer, it wrapped itself around your fingers. Bringing your hand closer to your face, you watched in wonder as it danced in between your fingers.
You were so distracted by the shadow that you didn't notice the owner of the shadow approach until he spoke.
-
"They seem to like you."
It was the only thing Azriel could think to say as he watched you smile at the shadow flitting around in your hand. All thoughts had left his mind, the sight rendering him speechless for a few seconds.
At the sound of his voice, you looked up. Your eyes locked onto his, amusement dancing in them. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him.
"Lose something?" You spoke, your voice like caramel.
Struck dumb, Azriel could only watch as you gently flicked his shadow in his direction, returning it to him. Reluctantly, the shadow rejoined the mass swirling around his feet. Az realised he should say something.
"I apologise for disturbing you," he managed. "I usually have them under control, but they're feeling rebellious today."
You laughed, and it was the single greatest sound he has ever heard. Azriel couldn't contain his own smile, self-consciously rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
"Should I be concerned about drawing their attention?" You inquired playfully.
Az chuckled. "No, not unless you plan on causing trouble."
Something like mischief sparked in your eyes. "Oh, I always plan on causing trouble."
Gods, save him.
You extended a hand and introduced yourself.
"Azriel." He said, his scarred hand clasping yours as he suppressed his disgust at marring you with his touch.
You repeated his name, just a murmur, but loud enough for him to hear. Perhaps he had been wrong, it was not your laugh that was the greatest sound he had ever heard, but the sound of his name of your lips.
-
You weren't quite sure how you were playing it so cool. The male standing before you was quite simply the most handsome male you had ever seen. Talking to males never normally intimidated you, but you felt the need to leave a lasting impression on this one.
Just the touch of his hand on yours had sent tingles down your spine. The feeling was unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome. It was safe to say, for the first time in your life, you were out of your depth.
The musicians began playing a tune that had hoards of people flocking to the dance floor.
"Well, Azriel," you began, holding out your hand. "Do you or your shadows dance?"
Wordlessly, with a glint in his eyes, Azriel took your hand and led you out into the crowd of couples on the dance floor.
Az took the lead in the dance with a newfound confidence. You placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the hard muscles beneath his jacket. His large hand on your waist felt equally as strong, but he held you at a respectable distance.
As if unhappy with the distance between you, his shadows reached for you. They pulled you in closer, wrapping round the two of you as you moved gracefully on the dance floor.
You huffed a laugh, your breasts now flush against Azriel's broad chest. "They're definitely rebellious."
Az only grunted in response, as though words were beyond him.
Looking up at him as he towered over you, you bit your lip, anxious that your closeness had made him uncomfortable.
He was already looking down at you when your eyes met his, dark with lust. "Don't look at me like that." He ground out.
"Why not?" You challenged, your own newfound confidence coming through at the realisation he was growing hard beneath you as your bodies pressed together.
He growled lowly. "Drives me crazy."
His gravelly voice went straight to your core, and as his eyes darkened further, you knew he could scent your arousal. Refusing to blush, you held his gaze and he inhaled, a restrained groan building in his throat.
"You smell divine."
You bit your lip again. "Why don't you find out how I taste?"
You refused to break Azriel's gaze, which had turned feral at your words. In that gaze, you could see an internal battle between desire and logic. 
"Offer's on the table," you told him. "No strings."
Azriel whirled around, leading you by your joint hands to the nearest exit. Once outside the hall, your heels clicked on the stone as he led you down a handful of dim corridors. He stopped beside an alcove, pushing you in with his body. The alcove was just big enough for the two of you, his shadows blocking you from sight of any stray passers-by.  
Not wasting any time, Az connected his mouth to yours in the most sensous kiss you had ever experienced. You leaned into the kiss and tangled your fingers into Azriel's hair, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat.
He trailed kisses from your mouth down your neck, sucking and nipping with his teeth. You let out a breathy moan as his teeth grazed over your nipple, the fabric of your dress pushed aside.
Through the slit in your dress, Azriel stroked your thigh, higher and higher until he reached where your underwear should have been.
"No panties?" He growled. "You really are looking for trouble."
His fingers toyed with your pussy, gathering up the slick before sliding one finger inside.
"Azriel." You breathed, the sensation overwhelming you.
He moved his finger in and out of you, curling it just right as he added another. 
"Feel so good round my fingers, baby," he praised, watching as you started to unravel. "Let's find out how you taste."
He dropped to his knees before you, gathering the fabric of your dress and bunching it round your hips. The scent of your arousal and the feeling of your slick had hardened his cock beneath his trousers. He licked a long, slow line along your pussy, teasing you.
"Please," you begged.
"So needy," he taunted. You could hear the smugness in his voice. Putting you out of your misery, he pressed his mouth to your pussy. Like a man starved, he licked, sucked, nipped at you, all the while sliding his fingers in and out.
You moaned his name, fingers tugging at strands of his hair. He growled at the sensation, which reverberated against your clit. You felt your release building.
"Fuck, you taste so good," his voice full of lust. "You gonna cum for me, baby?"
"Yes," you breathed. "Fuck, don't stop."
Obliging, he picked up the pace of his fingers, and focused his mouth on your clit. Your moans were obcene as you came, his name spilling out of you for all to hear. Azriel only slowed his pace once your pussy had stopped clenching round his fingers.
He looked up at you with a devilish grin, lips wet with your slick. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of you, raising them to his lips taste you again. 
He raised up to his full height, towering over you. His hair a tussled mess, his eyes still dark with lust. "Until next time," he said, and vanished off, taking his shadows with him.
The sound of you moaning his name, the taste of you on his tongue, they lingered for hours. He thought about it - about you for the rest of the evening. Later that night, he fucked his fist and came at the thought of you.
576 notes · View notes
sinsirellaxx · 2 days
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Toxic!Slytherin boys and them actually falling in love with the reader? Like the Slytherin boys don’t just want to have control over the reader, they want to have a future together after they realize their true yet toxic love for the reader.
I just love the idea of these hurt toxic boys tryna be better.
Toxic Slytherin boys – When they actually fall in love with you
Warning: Kinda toxic yet not so toxic boys
Mattheo …
… chokes on his saliva when he realizes. He’d been having weird dreams – more like nightmares – of losing you and the relief that washes over him whenever he finally manages to wake up makes his heart skip a beat.
… would try to shrug it off and push it to the back of his mind until he couldn’t anymore. You growing more confident and making new friends felt like a bucket of ice cold water emptied on his head: he loved you and he couldn’t risk losing you.
… had to take a different approach with you, because with time you noticed the very subtle changes in him and started resisting his controlling nature.
… for the first time ever, grew insecure in your relationship: The more he fell in love with you, the brighter you shone.
… would be clingy – but not in the “You can’t go out wearing that skirt” kind of clingy, but the “let’s cuddle in bed all night, love.” Kind of clingy.
… found himself dreaming of your future life together – he suddenly wanted to have kids. But only with you.
… would put in so much effort: He’d take you out on romantic dates, buy you things that he thinks you might like, hold hands with you all the time and press the back of your hand to his lips before letting go of you, whenever you had to part ways.
… can’t go a day without hearing your voice.
… would even stop skipping classes and stop drinking if that ever bothered you.
… is afraid that you might get involved in his Death Eater business and will do anything to protect you from it – even if it meant locking you up some place far away.
“I just can’t imagine a day without you by my side.”
Theodore …
… is shocked. Flabbergasted. Stunned. At a loss for words.
… had thought he wouldn’t be able to love another woman after losing his mother. He didn’t expect he’d ever be ready to be vulnerable again. But there you stood, with that beautiful smile and those bright eyes.
… doesn’t know when it happened – it was probably, when you made pistachio cannoli in the school kitchens and presented them to him proudly. He had returned your sheepish smile with his eyes blinking dumbly at you as he tried to understand the situation. “You made them for me?”
… was head over heels for you after that day. You’d have him wrapped around your pinky – whatever you want, you’ll get.
… would be even more protective of you and glare at everyone talking to you – even his own friends weren’t spared.
… asks you to cook with him – to cook and bake for him. He’d watch you in the kitchen with heart-eyes – his mind wandering off to places.
… would plan to propose to you as fast as possible. There is no way he’d lose you.
“Amore, I know we are young. But I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Lorenzo …
… notices the little changes in his own behavior: he hugs you a little longer and a little tighter whenever you embrace him. He’ll squeeze your hand tight, whenever you’re holding hands. He’ll always wrap his arms around you protectively, whenever you are close enough.
… is scared at first – which resorts to him being even more controlling and overbearing. He’ll even consider a Blood Oath or the Unbreakable Vow to bind you to him for eternity – but when he watches you sleep on his chest at night, with a peaceful look on your face, he inwardly kicks himself for his stupidity.
… will be more patient – more respectful with you. He constantly has to remind himself that love is not about control and owning but about trust and respect.
… struggles at first. But when you take notice of the effort he puts into your relationship – into loving you – you let your guards down completely. You truly feel comfortable around him.
“I’d do anything for you, princess.”
Draco …
… struggles with the onslaught of emotions and distances himself from you.
… would be scared to show you his true feelings – but he’s also scared of pushing you away with his past behavior.
… would grow quiet and carefully think about what to do next – about how to approach you. He’d stop playing around with you.
… gives me the vibes that he’d immediately start planning your future in secret – if he is really sure about you, he’d probably confide in his mother.
… would be a complete gentleman: would buy you flowers, write you letters, spend quality time with you and really listen to what you have to say.
… he’d be much more selfless with you – what you want is more important to him than his own selfish needs.
“What have you done to me, princess?”
Blaise …
… pulls you into a soft kiss the moment he realizes. He’ll wrap his arms around you and hug you to his chest. He needed to feel you close – to know you’re there and not just a dream. Because this boy is scared you’ll disappear into thin air.
… wants nothing more than spend time with you. He’ll almost always text you first. Will initiate soft touches and innocent kisses.
… will be so soft for you.
… would claim he couldn’t sleep without you, just to watch you fall asleep in his arms. Knowing that you’ll be there in the morning when he wakes up – safe and sound.
… is still overly controlling – but just because he is afraid to lose you.
… won’t have any problems with showing his vulnerability.
“I’m scared of losing you, love. Please stay the night.”
Tom …
… is angry. Angry with you. Angry with himself. Angry with his stupid heart.
… would feel guilt settle deep in his stomach whenever he was mean to you, which bothered him because now he had to think twice about it before saying anything.
… can’t stand the thought of you spending time with other people.
… is even more jealous and protective than before – because now he actually cares.
… thinks of the Unbreakable vow as well but will actually pull through and manage to make you consent to it. He couldn’t risk losing you.
“I’ll always protect you. You are mine forever.”
447 notes · View notes
controld3vil · 2 days
Text
sand walking?
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pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)
synopsis: requested by this ask!
⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.
notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo
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“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.
The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.
Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.
“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”
“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”
“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”
Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.
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Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.
Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.
This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.
The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"
"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.
"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"
Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"
"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.
Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.
"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.
"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.
"I had to!"
"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.
"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.
Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."
"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.
"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.
The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."
"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.
"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.
Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.
Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.
Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.
Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"
You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.
"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.
Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"
"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.
Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"
"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.
"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.
"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.
"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.
And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"
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There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.
The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"
It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"
"I'm doing good!"
"Going great!"
The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.
Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.
"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.
"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.
The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"
"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.
"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.
Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."
As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.
"I am pretty good at flirting,"
"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.
"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.
"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"
It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.
"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.
"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"
"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"
"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.
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Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.
Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.
Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.
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disneyprincemuke · 1 day
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you can't spell lonesome without me * fem!driver
everyone and everything she's ever loved seems to be slipping away from her grasp and she doesn't know how to stop it
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: hi! matt and rocky angst comes after this so hehe gl with this guyz hope u enjoy it because it actually took 20 years of my life tryna write this LOL
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
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sebastian keeps telling her that it’s not her fault; to look at the bigger picture to get some perspective. but she doesn’t quite understand why the bigger picture has to have liam in it — frankly, who cares if liam’s qualified 15th and she ended up behind him? that’s not the point.
the point is she finds herself at another weekend where she couldn’t deliver results.
she hasn’t spoken much since she crawled out of her car after getting knocked out in the first round of qualifying. and she appreciates that matt hasn’t forced anything out of her just yet.
she’d stormed out of her garage and tried to get through all her interviews as gracefully as she could. but how could she ignore her results when, week after week, the questions and criticisms are the same?
it’s slowly getting harder and harder to keep her feet on the ground when things are slowly coming undone around her.
and she can’t thank matt enough for letting her cancel their plans without another word. she’d simply uttered that she just wanted to be locked away in their hotel room and he agreed without prodding too much.
she steps out of her racing home, taken aback by the 4 other bodies of her friends that are riddled by the porch, all on their phones. she tilts her head as she holds the door in her hands. “what are you guys doing here?”
logan is the first to look up, furrowed eyebrows and lips pursed in what she can only assume to be out of annoyance. “what do you mean? we’re heading out for ice cream tonight.”
she glances at matt next to her, who’s already looking at her as he awaits her response. she sighs as she looks back at her friends. “i’m sorry, mate,” she apologises, shaking her head. she weaves herself out of matt’s grasp and takes a step forward. “i’m not feeling great tonight.”
“what?” oscar whines, lifting his head from his phone with a slight frown. “is it a fever? are you alright?”
“i’m alright.” she smiles very slightly, picking on her arm as she forces another lie to her lips. “we can go tomorrow after the race, but just not tonight, i think. i’m sorry.”
liam furrows his eyebrows with a loud sigh. “is it because of qualifying?” he grins when she looks over at him. “if it’s any consolation, i’m not happy about it either, mate.”
she laughs softly. “yeah, it sucks.”
“i can’t do tomorrow. my flight’s right after the race,” mick frowns with a sigh. “i’m meeting laila for a bit before the next race weekend.”
“oh,” logan hums, turning away from mick to look at her. “we can go just us, right?”
“i can’t either,” oscar hisses, his frown growing. “i’m flying back home for an event that lily has. she needs me there.”
“ah,” she grins with a nod. she looks at logan. “we don’t have to get ice cream this weekend. it’s okay.”
logan raises an eyebrow. “you’re sure?”
she nods. “i’m sure.”
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“it feels like it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of you lately. have you gotten too famous for me?”
she turns around with her head tilted, lips puckered as she takes a sip out of the pepsi can in her arms. “oh, hi max!”
“hi!” max perks up at her smile. “i’ve barely spoken to you since the second race. how are you?”
she sucks in a deep breath as she looks around the busy paddocks, people turning their heads at her and max, and some cowering away immediately when she catches their eye. she looks back at max with a frank smile. “good.”
he lifts an eyebrow. “really?”
she knows that talking to someone would probably ease her mind with all her thoughts. it might even calm her down to a certain degree.
and she almost does.
but she doesn’t. instead, she says, “of course. i feel great, even.”
“well,” max puts a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to snap her head up to look at him, “take my advice, mate. don’t be too hard on yourself.”
but the question still begs: how exactly does she not do that?
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there’s a slight scowl on her face as she looks up at the podium. her arms are folded over her chest as the australian national anthem blasts from the speakers.
her best friends have made it on the podium this season — without her. while it’s not totally unheard of that she misses out on the share of glory, it’s never usually her on the receiving end of this torment.
at least not as of late.
to oscar’s left is logan clad in blue, and to his right is mick in the mercedes suit. it’s almost annoying.
there’s an itch in her brain and a smidge of resentment starting to grow in her chest. it’s wrong to feel this way — she knows it is — because these are her friends achieving big things in their sport. but is it so wrong that she’s starting to feel a little jealous?
just a little bit. just a little. just a touch.
maybe if she sleeps this off and wakes up tomorrow, all remnants of resentment would somehow no longer exist.
she shouldn’t feel this way, no. it’s not right. she forces a smile to her face, waving halfheartedly at oscar when he catches her eye. he pumps his fist into the air and waves his trophy in the air.
next to her is lily with her phone up, pictures and videos taken. and of course, ylona’s next to her, waving excitedly at logan as she points at her phone to get him to pose for a picture.
she presses her lips together, annoyance growing in her gut as her airways start to close in on itself. it’s just so hard to breathe especially with everyone pressed up against her. she’s still sweaty from the race, her hair is sticking against her forehead and her race suit starts to feel just slightly restricting.
she huffs softly, hooking a finger into the neckline of her fireproofs.
but everything feels like it’s burning.
“excuse me,” she mutters, dropping her head low as she pushes herself through the crowd. she ignores the way lily and ylona call after her in confusion.
she heaves when she manages to rid herself of the crowd, hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. she catches max’s eye right by parc ferme, engaged in a conversation with charles.
she sees the way he perks up in concern at her but chooses to ignore it. she just picks herself up and heads to the media pen to do her interviews.
the feeling will eventually leave.
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she looks around the ice cream parlour, slouched slightly with her hands pressed between the cushion of the seat and her thighs. in retrospect, it felt like coming out after media day would have been the ideal time to come out and indulge in ice cream.
but now that she’s sat here, stuck between liam and mick in a booth, it seems that she has made a mistake.
“what are you having, rocky?” logan asks, tapping the table in front of her to catch her attention. “rocky road with extra marshmallows still? or do you feel like vanilla ice cream today?”
with the way her stomach has been churning recently, any form of chocolate makes her feel sick. she shakes her head. “maybe just a lemon sorbet if they have that available.”
an audible gasp comes from either side of her. she throws her head back and looks between them. liam has the back of his hand pressed up against her forehead, mick’s tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows and logan’s staring down at her with parted lips.
“what are you guys doing?” she asks mellowly, swatting their hands away from her. “don’t touch me.”
“sorbet?” liam scowls, pointing a finger at her. “is everything okay? you’re like sorbets’ number one hater.”
she raises her eyebrows and chews on the inside of her cheeks. “am i?”
“yes,” logan emphasises. “you literally told me off one time for having sorbet during our ice cream dates. you and oscar wouldn’t let me live it down for weeks!”
she blinks at him. “you got a raspberry sorbet, so you had that coming.”
“no!” logan shrieks. “sorbet? really? what’s wrong with you? is everything okay? you always say sorbets are inferior to ice cream.”
she nods hesitantly. she vaguely remembers the one time that she’d gone on a drunk tangent about sorbet not being ice cream. to which she can say that she understands logan’s argument. “well, i’m not really feeling ice cream today.”
mick hums, making her turn her head to look at him. “if it’s just this one time, i guess we can excuse the behaviour.”
she hears logan humming, eyes still narrowed down into a glare. “just this one time, rocky. i’ll give you a chance.”
“great, thanks. i was worried you’d bully me into having ice cream tonight.”
“keep up the sarcasm and i’ll actually force you.”
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she flinches when she opens the door to her driver’s room, only to find it occupied. she blinks. “seriously, you’ve got to stop taking advantage of seb.”
“we missed you,” oscar grins, comfortably lying in her bean bag, tapping away on his phone. “and you weren’t answering our texts in the group chat.”
she looks over at matt and points at her friends. “really? you let them in?”
the green-eyed boy shrugs, lips pressed together. “4 versus 1 argument — remember that.”
there’s nothing that she wanted all day but to come back to a peaceful and silent driver’s room. she’d wanted to simply sit with matt in silence before she had to get up and drag her feet to a conference room and come up with diplomatic answers on the spot.
she just needed a couple of hours to herself to think and recuperate. to get herself in a better headspace after these past couple of races.
“where are we heading for ice cream tonight?” logan raises an eyebrow, not sparing her a look as he continues to tap away on his phone.
“ice cream,” she mutters, trailing off as she blinks. “oh, my god.”
she shakes her head, her palm pressed against her forehead. amidst everything that’s been in her head, she’d completely forgotten to research an ice cream parlour for them to visit tonight.
oscar chuckles. “you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
“yes,” she answers, somewhat apologetically. “i’m so sorry. and i’m busy today, i don’t have the time. can either of you find a place?”
but there’s a different answer that she hopes they would choose instead of the standard answer that they’d give her.
she finds them wanting to say nevermind; that they’ll just not grab ice cream together.
to her dismay, that’s not what mick says. “oo, can i choose?”
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“give it a while, kid.”
“i don’t have a while!” she shrieks, looking around at her mobile car, cars passing her from the track. she can practically hear the comments and see the headlines once she steps out of the car when the race finishes. “tell them to fucking get it together! what the fuck is going on?”
she’s looking around wide-eyed, desperate to meet anyone’s eye for an explanation. the longer she stays parked in the pit, for what was supposed to be a pit stop, the less threshold she has to stay in the race.
“this is absolutely insane, seb. i was in p5 before this shit show.”
“rocky,” he hears her sigh into her ears, “just be patient.”
she dug her foot into the acceleration when the sign flipped to the bright green colour. adrenaline pumps through her veins as she convinces herself that her car will be good enough to put her back into a good spot.
that she’s good enough to put herself in a position where she’s no longer on the receiving end of harsh words this weekend.
above all else, she needs to prove to herself that she hasn’t lost her touch as a driver.
“you’re currently in p9.”
“what the hell happened during that pit?” she complains, the urge to roll her eyes growing stronger. “that was so fucked up, seb! you know what– it isn’t. it’s absolutely fucking unacceptable.”
“i know, rocky,” seb answers calmly, clearing his intonation to ensure that the young girl hears him. and actually listens because it doesn’t seem like she’s absorbing much of what he says. “we’ll debrief later after the race, okay? just focus on making the most out of the weekend.”
she grunts. “fine, whatever.”
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“ice cream tonight?” logan pops up next to her, grinning when she lifts her head from her intense gaze on her shoe. “found a spot?”
she sighs, blinking. “no. i forgot.”
logan takes a spot next to her on the couch, furrowing his eyebrows. “you forgot again?”
“yeah,” she huffs as she looks away to avoid his gaze. “sorry.”
truth is that she didn’t look for one on purpose. she just simply doesn’t feel like heading out with them tonight.
she just waits for the time that oscar and logan will let her be. perhaps the stupid ice cream tradition needed to be abolished altogether. just seems like a waste of time.
“no worries,” logan grins, patting her head gently. “you’ve had a long couple of race weekends past you. i’ll look for one, okay?”
she breathes out shakily, smiling halfheartedly. “okay, thank you.”
she finds herself dreading the ice cream date with her friends. she trails behind the group with small steps, watching her feet with every step as she formulates a way to escape her obligations.
she clears her throat and lifts her head. “um.”
“she’s spoken,” oscar jokes, grabbing logan’s arms — previously hitting him — and turns back to grin at her. “the curse must have been broken.”
“someone found the unmute button on the remote!” logan giggles, scrunching his nose. “what’s up, rocky?”
liam hums with a smile. “your girlfriend remembered she has friends!” he looks over at matt and nods. “good for her.”
“i’m like,” she trails off, biting down on her lip as she forces another lie out, “totally not feeling great. i’m on my period and i’m kind of lightheaded. is it alright if i sit this one out?”
“aw, bub,” matt coos, shoving liam off of him, arms extended as he approaches her. he tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “you’re on your period?”
she looks up at matt, wide-eyed as she slowly nods. “just got it before we left my room.”
which is a lie.
“aw, does that mean matt’s not coming with us?” mick frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. “i haven’t spent time with him forever, that’s so unfair.”
she shakes her head, flashing mick a small grin. “no, it totally doesn’t mean that. he can go with you guys — i just wanna head back to the hotel and take a nap, really. i’ll be okay on my own.”
matt hums. “i’ll go with you.”
“you should go with them,” she laughs, grabbing his arm with a small nod. “i’ll text you when i’m back, i promise. i’ll be okay — i just need to take a nap, i reckon.”
logan furrows his eyebrows and his smile drops at her insistence. “i can walk you back to the hotel if you want.”
she shakes her head. “i’ll be okay. you guys have fun, okay?”
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she kneels on her beanbag, lips pressed together as she looks out of the tiny window of her driver’s room. right by the porch of her racing home are her friends gathered, laughing and having a good time as they awaited her arrival.
“bub,” matt sighs. “are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?”
she turns around with a small smile, scrunching her nose. “i’ll be okay, bub. i’m just not really feeling like heading to the club tonight.”
he walks over to her, slumping his shoulders as she leans into his body for a hug. “at least let me stay with you? i don’t like you being alone when i’m around. i’m sure we can come up with some silly excuse that they won’t giggle at like 12-year-olds.”
“you have to go,” she hums, pulling her head back to look up at him, “it’s logan’s race win — just go in my place, please? tell him i’m really sorry i can’t be there.”
he hums, cupping her cheek. she leans into his touch with a soft sigh and her eyes fluttering close. “you should tell him that yourself. you owe him that much; he’s your best friend.”
she shakes her head, her hand coming up to rest above the hand that’s on her face. “i can’t,” she chokes, tears filling her eyes, “you know how i feel about this. just do this one for me, bub.”
“fine,” he sighs, hunching over to press his lips to her forehead. “but you can’t keep avoiding logan and oscar and throwing me out there to face them. they miss you, you know?”
she can hear logan’s laugh in the air mixed with ylona’s. she grins slightly, “i’m sure they’ve got better things to care about other than me.”
“don’t even say that,” he pulls away, “text me when you get back to the hotel, okay? i love you.”
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she scratches the back of her head roughly, nails digging into her scalp as she holds her helmet in her hands.
she mutters under her breath as she tears everything off from her body: her balaclava, her gloves, the earpiece. everything’s not right, everything’s not going her way and that’s unfair.
nobody’s worked as hard as she has to be where she is right now is all that goes in her head. it’s unfair that she’s getting the brunt of the criticism when it came to andretti’s performance on the grid this year.
she doesn’t see liam getting decimated by the masses, and she clearly doesn’t see it on sebastian or her team principal or mechanics for not producing a car to get results in a weekend.
she’s qualified at the very back of the grid this time — p19. just imagine what everyone will have to say; what everyone will zoom into just to have something to say about her driving.
it’s always her skills, never the fact that the car is simply shit.
“rocky,” she hears sebastian sigh behind her. “let’s talk.”
she shakes her head, clenching her jaw as she heads towards the exit of her garage. she doesn’t bother turning around to look at him. “just fuck off.”
the one thing she wishes to stop coming by is sebastian’s excuses for the team. it’s the same thing over and over again. it’s unfair that she’s the one getting fucked over by the media.
it’s not fair.
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lucyandalexiafan · 2 days
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I'm scared | Alexia Putellas x Reader | part 2
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summary: first time that Alexia and reader talk about sex (specifically: masturbation) after the walk.
warnings: angst, allusion to past sexual abuses. really light smut moment (r comes home early and sees Alexia have orgasm using a vibrator).
words: 3k
Part 1
When you had spoken to Alexia about your past, about those experiences, you hadn't expected her to be so understanding and engaged in helping you.
Even though you knew she was a sweet person, kind, and in some way you knew she loved you, or was starting to develop strong feelings for you, up until that day you had believed she wouldn't stay with you once she found out what had happened to you.
Alexia is beautiful, charming, loved by hundreds of thousands of people; she's the captain of Spain and Barcelona, which means she's surrounded by beautiful women, a lot of them probably much more predisposed to have sex with her and much less anxious about it. She's famous, so not only fans and other footballers would want something with her, but also other celebrities, like models or actresses or singers.
Alexia doesn't just play football, she's also a football activist, a model and she works with some brands, which means she works in contexts that allow her to meet many (beautiful) women.
All these things had made it difficult for you to think that she would stay after that walk.
She took you home once you had returned to the car because the next day she had to go to Madrid for work with Nike. Before getting out of the car, you had kissed her and, thinking it was the last time, you had tried to imprint the image of Alexia so close to your face in your memory. You thought you wouldn't see her again and that she wouldn't contact you anymore, that she would ghost you or break up with you by message.
You had spent that night sleepless, tears flowing heavily from your eyes and nausea that had forced you to sit on the bathroom floor for a few hours, the retching had painfully contracted your body several times during those hours. Even though you hated yourself every time you did it, you kept checking your phone hoping to see a notification from her, a message, a post sent on Instagram or TikTok, and the more time passed, the more you received no news from her, the more nausea and the tears increased, the more you believed you had lost her forever.
Yet, the next day, the sound of the doorbell had woken you up. You had struggled to get out of bed, the headache was killing you and your back seemed to be broken in two by the pain, the sweat covering your forehead was a symptom of yet another nightmare that had invaded your sleep. 
You looked at the video intercom and saw a delivery man. "Yes, who's there?" you had asked, your voice hoarse, ruined by crying.
"Hello, I'm from Bakery Adele, I was told I have to deliver this order to this address" the delivery guy had replied, his voice annoyingly shrill, before asking for confirmation of identity.
You had told him he could leave it at the concierge and that you would come down later, but he had persuaded you by saying there was a piping hot double espresso cappuccino and a freshly baked cream-filled brioche waiting for you.
You had put on a jacket that was hanging on the coat rack, a jacket of Alexia, and had gone down. The delivery guy handed you the breakfast, a little note attached to the package, and then said goodbye.
Bakery Adele doesn't do deliveries, never.
Once you had entered the house, you had opened the note, and tears had returned when you had read it.
"I thought of ordering your favorite breakfast from your bakery. Whenever you feel like it, if you want, write to me or call me, I'm always here. I miss you, but I'll wait for you to feel ready to talk to me. Alexia <3"
Tears, tears, and more tears.
You had bitten your lip as you grabbed your phone to video call her. You didn't care about the condition of your face or your hair at that moment, you only cared about seeing if it was true, if she was sincere. You had spent the whole night thinking she hadn't written to you because she didn't want to talk to you anymore, only to find out she was waiting for you?
"Amor," her voice, her sweet voice, invaded the deafening silence of your home.
"Ale-" you had replied trying to articulate a sentence, but inevitably ending up crying.
"What's wrong, amor? Are you okay?" she was worried, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted.
"I thought you didn't want me anymore and now the breakfast has arrived and I don't understand and-" You start speaking quickly, thoughts overlapping in your mind one after another, as you try to express yourself, to tell her how confused you feel right now.
"Take a breath, amor breath with me. Did you think I wouldn't call you? - you shook your head - Amor, I told you I'm in love with you, why would I leave you?"
You hadn't talked much, actually, because she was about to enter the store and there was a lot of confusion, but she had called you back that evening.
And the day after, and the day after that, until she had shown up at your house with takeout Chinese food.
A couple of days after she returned, you had asked if you could talk, if you could talk about what had happened. You knew that the best idea would have been to go to her place, a place from which it would have been easy to run away from her if things didn't go as you hoped, and not to your place, where Alexia could have stayed even against your will; but the emotional comfort you felt being in your own home was crucial to be able to talk to her, to face the situation.
You were at your home, on the couch: you were sitting cross-legged, your hands holding hers, and you had told her that you understood if this thing was bigger than her, if she didn't want to wait for some time to do something sexual, but you had also told her that a part of you would have wanted her to stay because you wanted to face this thing with her, that you truly wanted to face it.
Alexia, hesitant, had told you, after a while of talking, that she thought it was appropriate for you to start a therapy process, maybe also to go to therapy together, because only then could you fully face the trauma. She also made sure to tell you that if you couldn't afford it continuously over time or with the right frequency, she would help you financially because, yes, facing it, but with the right psychologist. Shyly, she had told you that she had done a couple of searches on the best psychologists in Barcelona for this type of trauma and had found one really good, and that she would also be available to do couple therapy.
You had told her you would think about it and a few days later you had contacted one of the psychologists on her list.
The initial doubts about her seriousness in being faithful to you and not seeking anyone else for sexual satisfaction surfaced when she left for a National Team camp, and they exploded when you thought she was cheating on you with Jenni. The endless social media edits you continued to see fueled the doubt that perhaps, while genuinely attempting to complete the therapeutic journey, she was seeking to fulfill her sexual desire with someone else in secret.
At the third couple's therapy session after that camp, you addressed the issue. You had resignedly told her that you wanted to know if she was with other women, that you would understand but needed to know. She was shocked. She had told you multiple times that she only wanted you, that she would wait for you, that she didn't want anyone else, that she didn't want Jenni.
You had discussed it several times in therapy over the next two weeks, and even outside of therapy, but Alexia always said the same thing: I will wait for you, I want you.
The doubts had more or less disappeared when few weeks later you caught her having an orgasm with a vibrator while she thought you were still out. You were on holiday in the Canary Islands, you had gone out to do some shopping and go to an open-air market while she was sleeping, and you had left her a message saying you wouldn't be back in two hours; too bad the open-air market was on Thursday, not Tuesday, so you had returned after a little over half an hour. 
As soon as you entered the house, you heard moans and silently approached the bedroom, only to see her in the middle of the bed, her hand between her legs and a buzzing sound in the background accompanying her moans. 
You froze in place, not knowing what to do, or what to say. 
You didn't even know she had a vibrator. You hadn't really thought about it, actually.
You hadn't even had time to think about how to react because shortly after she reached the peak of pleasure, so you quickly moved towards the door, opened and closed it more loudly, pretending you had just entered. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you thought it would be easy to pretend you hadn't seen her, but you were wrong, especially for two reasons: seeing her climax had made you incredibly horny and you couldn't remove the image of her having an orgasm from your mind, so you couldn't even look her in the eyes.
Alexia had sensed something was wrong and asked you if everything was okay at dinner, when she asked if she had done something wrong. You almost choked on the water you were drinking, your cheeks suddenly burning, as you tried to come up with some excuses, only to give in.
"Amor, I don't know how to say it - you lowered your gaze, embarrassed to admit it, afraid she would get angry - I... today I came home earlier than you think and I-I saw you-"
"Fuck - Alexia exclaimed bluntly - Amor, I'm sorry, I... it shouldn't have happened, I thought you'd be back later," her tone suddenly guilty, as if masturbating were a fault.
"Are you sorry? - you asked, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded, her face red with embarrassment - But... why?"
Her expression became confused. "I-you weren't supposed to see me, I don't want you to think-"
"Since when you do it?" you asked, then realized the stupidity of the question when the older woman tilted her head to the side; you tried to change the subject, but she asked you to talk about it, to ask her, because it was important for her that you talked about it.
"Do you want to know if I've been doing it since we started dating or when I started doing it in general?" her tone was so calm, so relaxed, that you trusted her, trusted that she really just wanted to talk about it.
That was the first time you had talked so specifically about your sexual life, at least hers. 
She had told you she lost her virginity to a girl when she was fifteen, started using sex toys at sixteen, that throughout her relationship with Jenni they had been an integral part of the relationship, but she started using them less when she broke up with her because at that point she was having a lot of casual sex.
"I had sex with other women before I met you, both occasional and steady partners, so I didn't really need to use them to have an orgasm. Then we met, the relationship became serious and we started dating, so I stopped seeing other people, and when I realized we wouldn't have sex, I started using them more often. Since you told me about your past, I've started using them frequently again."
You bit your lip as you listened to her, it was evident that she was hesitant, choosing her words carefully, but at the same time she was so sure, so calm. The calmness with which she spoke about it almost gave you comfort, almost reassured you that she wasn't lying, that what she was saying was true.
"You can ask me anything, amor, none question is stupid."
"Do you do it because we don't have sex?"
She nodded hesitantly. "How does this make you feel? - you raised your eyebrows, confused - I don't want this thing to make you feel bad."
"It makes sense that you do it - you replied, your tone devoid of negative emotions - We don't have sex and you need to... have an orgasm. Why didn't you tell me?"
She took a sip of water in an attempt to stall. "I... I thought you would take it badly, that you would feel guilty or something, and I didn't want that. I told you I want to wait for you, but I was afraid that if I told you you would think that I necessarily need someone to have sex with or for me to tell you to speed things up - she sighed - But as you saw, my sex toys give me great orgasms and I could go on just with them for years" she continued, trying to relax the tension that had been created with her answer.
You chuckled with her, even though you were sorry she did it in secret, that she did it only when you weren't there, that she was afraid you would take it badly.
It was her first orgasm you had seen, and you had never really thought about the fact that she could be satisfied in other ways than having sex with other people.
"I had never thought that you would seek orgasms in other ways than sex - you simply stated - It's a stupid thing, sorry."
"It's not, actually. We've never talked about this, about maybe masturbating or actually wanting to have sex, regardless of whether we do it or not - the reflective tone, the calm voice - For example, when I feel the need to have an orgasm, use a vibrator because the orgasms I have using it are generally more satisfying than when I just use my fingers; but when I want to have sex, as well as an orgasm, I use my fingers because they feel closer to what I could have having sex with you."
You widened your eyes at the revelation, at how calmly she said it. You knew it was normal for her to be calm, you were glad she talked about it freely, but you didn't expect her to be so sincere.
"I've said too much, sorry. Please forget it," she continued, her voice concerned, her gaze now on the plate, her hands quickly grabbing the fork and knife to put them on the plate.
"No! - you replied, scaring her - Sorry, I don't know how to talk about it, but I'd like to, I like that we talk about it."
There was a pause, Alexia was simply smiling at you, perhaps surprised that you were actually having this conversation, perhaps because she didn't know what to say.
"I masturbate thinking about you," you said, a statement.
The woman in front of you widened her eyes, a choked moan escaped her mouth, the dismay obvious.
"When I do it I-I think about the two of us having sex or-or... doing sexual things - you lowered your gaze, a sense of humiliation invading your body when she said nothing - Please don't be mad at me"
You close your eyes, scared at the idea that she might start yelling that it's disrespectful, that it's wrong for you to do it, or, worse, that she might get up to hurt you, or physically punish you for it.
"Get mad? Why should I get mad? - her voice confused - It's normal for you to masturbate, to seek orgasm."
"Even if it's not with you?" she nodded "It's just that we don't have sex but I masturbate and... doesn't it make you mad?"
Your voice sounded more frightened than you wanted, but it was true that you feared she would get angry. You didn't want to have sex with her, you were afraid to have sex with her, but you touched yourself thinking of her; how could she take it?
"I'm glad you can touch yourself, that at least that part of your sexuality hasn't been broken," she moved her hands towards yours, squeezing them between hers "There's nothing wrong, amor, I'd be a selfish insecure person to think otherwise."
You bit your lip as you looked at her, admiring her. How could she always know what to say, always say the right thing?
"So, did you like to watch me while I touch myself?" you coughed embarrassed, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it.
You had enjoyed watching her come, even though it was by chance and for a short time, even though it was an unexpected thing that shouldn't have happened. The image of her coming, of her orgasm, was imprinted in your mind.
"I- you were just so beautiful when you came. I don't know how to say it, I feel stupid, and- it was like, I don't know - you sighed frustrated - it's just that I wish it were me making you come like that, not a vibrator."
"There's time, amor," she told you.
She was right, there was time, but you wanted to be the one instead of that vibrator.
I'm sorry it took me so long to post this, a few bad things happened and I didn't have the mind to write. this is a text that I wrote about two weeks ago but I only translated it last night; I'm not 100/100 satisfied, but I wanted to introduce a moment of discussion about sex before anything sexual could happen. I dealt with the topic of insecurity and jealousy in a very light way (perhaps superficially) but it seemed like the only way to introduce the moment on holiday. the hardest part for me, and what makes me a little dissatisfied, was trying to figure out whether what I wrote about accidentally seeing Alexia have an orgasm was itself a violation of consent, or could be construed as an accident (which it actually is); I chose to interpret it as an accident that Alexia knew could happen and to avoid the parties considering it a violation of consent. If this seems wrong to you, or will trigger a lot of people, I think I'll revisit this chapter. as usual, thanks for reading what I wrote :)
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dolcejwnie · 2 days
Text
INK MY HEART. Y. JUNGWON
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synopsis: a lost bet leads you to flirt with your local tattoo artist yang jungwon.
warning: none
genre: tattoo artist! jungwon x reader, fluffy, awkward reader, kinda flirty jungwon
remember to reblog and like for more content!
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the bet was lost in a haze of laughter and drinks, leaving you standing awkwardly outside a tattoo shop, heart racing with nerves. you had to flirt with the tattoo artist—a stranger whose name you didn't even know.
taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door, the bell chiming softly above your head. the shop was dimly lit, filled with the buzz of tattoo machines and the scent of ink.
your eyes fell on him immediately—a tall, lean figure with an array of tattoos peeking out from beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Jungwon, the tattoo artist – you read on the label on his shirt.
"hi there," you managed to squeak out, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. the words felt like a clumsy stumble out of your mouth, tripping over nerves and uncertainty. as they hung in the air, you couldn't help but cringe inwardly at how awkward you must sound.
in that moment, a flurry of thoughts raced through your mind like a whirlwind. should you have said something different? was "hi there" too casual, too hesitant? would Jungwon think you were a complete fool for stumbling over such a simple greeting?
your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the sound of blood rushing in your ears drowning out all other noise. you cursed yourself for not being more composed, more charming—like the confident flirt you had imagined yourself to be in this scenario.
but as you stole a glance at Jungwon, you found yourself momentarily frozen by the intensity of his gaze. his eyes, dark and enigmatic, seemed to hold a silent promise of understanding, as if he could sense the whirlwind of nerves and emotions raging within you.
heat crept up your neck, suffusing your cheeks with a deep crimson blush. you wished you could disappear into the floor, escape the suffocating embarrassment that seemed to cling to you like a second skin.
"smooth," you chided yourself inwardly, mentally kicking yourself for your lack of grace. you had imagined this flirtatious encounter a thousand times in your head, rehearsing witty lines and charming smiles. and yet, when faced with the reality of the moment, all those practiced words seemed to evaporate into thin air.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. He seemed to sense your nerves, but instead of easing them, he leaned against the counter, looking amused.
"what can I do for you?" he asked, his voice smooth and enticing.
you fumbled for words, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for being there. "uh, i, um... i heard you're the best," you blurted out, mentally cringing at your lack of subtlety.
Jungwon chuckled softly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "flattery won't get you everywhere," he replied, gesturing for you to take a seat.
panic set in as you realized you hadn't even thought about what tattoo you wanted. you glanced around the shop, your eyes landing on a display of intricate silk designs.
"I-I want a silk tattoo," you blurted out, feeling your palms grow sweaty.
Jungwon arched an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. " silk tattoo, huh? ay particular design in mind?"
your mind went blank, the pressure mounting as Jungwon patiently waited for an answer. and then, without thinking, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"a small book," you said, gesturing to your ankle. "right there."
Jungwon's lips twitched with amusement as he prepared his equipment. "a book, it is," he said, his voice teasing.
the tattoo chair felt more like a throne of nerves as you settled into it, Jungwon's skilled hands preparing to ink your skin. your heart raced wildly in your chest, and you cursed your luck for getting yourself into this situation.
as Jungwon began to sketch the outline of the small book on your ankle, you found yourself struggling to come up with anything coherent to say.
the tattoo machine buzzed softly in the background, its rhythmic hum filling the air. each buzz sent a jolt of nerves through you, the sound echoing in your ears like a relentless drumbeat. anxiety twisted in the pit of your stomach, making it hard to focus on anything else. as Jungwon worked his magic, the sound of the ink pen seemed to grow louder, each stroke of the needle sending shivers down your spine. you couldn't help but wonder if Jake would ever believe the wild tale that was unfolding in the tattoo shop that night.
"uh, so, do you, uh, get a lot of people asking for silk tattoos?" you blurted out, mentally cringing at the awkwardness of your question.
Jungwon glanced up from his work, a small smile playing on his lips. "not as many as you'd think," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring. "but I have to say, you're the first to ask for a book."
you flushed hot with embarrassment, feeling like a fool for blurting out such a random request. "I, um, I like books," you muttered, your cheeks burning.
Jungwon chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "nothing wrong with that," he replied, his tone light and teasing.
"o-ow!" you exclaimed suddenly, more out of nerves than actual pain.
Jungwon paused, looking up at you with concern. "are you okay? Did that hurt?"
you shook your head quickly, feeling foolish for overreacting. "n-no, I'm fine. just... nervous, i guess."
Jungwon's touch was like a soothing balm on your frayed nerves, the warmth of his hand seeping through your skin and calming the storm of anxiety within you. as he squeezed your leg reassuringly, you felt a rush of comfort wash over you, his gentle gesture a silent promise of support.
"you're doing great," his voice, soft and encouraging, whispered in your ear, barely audible over the hum of the tattoo machine. the tension in your muscles eased at his words, and you found yourself relaxing into the chair, surrendering to the moment.
a nervous smile tugged at your lips as you met Jungwon's gaze, finding warmth and understanding in his eyes. "th-thanks," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. heat rushed to your cheeks, coloring them a rosy hue that you were sure Jungwon could see.
his eyes crinkled at the corners as he returned your smile, a silent reassurance that filled you with a sense of ease. in that moment, with Jungwon's hand still resting gently on your leg, you felt a flutter of something unfamiliar yet exhilarating stirring within you.
it was a mixture of nervous anticipation and a budding attraction, the kind that made your heart race and your stomach flutter with butterflies. you couldn't deny the warmth spreading through you at Jungwon's touch, the way his presence seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of safety and comfort.
as the tattooing continued, each stroke of the needle sending a jolt of sensation through your skin, you found yourself stealing glances at Jungwon whenever you dared. his focused expression, the way his eyes crinkled in concentration, the faint hint of a smile playing on his lips—it all added to the growing flutter in your chest.
and when Jungwon's hand brushed against yours as he adjusted his position, a jolt of electricity shot through you, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. it was a fleeting touch, innocent yet charged with unspoken possibilities, leaving you craving more.
lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself drawn to Jungwon in ways you couldn't quite explain. his presence was a comforting anchor in the midst of your swirling thoughts and emotions, grounding you in the here and now.
but as the tattooing neared its end, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of Jungwon's touch leaving your skin. the warmth of his hand, the gentle reassurance in his voice—they had become a lifeline in this whirlwind of nerves and anticipation.
and when the final stroke of the needle marked the completion of the tattoo, you couldn't suppress the sigh of both relief and regret that escaped your lips. Jungwon's hand lingered for a moment longer, the warmth of his touch searing into your skin, before he withdrew with a gentle smile.
as you sat there, heart still racing and cheeks flushed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of loss at the absence of Jungwon's touch.
"okay, all done," Jungwon announced finally, wiping away the excess ink. "take a look."
you leaned forward eagerly, your heart pounding in your chest. snd there it was—the small book tattooed beautifully on your ankle, its pages fluttering delicately in the imaginary breeze.
"it's perfect," you breathed, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside you.
Jungwon grinned, a proud glint in his eyes. "glad you think so," he replied, his voice soft.
as you admired the tattoo, a comfortable silence settled over the room. you couldn't help but steal glances at Jungwon, admiring the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light, the way his tattooed arms flexed with every movement.
"um, so, what now?" you asked, suddenly realizing that you didn't quite know what to do next.
Jungwon chuckled, a warm sound that made your heart flutter. "well, first you'll need to sign a few forms," he said, gesturing to the paperwork on the table. "and then... well, that's up to you."
you nodded, trying to focus on the paperwork as your mind raced with possibilities. but when you glanced up, you noticed something strange on the receipt Jungwon handed you.
"wait a minute," you said, furrowing your brow in confusion. "what's this?"
Jungwon leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "that," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "is my number."
your eyes widened in surprise, a surge of excitement coursing through you. "y-your number?"
Jungwon winked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "in case you ever need a touch-up," he replied, his voice teasing.
before you could respond, Jungwon was already moving on to his next client, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a piece of paper burning a hole in your pocket.
as you stepped out into the bustling city, the tattoo on your ankle felt like a secret, a reminder of the unexpected and thrilling encounter with Jungwon. and as you pulled out the piece of paper with his number, a smile tugged at your lips.
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mechaknight-98 · 2 days
Text
Festival Prep (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki
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Authors note: An Epilogue to festivities and technically a prologue to another piece that hasn’t been named yet. Enjoy needy Breedy Kura
Part I
The next day, the two woke up to a loud yell, signaling the return of the other Fimmies.
"Yunjin, chill out. You know Sakura is still asleep," Porter, Yunjin’s boyfriend, said as Yunjin rushed through the dorm.
"But I've missed my favorite Unnie’s birthday, and I need to make sure she's okay. Good Morning Kkura unnie ah, holy shit…" Yunjin’s outburst was cut short when she saw the young man lying shirtless next to Sakura. He raised himself to face the voices he heard, with Daigo's still-closed eyes turning towards them before gently patting Sakura awake.
As Sakura woke up, she realized they had slept through their planned breakfast and second date as a couple. She noticed the shocked expressions of Yunjin, Porter, Chaewon, Aaron, and Kazuha standing at the door.
Confused, Sakura asked, "What is it?" Everyone pointed to Daigo, whose eyes were still closed as he adjusted to being awake. Sakura turned to see Daigo and her face flushed red.
“Mrs. Miyawaki,” Porter teased.
"I can explain," Sakura said. Daigo, now fully awake, looked amused as Sakura tried to explain their late date and why he stayed over.
"Right," Yunjin said sarcastically before turning to Daigo. "So, what's your name, tough guy?"
"Oh, my name is Daihirou Godbolt, but everyone calls me Daigo," he replied.
"Your first name is Daihirou?" Sakura was surprised, having always thought Daigo was his first name. Daigo explained that it was a family tradition.
“Daigo… I like it,” Chaewon said cutely, causing Sakura to feel a strange pang of jealousy.
"Daigo, wait, are you the Warlock main who played Destiny 2 with Kura?" Kazuha asked, vaguely recognizing the game.
Daigo nodded, and everyone seemed to recognize him.
“Well, I never expected you to be so…” Yunjin hesitated before settling on "tall," causing Sakura to feel a protective rage over Daigo, despite his towering presence. Daigo remained oblivious to the tension.
“So, besides playing games with Kura Noona, what do you do for work?” Porter asked.
“Oh, that's classified. I'm not being hyperbolic; it's classified, got a clearance and everything,” Daigo explained, prompting chuckles.
“Okay, well then we'll leave you two alone now,” Chaewon asserted, ushering everyone out. Finally, Sakura's tension eased as she turned to her boyfriend.
"Ya, why did you let Chaewon look at you like that?" Kura asked annoyed. Daigo squinted, confused, but before Sakura could react, Chaewon walked in, reminding them of their plans to meet up with their friends to celebrate Sakura’s birthday. Sakura nodded and shooed Daigo away.
As he got ready to leave, Sakura walked by and playfully slapped his butt, smiling as she enjoyed the jiggle. "I'll see you later, stud," she said, and Daigo rolled his eyes but kissed her on the cheek before departing. Sakura smiled as he left, but her smile faded when Eunchae entered the dorm.
“Are you Kura’s boyfriend?” Eunchae asked teasingly. Not feeling threatened, Daigo replied, “Yes, I am,” which excited Eunchae, who eagerly prompted him to tell her everything.
“Well, first things first, my name is Daigo,” he said, and Eunchae recognized the name, squealing with excitement.
“You played Destiny with Kura,” she exclaimed, pointing at his Sunshot tattoo. Daigo, defeated, admitted, “Destiny 2,” as Eunchae teased them about their shared interest.
“So, what else is interesting about you, Mr. Daigo?” she asked with a mischievous smile. Daigo hesitated but decided to share that he was a paranormal investigator for Fortune 500 companies. Eunchae looked confused, causing Daigo to laugh.
“I hunt monsters,” he clarified, though Eunchae still seemed bewildered. Daigo found it easier to open up to Eunchae, seeing her as an annoying little sister, and shared some truths about himself.
As Daigo engaged with Eunchae, Kura observed him and found his mannerisms endearing, despite knowing he was a bit unusual. She particularly loved his awkward high-five as she watched them interact. After Eunchae left, she bumped into Sakura.
“Oh, Unnie, I met your boyfriend. He's weird but funny. You should have him around more,” Eunchae teased, eliciting an eye roll from Sakura.
“No,” she said firmly before walking back out to Daigo who be as prepping to leave. Sakura felt the urge to pounce on him and fuck his brains out in their living room right then but resisted. Sakura didn't know what was going on with her but for her and Daigo there was this unrelenting need to fuck the other into a stupor, but that would have to wait.
"Hey, Daigo, can you walk with me to the restaurant?" Sakura asked shyly. Daigo smiled and replied, "Sure thing, Kura, technically it's still your birthday. At least according to Freedom Time."
As the couple walked to the restaurant, Sakura expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thanks for coming, Daigo."
"Well, I missed a quarter-century, so I had to make it up to my Megastar idol friend," Daigo replied, a hint of remorse coloring his usually dry wit.
Curious, Sakura asked, "Hey, how did you get my address?"
"Oh, I have my ways," Daigo answered cryptically.
"That's kinda creepy," Sakura remarked.
Daigo stopped and turned to face her. "Kura, we've sent letters, games, money, addresses, and God knows what else to each other over the years. At this point, if we gave each other any more information about the other, we would have to be legally classified as married."
Sakura laughed as memories flooded back. "Oh yeah, that's right," she chuckled. "If we were to get married though, you're taking my last name," she teased.
Daigo knew Sakura was joking but a fire lit inside him to put his breeding bitch in her place
“No, I am not. We are either doing both of our names hyphenated or you're taking mine. I don't want my breeding bitch having ties to another man even if it's her father or grandfather. I want her to be mine and mine alone” Daigo said confidently and with authority but also a cheeky smile to let Kura know he was joking (somewhat). He wasn't loud about it either. He spoke just enough so that Sakura could hear him and his tone. The change in his tone was instantly felt by Sakura though who felt a burning heat in her core. It was so intense she almost pounced on him right then and there. She had to take a short break then said to Daigo
“Babe you can't be saying things like.” Sakura’s tone and body language were needy.
“Why does my breeding bitch not get enough last night?” Daigo's voice echoed his tone from the previous night as he teased driving Kura’s neediness to new heights. She glared at him and then continued walking despite desperately wanting him to take her then and there.
Daigo teases Kura with, “Don’t worry I fill you up after this lunch of yours.” Daigo said calmly. Kura turned to her stud and rubbed her thighs together
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kura said in response her body screaming at her to take this man down an alley and do terrifying things to his body, but in classic Daigo nonchalance he laughed it off. After that, the couple arrive at the restaurant. They were in the first group to arrive along with Yujin Wonyoung and Eunbi. The three strangers stared at Daigo suspiciously. Daigo oblivious to their attention waves kura off and walks away.
“Hey, Unnie who was that?” Yujin asked intrigued about him,
“Oh, that was Daigo, my gaming buddy and boyfriend. Sakura said with a smile. The girls look at her with surprised looks. Eunbi laughed and said
“Well, you picked a cute one Kura. Would you mind sharing him?” Eunbi praised and joked. Sakura didn’t appreciate the way Eunbi looked at her stud.
“Well Unnie I do have excellent taste and I will not be sharing because he is mine,” the biting undertone of Sakura’s voice was surprising to all present. She resented how possessive she felt over him but any thought directed to him and her separating ways drove her ballistic. Eunbi Yujin and Wonyoung also noticed this and made notes not to joke about stealing her boyfriend.
Kura arrived at the hotel seething. She hated the way her body made her feel when the girls saw Daigo. Couldn’t her sisters she that he was hers? They looked at her stud like a piece of meat. It made her so angry she just wanted to fuck Daigo in front of them and show them he was her stud alone. Thinking about fucking him made her wet and hot so she began to take off her outer layers as she neared Daigo’s Door. When he opened the door she threw her top at him.
“Strip now.” was her simple command. She closed the door and locked it behind her. She quickly disrobed as Daigo wasn't Far behind. Daigo saw fury and lust in Sakura’s eyes, and despite his understanding of her neediness he checked in with her emotionally first
“Kura are you okay,” Daigo asks. Kura breathes in deep before pinning him to the bed and tearing off his clothes.
“Your breeding bitch needs her stud,” she says raspily as she lines her entrance with his rod. As Kura sinks further into Daigo’s cock. Daigo groans as Kura rides him. Her breasts sway mesmerizingly in the amber light of the golden hour
“Don’t those sluts get it? This dick: mine. This ass: mine. This fucking heart: mine” kura says taking a break as she grips the various pieces of Daigo she was referring to. She rides Daigo slowly hoping to draw his biggest load yet out of him. Despite being on the pill she held this almost insatiable desire to be bred. Her walls tightened around Daigo as she thought about him filling her up causing him to moan loudly, “That’s it, stud moan for your breeding bitch tell me how good it feels and how my pussy is so much better than those other sluts.” Sakura cooed
“Fuck Kura this tight pussy is gonna make me cum.” Daigo warned.
“Do it. Fill me. Fill me so much that my womb can’t help but swell with your children. Fuck a baby no twins into my cunt.” Sakura demanded, and a familiar switch flipped in Daigo’s mind as he lifted Kura and began slow, methodical yet powerful thrusts to match her riding.
“You’re so hot you know that. When I walked with you today I had to hold back my urges just to fuck you in front of everyone to show them who you belong to. Men and women want you but you’re mine you know that.” Daigo stated and Sakura moaned
“Oh God yes.” She said as her stud reassured her. Daigo went in for another kiss as his mind only became focused on Kura and ducking here senseless his skin had gone numb except for the pleasure their union gave. Sakura picks up her pace as Does Daigo as they near their mutual release.
“Please, please, fill me up. I need your cum. I need it. Make me pregnant so everyone knows I’m yours. Please Stud. Breed Our bitch. Sakura pleaded giving into the screaming demands of her needy body
“My goodness such a needy bitch. Is your need for my cum more than your career love.”
“Please give me a litter of pups. Make your breeding bitch a mommy.” Sakura moans as she hits her peak. This combination sends Daigo over the edge as he unloads a hot load into her womb. Both are too far gone to worry about the consequences already caught in the riptide of a breeding frenzy taking over their bodies as they quickly fuck and fuck and fuck until they fall asleep. The next day Kura wakes up to several texts and calls. She looks to Daigo who looks worn out, and kisses his cheek. He stirs awake barely.
“Morning stud. I have to go but thank you for satisfying me with my birthday.” Daigo nods
“Anytime Kura.”
Kura smiles, “see you at Coachella then?”
Daigo nods
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nvuy · 17 hours
Text
hijacked — boothill
summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.
notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh
warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?
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“Hey, pretty thing.”
Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.
You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.
Did he know?
It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.
“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.
He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.
He just looked so out of place at the banquet.
He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.
“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.
His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.
No weak spots.
“N’aww. Shame.”
The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.
“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”
You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”
“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”
“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”
“Good. You know your worth.”
You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.
Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.
You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.
“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.
He winked. “Guess.”
You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”
“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”
Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.
“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.
He flashed his teeth in warning.
Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”
You stopped short.
He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.
You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.
He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.
Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.
You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.
“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”
“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”
“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”
You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.
The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.
The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.
You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.
Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.
You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”
“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.
You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.
Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.
He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.
Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.
“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”
You gritted your teeth.
You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.
Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.
You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.
You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.
“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.
You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.
Or…
Or what? What else could you do?
Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.
You then formed the worst idea of your life.
With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.
“Knew you’d come ‘round.” He held out his hand expectantly.
You fished the USB from your bag.
Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.
He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.
There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.
The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.
You grinned. Gotcha.
When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.
When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.
All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.
It was missing just his head.
He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”
You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”
When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.
Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.
He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.
It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.
He should’ve seen this coming.
You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.
“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”
He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.
“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.
He was glaring at you.
“Did the IPC send you?”
After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.
“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”
“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”
You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.
“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”
Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.
You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.
You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.
You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.
You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.
Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.
“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.
You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”
He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.
He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.
Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.
You snapped the powder shut.
The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”
“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”
You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.
“You’d never hit me, would you?”
His face almost lit up with fury.
It was absolutely hilarious.
“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”
“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.
You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.
“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”
You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”
Begrudgingly, he did so.
You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.
“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”
You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.
“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”
Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.
In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.
You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.
As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.
He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.
He held it between his thumb and index finger.
There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.
Mission accomplished, he supposed.
He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.
He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.
You smelled like strawberry.
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strnsvt · 2 days
Text
yoon jeonghan — pineapple's kiss and dad's wisdom.
dad!jeonghan ; mom!reader
jeonghan was greeted by the sound of laughter echoing through the house. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he kicked off his shoes, the familiar warmth of home enveloping him.
making his way into the living room, he found you and ara sitting on the couch, your faces lit up with joy.
"what's all this laughter about?" jeonghan asked, kissing you and ara on the cheek before settling onto the carpeted floor, leaning his back against the couch, loosening his tie.
"go on, tell your papa what happened at school today," you prompted.
ara's laughter bubbled over as she leaned forward, eager to share her story with her father. "pineapple kissed me on the cheek!"
jeonghan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "pineapple kissed you on the cheek?" he repeated.
you nodded, adding "a boy in her class, she calls him pineapple cause he looks like one,"
jeonghan's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement, "first of all, how does one look like a pineapple?" he stammered, trying to wrap his head around the peculiar nickname.
"and secondly," he continued, his tone shifting to a more serious one, "you can't let a boy just kiss you like that, ara. you need to set boundaries,"
you nodded in agreement, placing a comforting hand on ara's shoulder. "your papa's right, ara. it's important to respect yourself and make sure others respect you too."
"i know, ma, papa. but i like him. and i liked when he kissed me. just like how you kiss ma,"
jeonghan sighs. his heart softening at ara's innocent nonetheless. "ara, sweetheart," he began gently, "i'm married to your ma, which is why we can do things like kiss each other. but for you, you're still very young,"
"that's right, honey. when you're older, you'll understand more about relationships and what's appropriate," you say, offering a small smile.
jeonghan paused, his thoughts swirling as he considered how to proceed. he recalled ara's innocent confusion about the concept of boyfriends, and he didn't want to inadvertently introduce more confusion into her young mind so he avoides using that word.
"ara," he began, "see, papa will be very upset if you allow a boy to kiss you," he says, his tone soft yet very firm.
ara glanced at you and then jeonghan as she nodded solemnly with a smile, "ok ma, papa. i'll listen," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.
jeonghan's heart swelled with pride as he reached out to gently ruffle ara's hair. "that's my girl," he said softly, a warm smile gracing his lips.
as bedtime approached, jeonghan lifted ara onto his back, ready to give her a piggyback ride to her room. ara giggled with delight, wrapping her arms around her father's neck as they made their way down the hallway.
once ara was tucked into bed and drifting off to sleep, jeonghan returned to your room, he noticed you chuckling to yourself, a mischievous glint in your eye.
"what?" jeonghan asked, his brow raised in confusion as he undos the buttons on his wrist.
"it was just a kiss, jeonghan," you replied playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you watched him.
jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "i know, i know," he said, his tone light and affectionate. "but you know how protective i can get when it comes to our little girl. she's five. she doesn't need a boyfriend,"
"boyfriend? do you think she knows even the meaning of it?"
"she doesn't. that's why i avoided using that word infront of her," jeonghan smiles, scoffing, "pineapple," he muttered, the corners of his lips curling up into a fond smile.
you chuckle too, "that was the nickname me and my friends had for you,"
"huh? when?"
"when i was crushing on you, of course,"
jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation. "pineapple? really?" he asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity evident in his tone.
you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "yeah, it was just a silly nickname we came up with," you explained, your cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. "but it's funny how things come full circle, isn't it?"
jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head in fond disbelief. "i never would have guessed," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with newfound warmth. "but i'm glad you stopped calling me that."
you grinned, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "well, you'll always be my pineapple," you teased, a hint of affection in your voice.
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propertyofwicked · 1 day
Text
SECRETS part 6 - LN
warnings: angst, lots of swearing angry max, angry lando, angry y/n - everyone's mad. potentially a happy ending? (u have to read to find out :) ), cheeky bit of fluff
part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> next part coming soon!
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“you fucking lied right to my face, the both of you!” max said, raising his voice and breaking the silence in his living room, “i asked you a year ago and you both lied to me.”
y/n and lando quickly realised that arriving together to talk to max was quite possibly a mistake. the drive to max’s house had started off well, the music flowing through the speakers and easy conversation between the two helped. yet, the closer they got, the more anxious they both started to feel.
they were all in the living room, P had scuttered off to the kitchen, busying herself with baking. max was directing every profanity he could think of towards both lando and his sister, their mother would be horrified to learn max even knew these words let alone the fact he was screaming them at her youngest daughter, y/n thought to herself.
it’s her nature to defend herself, but for the first time in her life, she sat silently, twisting her rings around her fingers. max was so angry, she figured he wouldn’t listen to anything she had to say anyways at this moment in time. so she sat silently, taking the abuse.
“have you slept together?” max suddenly asked, his voice finally calm. y/n’s face grew red, lando stuttering.
“so that’s a yes, she who prides herself on being honest and can’t even give me a straight answer,” he snorts.
“i’m an adult, max. stop being so immature and overbearing,” y/n finally spoke up, her tone bold even though she wanted to do nothing more than cry, “what does it even matter? you’re going to get mad either way.”
“of course i’m mad! you,” he stated, pointing a finger at lando, “have been fucking my sister behind my back.”
“stop saying that shit - it’s not like that.”
“no? then what is it like?” max shouted back, his anger once again bubbling to the surface.
“I LOVE HER! ok, i love her,” lando said, finally raising his voice. the room fell silent. even the blender in the kitchen stopped, letting everyone know P was listening in.
“you love me?” y/n asked softly, turning to face lando. he looked almost scared. he chose to ignore her, moving his head up to stare into max’s eyes.
“max, i love her. i think i always have. i would do anything i could for her,” lando said, his voice returning to his normal tone. max said nothing, he simply turned on his heel and left the room.
“i tried angel,” lando said to the girl next to him, his arm stretching out to rub her thigh softly.
“i know you did,” she replied sadly, “so - you love me?”
“of course i do,” he replied, smiling at her.
“don’t take my lack of reciprocation as a rejection. i just uh- i just need time,” she said, panicking slightly and fumbling her words.
“i don’t expect you to say anything back, my love. we’ll sort this out, i promise.”
she wants to believe him, she really does, but max leaving the room was a bad sign.
“you can’t promise me that,” she says, his hands coming to cup her face and press a sweet kiss to her forehead.
“i will do everything i can to sort things out with max,” he says kissing her head again, before pushing himself off the sofa to follow max’s footsteps out of the room.
y/n sat in the silence, thinking only of the way max’s face fell in a mix of anger and betrayal before he stormed out of the room. too much had happened in the past 4 days, and she hadn’t given herself time to process a single part of it. the tears started flowing, and she feared they would never stop as she started coughing from the intensity of her sobs. P must’ve heard her from the kitchen, as not long after she’d started crying, P was sat next to y/n, pulling her body down to lay her head on her lap, her hand coming to stroke her back softly.
“he’ll come around y/n. he loves you, he can’t stay mad at you forever.”
“he can, and he will,” y/n responds, another wave of tears rolling sideways down her face, landing on P’s trousers.
meanwhile, max was in his room, pacing out of pure anger.
“mate i-,” lando said as he walked in the room.
“no, i dont wanna hear it. you promised me you would never d-” he interupts.
“i know! i know what i said. and i regret it.”
“you regret promising me you’d never defile my sister?”
“i regret not telling you how i felt about her. i regret making that stupid promise when it’s all i wanted.”
“all you wanted was to defile my sister? great argument lando, thanks for stopping by. you can fuck off now.”
“all i wanted was to love your sister. to give her the fucking world if she’d let me.”
“what?”
“i love her. she’s intelligent, she’s strong willed, she’s confident in herself, and i think she’s the most beautiful woman i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he says, barely stopping to breathe, but max was listening - finally. the two friends looked at each other, both of them slightly shaking under the pressure.
“you really love her?” max asks after a few moments of silence, his voice the lowest it had been for hours.
“i do.”
“this isn’t just for a shag?”
“are you joking?”
“just answer the fucking question.”
“no, it’s not just for a shag. i want to spend to rest of my life with her.”
“ok.”
“ok?” lando repeated, confused.
“i’m not ok with this, but i will be eventually. so long as you don’t hurt her.”
“i think you should be more worried about her hurting me,” lando joked in attempt to ease the awkwardness, to his relief max smiled slightly.
“if she hurt you, id be the proudest ive ever been,” he jokes back, earning a small snort from lando.
lando backs himself towards the door, gripping the handle.
“you coming?” he asks max, cocking his head to the side slightly in questioning.
“nah i just need a few minutes to sort myself out.”
“alright mate. i think you need to speak to y/n.”
“don’t tell me what to do,” max quips back, lando holding his hands up in defence before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
when lando re-entered the living room, he saw y/n laying on P’s lap, crying softly, his entrance causing both girls to look up at him. he breathed out a sigh before announcing -
“i think it’s all gonna be ok.”
“i’m going to go an talk to him,” y/n said boldly, sitting up and wiping any remaining tears from her eyes, still trying to regain her regular breathing.
“are you sure that’s a good idea?” lando asked, voice lace with genuine concern.
“i don’t care. i need to let him know that this is not acceptable,” and with that, she left the room. lando and P looked at each other, their eyes both conveying a sense of dread for the impending fall out.
“max?” she asked, knocking on his door.
“go away.”
“no,” she said, pushing the door fully open and sauntering into the room.
“y/n i-”
“no, you’ve done your shouting. it’s my time to talk,” y/n tone was harsh, but it worked. max sat back in the chair, silently, allowing her to finally speak her mind.
“i didn’t do this out of disrespect for you,” she prefaced, breathing in a deep breath before continuing, “i didn’t expect this to happen. i didn’t think any of this was going to happen.”
“i know.”
“but that does not give you any right to decided what or who i do,” she declares, max grimacing slightly at her choice of words, “you made him promise to stay away from me! that’s not on, max. he was my friend too and even if anything else was happening you had absolutely no right to make that decision for me.”
he says nothing, simply nodding at his sister as he digests her words.
“you owe me an apology. for thinking you can control my life and for the way you have behaved in the last 3 days. it’s not the fucking eighteen hundreds, you cannot take this ‘alpha male’ role in my life and make decisions about who i date,” she adds, using her fingers to make quotation marks.
“i know that now,” he responds, guilt laced in his voice.
“what do you mean you ‘know that now’? you should have always known that. you wouldn’t tell sam or theo who they can date, would you?” she asks.
“no, i wouldn’t,” again, responding with a sad sigh, “i’m sorry y/n.”
“you better be. and you better start behaving like you are.”
“i will.”
“starting with buying me a new car,” she jokes, finally uncrossing her arms and smiling softly at him.
“catch yourself on,” he laughs back.
“it’s ok, god loves a trier - besides, i’m pretty sure lando offered to buy me one if he got podium.”
“on second thought, maybe i will buy you a new car.”
the two laughed together, an air of awkwardness still hanging between them. finally, he pushed himself off his chair, walking over to her and embracing her in a tight hug.
“im sorry y/n, im so sorry,” he mumbled into her ear.
“it’s ok max, i don’t think id be too impressed if you started fucking my friends either.”
“ew dont - dont talk about sex or you having it,” he shudders, “in my brain, you’re still 7 and shaving the heads of your barbies.”
“fine.”
“will you do me a favour?” he asks, sheepishly.
“depends.”
“can you and, him, you know, tone it down in front of me. just for a bit? just till i get used to it?”
“i didn’t intend on jumping his bones in front of you anyways, if that’s what you mean?” she jokes.
“y/n,” he groans in feigned annoyance.
“i’m sorry i’m sorry,” she apologises, holding her hands up in defence, the exact same way lando had earlier.
“you and him are probably a good match. you have the same personality. i think i just never wanted to admit it.”
“max fewtrell, stubborn? i never would’ve guessed.”
“i think it’s genetic.”
★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶
tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @mehrmonga @eviethetheatrefreak @thatoneembarrasingmoment @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @formula1mount @lottef1 @rayna-s @5starl1ght @cthgee @thesiduation @urfavsgf @littlehoneyfreak
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v1x3n · 8 hours
Text
♡ nsfw alphabet - simon riley
simon 'ghost' riley x reader ┃ navigation ୨୧ tags : smut, fluff
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
he loves aftercare, its one of his favorite things about sex. he loves the sex smelled filled room with both your sweaty bodies connected with eachother. he cuddles with you, on the nearest comfortable, plush place : normally either the bed or the couch. he mutters soft praise whilst kissing your bare body! he loves the soppy moments after where its nothing but you two and hot, breathless kisses!
B = Body part (their favourite body part of their partner’s)
i dont think simon would have any part of you he favourites, yeah sure he loves your waist or your thighs. but he wouldnt say he prefers them over another part of you. he loves all of you differently. but if he had to pick? like answer or die? he would pick your waist/ lower stomach, he loves picking you up from your waist and just dropping you (carefully) down. youre so small compared to him and loves just man handling you!! he also likes it when youre on your period and your lower stomach kills, your cramps harming you and he uses his big warm hands as a hot water bottle!!
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he would cum on your tits most of the time, barley ever inside of you unless you have some sort of protection. he loves to see your perky nipples covers in his cum, hot sticky cum plastered all over the bite marks he leaves all over your tits!!
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
hes a switch, he loves when you take dominance but you know how far to go and what to not do. he would only let you top after a while of dating because of trust issues and trauma. but eventually you two chat and the first time be came so much the bedsheets were covered
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he doesnt fuck loads but hes not a virgin. hes had sex before he met you, but he would only shag unless he trusted them. he wouldnt really do hookups, he would do relationship. trusting relationships. he does know what to do and how he just likes easing up into it though.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
doesnt mind anything really aslong as the two lf you are comfortable. but he likes when you ride him a little more than all the rest, he loves gripping onto your waist to help you and guide your movements and he almost orgasms when he sees your sweaty face trying your hardest to fit his cock all in you. seeing the small bump on your lower stomach from where his dick is finally makes him shoot a load into you
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
depends on how hes feeling, he likes silly sex where you two are both laughing and soft deep breathes when he pushes inside of you. he makes cute little jokes that make you clench at how cute hes being and he knows how much you like it. yet he also likes when all he does is focus of getting you two to cum, especially after not cumming for a while or being apart for a bit.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)
hes one hairy ass motherfucker. he doesn't shave, he doesnt see a reason too. you dont really care so he doesnt either.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
will touch you everywhere, constantly all over you. touching your tits and rubbing your arse, you feel up his arms and his strong muscles. touching is the most important thing he thinks. he loves intimacy with you and you only.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
slow and steady wins the race. he jacks off normally to a thought of you or sometimes to a picture if hes really horny. hes quiet but sometimes if hes neglected that much he will whimper softly. small silent whimpers that only you will ever hear
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
praise, he likes when you praise him and he likes praising you. he loves the way your eyes light up when he tells you youre a good girl, he loves the way you mutter how well hes doing when kissing him.
restraints / bondage, but only of you. he likes the control and knowing whats happening, he loves seeing you squirm whilst youre tied up and he loves when you ask for it aswell. if you dont he feels weird like hes forcing you into something, but when you ask he instantly gets hard.
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
bed, he likes the comfort and how you two can just collapse onto eachother and hug. he will throw you, gently, onto the bed whilst laughing, mutter quiet dirty talk into your ear and you two will have a perfect night together!!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
seeing you with his clothes on turns his grinds. he loves seeing you take care of him and he lovesss seeing you after a shower. all wet with dripping hair, your smell filling his nose and your soft skin!! boner constantly!!
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
he doesnt really like cnc, after everythings hes been through he just wouldnt. it would remind him too much of the past. if you say stop or the safe word - he is off of you instantly and comforts you. even if you didnt mean to say stop, if its just a spur of the moment thing like you feel so fucking good and your just going to have orgasms after orgasms, so you say stop. he is off. he is checking on you and pulling out. he doesnt like feeling like hes forced you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
preferably both, he likes 69 and he likes feeling your clit on his tongue and he likes your mouth around his cock. so why not both at the same time? with his tongue - hes a fucking legend, he'll flick so quick at your clit making you cum all over his face!!
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
he likes to mix it up, honestly he could just cum as soon as he drags his dick into your sweet cunt but he will do it how ever you wanna <3
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
if you have somewhere to be and fast and you two just wanna then he will ofc but he prefers the slow and sensual sex than rushed.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
not with pregnancy, unless you two are sure and you two wanna have a baby than he will make sure to wear protection or if youre on the pill. just any protection. he wouldnt be open to threesomes, he likes you all to himself. you are his, not someone elses. he is okay with different kinks, trying out new stuff. unless its weird - obviously.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
normally around 2-3 rounds, he would go for ages until you cum at least twice. until you want enough really. obviously with his build and his stamina, he knows how to go for multiple times and without getting exhausted.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
prefers you over toys, if you arent there he wouldnt use toys. maybe a flesh light at most, but he would use his hands or fingers more. he would use them on you, vibrators are his favourite to use on you. he loves seeing you squirm as he holds you down with the vibrator pressed onto your clit, maybe tied up in the process. but yes he will use them on you!!
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
50/50, he would love to tease you but couldnt for ages due to how horny he is. he cant see you with your fluttering eyelashes while you moan out whilst pleading. begging him to touch you just sends blood rush down to his cock. he would for a bit but wouldnt for hours. maybe just a little before he fucks you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
small whimpers if hes feeling needy, like ive said before. he groans softly while fucking deep inside of you, he would grunt when you do something he likes. like a 'fuck, yes' grunt!!
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
isnt overally jealous, yeah he would get angry if someone tries to get with his girl but he wouldnt shag you infront of them or beat them up. he would just swiftly grab you and walk away with you, wrapping his arm around your waist. but if you have a guy friend or a guy best friend? he wouldnt care, he trusts you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
girthy, 6 inches, big vein on the left side and hes a grower!! almost 7 inches when hard.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
around the middle, he gets it on at night not much in the morning though. he can go for ages but he wouldnt constantly. he would rather have a little comforting hug then constant sex. just being close to you does it for him. he would whenever you wanna.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
almost instantly. hes one tired guy, he never really gets sleep so with you he can. he would get all comfortable next to you and kiss your forehead,
"come sleep now baby, yeah?" he mumbles whilst waiting for you to sleep, after youre sleeping then he will. first he needs to check youre okay and nothing can ever hurt you.
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