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twobluejeans · 9 months

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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 10: xoxo, barbie series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 10! i recommend listening to marjorie by taylor swift to this chapter so u feel the vibe.

TWITTER, july 19

INSTAGRAM, july 19

liked by camilamorrone, lewishamilton, and 6,348,164 others

yourinstagram just wrapped up the european leg of the Eras Tour, and my heart is bursting with gratitude and emotion. this journey has been an extraordinary one, and i couldn't have asked for a more incredible audience to share it with.

last night, we closed out this chapter in the city where my mother was born, and i have no words to express how special it was. the energy, the love, and the connection we shared in that moment made it the best show of my life.

to everyone who came out to the shows, sang along, danced, and created memories with us, thank you from the bottom of my heart. your passion and support have been the driving force behind every performance, and i’m endlessly grateful for the moments we've shared together.

this tour has been a journey of self-rediscovery and growth, and i’m so lucky to have such an amazing team by my side. the dedication, creativity, and hard work they've poured into every detail have made this experience truly magical.

as we move forward to the next leg of the tour, i carry with me the love and warmth of each city we've visited. your energy and enthusiasm have fueled my spirit, and i can't wait to see where the Eras Tour takes us next.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being a part of this adventure. let’s continue to make memories, share moments, and celebrate the magic of music together. here's to the journey ahead! 🦋🫧

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INSTAGRAM, july 20

yourstory 8h

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yourstory 8h

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INSTAGRAM, july 20

liked by landomybbgirl, f1ewis, and 612,122 others

enews click link in bio to read everything we know so far about the controversy that is y/n l/n’s and charles leclerc’s breakup.

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dutchverstappen_ n e ways…

ripy/nsferrariera CAUSE KARMA IS MY BFFFF

leclerc16ferrari i love charles but to say this isn’t well deserved would be lying 💀

INSTGRAM STORIES, july 20

yourstory 58m

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yourstory 28m

viewed by landonoriss, authurleclerc, and 643,183 others

TWITTER, july 20

INSTAGRAM july 21

liked by selenagomez, ana_d_armas, and 9,449,167 others

yourinstagram happy birthday to my guardian angel! today, as i celebrate another year of life, i can't help but remember the incredible woman who brought me into this world. we share the same birthday, and though you're not physically here with me, i feel your presence in every beat of my heart.it’s been 15 years since you left us, but your love, guidance, and beautiful spirit have never faded from my life. you were not just my mom; you were my best friend, my confidante, and my rock. losing you at the age of 12 was the most challenging thing i’ve ever faced, but i’ve carried your strength and love with me every step of the way.you were there for all my firsts - my first day of school, my first dance recital, my first guitar lesson. you taught me kindness, compassion, and the importance of staying true to myself. your unwavering support and belief in me still resonates deeply, even when life feels overwhelming. i often find myself looking up at the night sky, knowing that you're shining down as one of the brightest stars. your light continues to guide me, reminding me that no matter how tough life gets, i have your love to carry me through.so, here's to you, mom - the strongest, most beautiful soul i’ve ever known. thank you for being my guardian angel and for making every birthday feel like a celebration of your love and spirit.

wishing i could hug u one last time,

your y/n/n. 🤍

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fernandoalonso she’s watching over you and she’s so proud of how far you come. she’s by your side always, front row at all of your concerts. forever with you wherever you go, your guardian angel

bellahadid she’s so proud of u, babe. we all are 🖤

sabrinacarpenter happy birthday 💗

TWITTER, july 21

INSTAGRAM, july 21

liked by tchalamet, carlossainz, and 15,732,135 others

yourinstagram oh god, i’ve cried at least 3 times trying to type this so hopefully fourth times the charm.

as i take a moment to reflect on my unforgettable journey on the set of Barbie, my heart is overflowing with emotions. i can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the incredible opportunity i was given and the remarkable people who made it all possible.

to the extraordinary visionary, greta gerwing, thank you for trusting me with the role of Barbie and for guiding me through this artistic voyage. barbie played a big role in my life as a little girl, i adored every barbie film series and for you to chose me as you barbie is something i will always be in debt to you for. your passion and creativity was infectious, and i’m forever grateful for the chance to collaborate with such a talented director. the experience has left an indelible mark on my soul.

and to my lovely cast-mates, fellow Barbies, and Kens, you are the heart and soul of this film. each one of you brought a unique and irreplaceable energy to the set, and i in awe of your dedication and talent. together, we laughed, cried, and supported one another, creating a bond that will last a lifetime. thank you for being my rock on-screen and off-screen. you are my true stars. ⭐️

the memories we've made during the filming process will forever be etched in my heart. from the exhilarating moments of shooting magical scenes to the heartwarming conversations behind the scenes, every single second has been a treasure. the friendships that blossomed during this journey are the kind that go beyond the silver screen, and i feel incredibly blessed to have shared this chapter with each one of you.

i can't help but be proud of what we've created together. the love, effort, and dedication poured into Barbie shine through every frame. it’s my hope that this film will not only entertain but also inspire and touch the hearts of all who watch it. i want each person to experience the same excitement and joy that filled my heart while bringing Barbie to life.

thank you to the entire production team, crew members, and everyone behind the scenes for your tireless efforts in making this dream come true. your passion and commitment to the project have been awe-inspiring, and i’m forever grateful for your hard work and dedication. 🙏

so here's to Barbie and to all of you who made it an unforgettable adventure. let’s spread its magic far and wide, and may it bring joy and wonder to audiences around the world. thank you, from the depths of my heart, for being a part of this incredible journey. i love you all!

BARBIE is out now in theaters everywhere. 💕

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dualipa 🎀💞

fernandoalonso_offical Felicidades cariño, estoy increíblemente orgullosa de ti. Te extraño

sabrinacarpenter i’m sick of kens i need an alan

yourinstagram sabrinacarpenter agreed.

gretagerwing Fourth pic 🥹 my babies!! Love you Guys!!

americaferrira obsessed with you and your performance! can’t wait for everyone to see it

florencepugh IVE RETURNED A CHANGED WOMAN AFTER WATCHING BARBIE

y/nsreputation she’s in her barbie era

lolaransdell_fan33 am i the only one who thought ryan gosling was kinda too old to play ken? like the age difference between y/n and him is weird too💀

yourinstagram lolaransdell_fan33 he was and is kenough.

robertdowneyjr Proud of you, kiddo. Anyways, go watch Oppenheimer in theaters today 🖤💣

yourinstagram robertdowneyjr how do i pin this comment??

TWITTER, july 21

ally’s radio 📻: YASS WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!! what r our thoughts?

@incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #heartbreak on tour #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #charlesleclerc #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x platonic!reader #landó norris x platonic!reader #f1 instagram au #f1 wags #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #forumla one #taylor swift

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undercoverpena · 2 months

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a debt to pay

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: you surprise frankie by coming home earlier than planned, answering the door a-la-fake-porn like, making him drag you to your bedroom.

warnings: smut. established relationship. praise kink. minor (and I mean brief) hand necklace. dirty talk. okay, frankie likes to talk kink. cowgirl riding for iwd. and the pizza goes cold (felt it needed a warning) wordcount: 4.8k an: to the wonderful, amazing @morallyinept - happy international women's day! i hope frankie treating you right is what you had on your bucket list for the day. but if not, just know you inspire me, and i'm grateful for your friendship every day. and ily.

Nothing should surprise him.

He’s seen a lot. A thing some could argue is far too much. In some ways, they’re right.

Frankie isn’t sure people who weren’t doctors should know the exact hue of red that blood is—shouldn’t know the pain from a bullet grazing his shoulder, catching flesh and ruining cloth.

Still, he found himself continually surprised—especially the night he met you.

Falling into him, into his life. Disrupting his days from bleeding into the next, knocking things off their axis. Change should be scary, but it was all welcomed, just not in a way he’d ever thought he’d earned.

Somehow, amidst the chaos you brought with you, you also handed him harmony. You made the corners of his world slot together. Slowly, he even found himself anchoring down to brick and mortar, and calling it ‘home’ for the first time since he’d originally left his for battles and fighting.

In time, even as months became a year, your things found their way to be with his, Frankie had assumed he’d seen everything. Happy to accept it, the routine, the complacency. He looked forward to lazy Sunday mornings with his fingers inside yours, toes curling; Thursday nights in a bar, watching a line appear on your brow as you scoured your brain for an answer to the trivia question.

He liked it, adored it.

And then you opened the front door for him.

Flooding him in golden light that makes him squint, before he finds himself reminded, quickly, he hasn’t seen it all. Not even by a margin.

Because you're not supposed to be here, due back tomorrow.

Your voice on the phone earlier muted, low, "I miss you, Morales," as he stares at your untouched, clean mug on the kitchen counter.

Yet, here you stand. All veiled in barely anything except bits of lace and sheer, a sight his eyes aren't able to tear away from even if he tries. Not even the dryness in his throat or the warmth emanating from the pizza box he's holding (attempting to sear his skin to his palm) is bothering him.

"Bab—"

His words are cut short, ended.

"Oh," you gasp. “Let me take that; and how much do I owe you?”

On registering your words, his eyes narrow, staring.

Doing so from one eye to the next. It taking a while, brain firing, ticking over, taking precious seconds as he remains out in the cold and you stand in the warmth in barely fucking anything, before it dawns on him. Crawls up over him as realises what it is you’re pretending to do, what you're reenacting.

Lips lifting, curling into one of his cheeks he steps in through the doorway. Almost over the threshold, easily able to take another step and close the door behind him.

But he waits.

Fingers twitch at his side, Frankie swallows, eyes dropping, tracing up the bare backs of your thighs as you bend over. Because fuck, you're something beautiful. A thing he always thinks, but finds himself reminded in waves as they crash into him.

Raising his hand, he itches across his chin, scratching along the wiry hair there as his gaze drops to the thin fabric protecting the last bit of your modesty as you and the bits of lace spread across your ass—

“I only have card—unless, I can pay you in another way?”

This shouldn’t be real.

You, like this. Him, standing like this. Not even as he steps inside, eyes trained on you—forgetting what words even mean—as you bend over.

A low exhale escapes, lips remaining parted as he fights to place his palm on the back of your thigh—stops himself from hooking a finger in the band of your underwear and dragging it down your thighs, bending you over the sofa, and burying his—

“I would really like to pay you in some way.”

Your words are almost lost due to the way his pulse has quickened in his ears, thundering, pounding. Feeling nothing but discomfort as his cock hardens against the zip of his pants as you bite down on your lip.

Brain quiet, no thoughts, all rendered silent by your appearance. Only able to shift enough to discard his cap, his jacket—folding it over the back of the sofa, eyes drawing out over you as he takes a step closer. Fingers finding his wrist, pinching, making sure this isn't some dream he hasn't woken up from.

But he can smell the present. The glorious cheese and several toppings, even if devouring the pizza are long forgotten. Because his eyes are raking over you, because how could he not—especially now as you straighten up, softly wiggling your hips.

"Is that so?” his voice rough, words catching. Letters clagging at the back of his teeth as though they attempted to glue to his mouth.

He's aware the three words are stained with want—a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you turn to face him, knowing it too.

But then, you always do know. Having long figured him out.

Like always, your eyes meet his in a way he can never explain, no words to articulate, to explain—just shared understanding dancing between the two of you.

“It’s only right,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fingers reaching out to trace his wire-stubbled jawline. “It’s bad of me to order food and not have the money to pay.”

He catches your wrist, gently but firmly. Pulling you close, steadying you with the other at your waist. Hearing it, the gasp, the briefest of indications you'd been caught by surprise, as he brushes his fingers against the fabric, all unable to stop themself. Half-needing to know what it feels like, as his thumb smooths out, taking his time—forcing the tension to buzz in the air as he leans closer. The distance you small, minimal—almost non-existent—as his breath hitches in his throat.

“You know what you’re getting into?” his voice a low growl, strained.

His gaze locked on you, watching you bite on your lower lip. “I really don’t like being in debt.”

It’s low, the way he replies. Short, two words: okay baby, before he’s leading, guiding, pecking kisses on your lips that likely leave you disorientated. It thrumming in his veins, the fact he gets to undo you, peel off the thin fabric you’ve likely had stuffed at the back of the closet—or even purchased with him in mind on your trip, thighs pressed together, wondering, finger and thumb stroking it as you imagine if he'd rip it off or slowly slide it from you.

He's not sure himself.

A part of him wishes to snap it from your frame in front of open blinds and undrawn curtains. To place his palm on your ass and taste your gasp on his tongue.

But another, the part which has missed you, wishes to wait. Make you wait. Wants to drag it out as long as humanly possible, have you soaked, wet, needy and desperate.

Because Frankie wonders if you've imagined this. Or, if you plotted it or it came to you randomly.

He gets an answer to it when the two of you are behind another door—one more private, intimate.

And it feels different in the bedroom than it did out in the living room.

The lighting being one of the reasons.

In here, you had opted for a darker shade when you’d both redecorated. Told him you preferred it, and had given him a shrug and a smile as you did. It had been a while later when he’d learned it was for him. For his eyes, for the sleep he struggled to grasp. It’ll help, I think? Saying it to him as though it wasn’t the kindest fucking thing someone had done for him.

But then, you are a waking dream.

A thing which has shaped itself and made itself real right before his eyes. Sculpted yourself from wishes and wants, shaping until you’re nothing but tangible and real.

He’s not afraid to tell you that either. Spends hours whispering it into your skin, pressing it close to your ear, repeating it over and over what perfection you are as you look at him with lust-blown eyes and lips parted around his name.

Frankie doubts it’s enough.

Least of all now, when you’re painted in soft white light, all gentle in how it rolls over you, as it becomes clear you’ve been home for a while.

You've drawn the blackout curtains—keeping out the evening—and you'd flicked the little bedside lamp on, doing its best to illuminate the room.

Swallowing, he traces his teeth over his tongue, wondering if you watched him reverse off the drive as you waited to make your move. Wondering if you're snuck in, trying not to disturb—dress yourself up, even if you never need to.

Because you’re a vision always.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even angry because he's left his tools out or with disappointment etched into your eyes because he’s forgotten something, you’re radiant, a goddess on earth.

A thing he finds himself reminded of as he steps closer to you. Fingers fiddling at his side as begins to close the small gap.

If not for the way he’s looking at you, he might have missed the shiver running through you from anticipation—and he knows it because of his action, due to the hungry look he's sure he's sporting as he raises his hands to remove his outer shirt. Balling it up, throwing it, a thing already unremembered before it even leaves his fingers.

"Frankie..."

"I know, just keep your eyes on me."

And you do, ever obedient. A thing no one would believe him off outside of these four walls. Not when you hold yourself strong and are quick to bite back, all wit and quick-thinking in addition to your brains and beauty.

He hooks a finger under the edge of his t-shirt, dragging it up over his head as he hears it—that little hiss, that slight gasp you do as though you’ve not seen him topless a thousand times.

It feels good. Makes heat rise up his neck and flood his ears. For a moment, he forgets he’s not all that. Because he’s soft, a little thicker around the middle, it feels like a lifetime ago he was trained in combat. But the way you look at him makes him feel like that is the furthest thing from the truth.

Fuck, you make him hard. Make him want. Have done since the moment you’d given him half a chance.

It’s why he's quick to pull you close, desperate to slant his mouth over yours. All fiery, hungry. Aiming to claim and write out all the ways he’s thought of you in the days since you’d been away. How the hours of you being gone and the amount he’s missed you have all balled up into a thing that is now fuelling him—sketching his wishes and desires across your lips, against your tongue, burying them past your teeth so they sit in your throat.

He grasps. Likely leaves marks of it on the perfect skin that covers your waist—because his palm is calloused and worn. Reminders of holding things not half as soft as you. A flicker of guilt almost bubbles in his, as he moves to rest it on your cheek, cradling your jaw and ear in one hand, as he slides the other up your back.

You whimper against his teeth before fingers find the clasp—finger and thumb, pinging it open before he feels fabric scrape against him—then you moan.

His chest being greeted with nothing but warm, smooth bare skin—nipples pebbling in the cooler air before being pressed against him, before he cups the swell of one, thumb stroking, playing a pattern.

“Do this for all the deliveries you get?”

You snort, it blowing out in a breath. “Only the ones with packages I like.”

In the time you’ve been together, you’ve said worse, but this time makes cock harden more than it already is. It's almost uncomfortable, in how it presses against his zipper, wishing to be released, as his index and thumb stroke over your skin. Taking it on how warm you are, how impossibly soft—distantly feeling the tremors from your heart hammering into your ribs.

"Too good for me, you are." You hum, as he seals his mouth back over yours. “But, I don’t take card.”

Purposefully, he drops his hand, fingers dipping, tracing across the lace that covers your slit—finding damp fabric as his ears take in the note of a quiet escape leaving your lips. It trying to bury itself between your two mouths open, breathing it in.

“Guess you’ll have to swipe something else.”

He snorts, and buries it into your neck, teeth grazing your skin—nose catching the scent of your perfume. And the scent almost makes him dizzy from how his blood rushes south. How the moment he’d dropped you off for your flight, it had lingered in the cabin of his truck. Remaining there for the first few days you were gone, before slowly fading. Leaving.

Just there on the coat you'd hung near the door and the pillows he slept beside.

The ones he rested his head against when he’d heard your voice down the phone, tell me to touch myself, Frankie, I need you. His own hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it as you moaned his name, all those miles away, dripping instructions into your ear.

“You're such a dirty girl.”

You grin in response, fingers tugging at his curls—urging his mouth back to yours.

But, he instead traces his tongue over your pulse, circling it, all defiant in bowing to you as his teeth trace over his path. Instead, his finger dips, traces the crease of your thigh with his gaze never leaving yours.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

His hand slides between your thighs, cupping you—feeling the discernible wetness soaked through.

“Can feel it.”

You scoff, but he kisses it away.

Doing so in a similar way to how he makes you forget, how he pulls you from your mind and brings you to the present. It’s also swallowed by another gasp, one made because of his fingers finding the edge of the lace, hooking a finger underneath, sliding the pad of his thumb against your swollen nerves and slick entrance.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the whine you emit. “Feelin’ needy, querida?”

And he can’t take his eyes off you.

Practically locked in, watching as your lips part, and your hips try to shift for more friction. He’s too fearful he’ll miss it, all of it—a slight curve of a brow or a shimmer on your eyes. All things he thinks over when he dreams, when he wishes for replays of moments until the next day when he makes another that easily replaces a good one.

He likes how you say his name when he slips another finger inside you—how it falls all soft, breathless. So much intention in such a low sound. Even as you squirm, mouth pausing over his; little mewls and moans falling as he drags them in and out, all languorous, teasing.

“Want you.”

His thumb brushes over your swollen clit, a hiss escaping. “I know.”

You gasp his name, stifle a moan, teeth biting down on the underside of your lower lip as your lashes flutter. It’s your nails digging into his scalp that keeps him rooted, that keeps him focused—precise touches and strokes that have you rocking against him and keep him tuned in to you.

“Missed how you sound, baby. You're doing so well.”

You’re close. His words make your perfect pussy clench around him. A chorus of moans escaping as he curls them inside of you, finds that spot, the one which makes you babble and turns your muscles into liquid.

He likes that he can do this.

That he can read you and undo you. That it’s a thing he’s mastered when he’d thought he was far from learning. But then, he’d taken great pride in spending hours studying—in alternating between being on his back and on his knees.

And because of that, he knows when he halt you over the edge. Let you linger, not tipping.

Normally, he’d never tease, never make you want—but, today is a different kind of day as he stops. As he retracts his fingers and allows the fabric to lightly snap back into place.

It’s a different whine that cuts into the room then. It pours out from your lips as your eyes dig daggers into him—but, he knows you.

Knows it’s momentary and nothing he can’t fix. Able to hold his ground against it, digging heels into the floor—all refusing to be swayed by the storm rising inside of you, creeping across the formerly tranquil sea. Instead, his hands move to his belt—undoing it, metal clanging and zip sliding down as your eyes break from glaring to stare hungrily at the outline of his cock.

Watching as you walk backwards, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you’re perching—eyes holding his, tip of your tongue sweeping, tracing, as you move further up the bed. The one you’d picked—chosen.

He’s in a trance.

Under a spell when you hook a thumb on either side of your underwear.

It’s not smooth, it doesn’t glide or remove with ease—there’s even a slight kick out of your legs before it flings from your ankle. But, it makes him tighten the hold on his cock. Because it may not be a thing people ever see on TV or in movies, but then they never feel like this.

They don’t feel real, no rawness, no tangling of his trousers he has to step out of as he strokes himself, eyes flicking down to where you’re bare—where you’re glistening—

“Wanna ride you, Frank.”

He sucks in a shuddering breath, hands gripping the base of his cock.

It’s slow, the way he grazes his teeth over his lower lip. “S’that how you wanna pay me, yeah?”

“All I’ve thought about,” you reply, a soft smile greeting him. “Lemme ride you—wanna look at you, wanna watch you come, baby.”

Fuck. He doesn’t fight it.

Instead, letting you guide him, allowing you to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw when he kneels on the bed and groans—because it’s been a long day, querida; he’s not as young as he once was.

“Still know how to be good, though. Don’t you?” you smirk, open mouth leaving a trail down his neck, eyes flicking up when you leave one in the space above his heart.

Hands behind his head, admiring, doing nothing but watching you place your thighs on either side of his as your fingers wrap around his wrists. You pin him, pressing down—aching cock ignored, left to leak against his hip as your lips press to his, over and over, and over until he’s chasing for the feel of them when you pull back.

You only offer a gentle, "I missed you," against the air before you're lining him up, bearing down, sinking, taking him in as he paints a groan against your collarbone.

There’s a beat, maybe two.

Stillness, enveloped entirely by your walls as his mouth wraps itself around your breast, leaving it wet, coated in spit as he groans when you begin to move. Setting a rhythm, slow.

“Not rushing this, Frankie.”

He never wishes you to.

His hands gripping your hips, guiding you. Head falling back onto the sheets as his breath hitches, the sight of you atop him, breasts bouncing—owning him—is a sight he could never grow tired of. One he also never feels worthy of—but he won’t squander, won’t ruin.

Because you’re perfect, head to toe—pussy made for him as it strokes up and down and breaths leave your mouth in short pants.

“Y’so good to me, Frankie. So handsome.”

And he wants to tell you that it's you who is so good—who is nothing but colour in an otherwise grey world. That you’re sunshine and stars, moon and so much more goodness than he can list buried inside of you.

“Go on, querida,” he grunts through clenched teeth, hands squeezing your hips a little tighter as you move a little faster.

As you take a little more. It makes your eyes flutter, parts your lips—watching in nothing short of awe as you use him, as you lose yourself in the moment.

"That's it, just let go. Make yourself feel good.”

It’s something majestic when he sees you nearing release—when he feels you clench and flutter.

“Feels good, y’feel good inside me baby.”

“You need more?”

And you nod.

The green light—the sign—and he doesn’t wait a moment.

Just canting his hips up, making a rush of pleasure spread up his spine. He’s lightheaded, hot—practically dizzy with how good you feel enveloped around him.

The noises filling the air, your slick walls taking him and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It’s drowned by the noises he pulls from you, making a mess of you as your lust-blown eyes land on him.

It almost steals his breath. Thieves it.

Because you’re so pretty, wild—a fucking dream on top of him. All soft and shimmering with perspiration from how good you ride him as he’s bathed in whines, moans and cries of his name.

“You're perfect,” he says, hand clamping on your hip as he shifts, and angles himself before thrusting up into you—watching your eyes squeeze shut. “From your smile to your tight pussy. You know that?”

Studying you as you try to keep the same rhythm. But, you’re nearing your climax—nails digging into his shoulder and neck, half-moons etched there, and he hopes they take hours to disappear.

“Thought about you all week—”

You moan, eyes meeting his. “Thought about you too—missed you. Missed how good you make me feel.”

“Fucked my fist to the thought of you like this. Never thought—fuck—I’d come home to this, baby. Y’fuckin’ perfect.”

Your chin lifts, neck elongating as he spreads his palm across your side, fingers pressing, grasping.

“Love hearing how much you missed me,” he smirks, watching you—thinking nothing but revolving thoughts as to how pretty you look, what a picture you are on top of him—

Then he hears a slam. Heavy boots. A voice he'd rather not hear at all:

“Fish? You home?”

He stops, realisation slamming into him.

A hand drops to the bedsheets, grasping them so hard his knuckles pale, and throb—the bones in his hand aching as he fights shouting and blowing his load right there and then.

The plans he’d made—the ones he’d put into place because you weren’t supposed to be home—all coming back to bite him. How he hadn’t wanted to spend another night alone, another evening in front of the television until you could call and tell him about your day—when he should have. He really fucking should have.

And you’re frozen, hips halted in place—his other hand remaining on your waist, fingers digging in as you both tense, keeping movements paused.

He considers it, the two choices he has and decides.

Leaning more against you—half-grinning, whispering shh as you look at him full of alarm—suddenly aware of the impending actuality that you could be caught like this.

And, then you clench around him. He feels it. Head tilting and eyes narrowing as he takes you in.

"Dirty girl," he mouths, and you look bashful, shy—a look he rarely sees when you’re split open on his cock and the base of him is covered in your slick.

“Fish, where the fuck are you?”

“Getting changed Ben, be a min.”

Your pussy flutters around him at your shout, as he moves to not shout the words towards your ear—feeling you clamp down, muffling a whimper. Another falls as he lifts up further onto his palm, dragging his nose down the valley between your breasts.

He knows you’re close—teetering, a few more thrusts and you’d have unravelled.

Dropping his voice, low—barely above a whisper, “Shh, baby. Or, I won’t let you finish.”

“Fuck,” you hiss. “Can‘t, Frankie—I can’t.”

He nods, finger and thumb holding your chin because he knows you can. Seen you do so much, and been witness to what you’re capable of—before his hand guides your hips to begin moving, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hips.

“Touch yourself for me, querida. Be good for me.”

And you whimper, something akin to his name.

But he’s guiding his mouth away, shouting, “Beers in the fridge, Ben.”

His mouth presses to your chest, hearing the shout from his friend back, but it’s the sound of your fingers on your slick and swollen clit that he tunes into. That he wants to flood his ears. Watching you shiver, shake, tremble from it as you tighten around him, choking his cock as he begins to thrust in and out.

He could keep you here. Should do too.

One week has already been too long. A need to make up for it—to have you pay for all the times you ask him those questions you wait until the lights are usually out for and he’s about to tip over to sleep; have you press yourself against him, nudging your ass into him as you cuddle, but really you want his mouth between your thighs. He should edge you, hang you over the edge of pleasure and watch your eyes dig into him until your lips whisper the word beginning with P.

But he won’t.

Couldn’t.

He likes knowing he pleases you too much.

Your moan bringing him back to it. Seeing how your eyes are clenched shut, trying to keep it behind your teeth. Failing, expletives dropping in breaths before he raises his hand, pressing it to your mouth, muffling it, the moans you have to release before you shake your head and fold into him.

Suddenly, he wants to move the dresser and lock the two of you in here. Wants to let them watch whatever fucking sports they want out there, and him just watch you in here.

You’re his favourite sight, after all. Especially like this. Free, not overthinking or worrying, just present, feeling as good as you should—as good as he always wants you to feel.

And you deserve this.

Hearing the low please fall before he plants his feet down, angling his cock up into you as you let out a muffled gasp. His palm flat to your shoulder, steadying you, as he feels your fingers slide it to your collarbone, resting it, fingers an inch away from the base of your neck.

You flick your eyes open—smothering him in permission, in radiant sunshine and lust, before the softest fucking smirk graces your lips—as his own mouth chokes out your name.

“Not tonight.”

It’s less words, and more a noise.

Because he’s close too—it having risen close to the top. Toes clenched around the sheets, digging in.

But he wants to feel you come first. And it’s there—that familiar sign. Lashes fluttering, gorgeous mouth going tight, slack as you tighten around him, locking up, clamping down as your hips move sloppily and out of rhythm.

You’re so fucking close.

“Shh, be good for me.”

Fingers, trembling and weak, slide around the base of his neck, tugging on his curls that are likely slick with sweat.

“N‘gonna last—let go for me baby.”

“Please.”

“Come for me.”

Spearing up into you with more vigour as you rasp, groan, and hiss—spit coating his fingers as he slides them out, dropping his hand from you as his knuckles press to the mattress as he fucks up into you.

Your body bucks, a cry you bury into his neck—a drag of nails against his scalp—as you come undone around him. Convulsing. Muffled cries vibrating against his pulse.

Frankie is barely able to contain the low growl as his hips stutter—heat raging through him, joined by rabid electricity. It sparking, ripping through, making him both ache and feel alive.

The sight of you and the feel of you drives him to the edge—and then over. A grip on your hip all tight as he thrusts into you one final time, unable to contain the growl. His chest heaves as he spills inside of you, and you tremble against him—panting, all messy and boneless as he pulls you with him as he rolls onto his back.

"You're incredible," he breathes into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

You let out a small laugh, a soft, content sigh escaping your lips. "So are you."

He smiles against your skin, his heart swelling with affection. He may have assumed he'd seen everything, but you—you continue to surprise him, to captivate him in ways he never thought possible. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Pulling his mouth from yours, feeling you ease him out of you, his hand lightly slaps you on the back of your bare ass.

"I missed you, querida," he murmurs, heart still racing in his chest.

Meeting his gaze, your lips purse. "I know," you whisper, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "I'm here now."

“Shame you’ll have to sneak out the back and come in through the front door. Otherwise, you’ll be in here all night—”

His words trail off, a sly grin tugging at his lips as it dawns, rises up over your face and makes your mouth fall open. “Francisco….”

“Shoulda' told me you were coming home. It's boys night.”

Narrowing your eyes, you tick your jaw—spine straightening. “Well, I could stay in here—like this…”

Smirking, he kisses your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.”

Your mouth opens, a smirk gracing his lips in response as he raises a finger to his mouth, moving and pressing a kiss to your knee. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales smut #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #frankie morales x reader smut

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verinarin · 4 months

Text

In which he helps his dearest friend to study anatomy by using his own body-

Friends to Lovers fluff ! | Wrote just because of this veil panel-

I would try to make this as anatomically accurate as possible with limited knowledge of the human anatomy (о´∀`о)

C.AI bot version ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

The idea of having his whole arm on your lap never crossed your mind, after being friends with this narcissistic asshole for 5 years never in a million years you thought you’ll be in this position. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to reveal his forearm for you, resting it slightly on your lap, inadvertently tensing the muscles to keep it from fully weighing down your lap

“This is not what I meant by helping me study for my anatomy exams Veritas,” you sigh, trying to act composed while your best friend’s face is right beside you

“I have observed for a while that you’re more likely to fully commit things to memory when you learned it by hands-on experience, the test I gave you two months ago shows that you are more suitable in Kinesthetic learning methods,” he replies in full confidence

You can’t help but agree, you do find it easier to understand concepts or remember things if you experience it or learn it with a physical medium, so here you are tracing your fingers through his veins, trying to remember what that specific nerve is called

“You’re touching my cephalic vein, it’s the most prominent vein you could see and feel on the forearm,” he suddenly leans forward and guides your fingers from the back of his hand slowly tracing the vein until it reaches his elbow, you could feel his blood coursing through his arms as he keeps your fingers still on the vein

“You see this vein would continue further up, but I’m afraid I could only roll my sleeves this far up since my biceps are too firm,” he bashfully continues as he unbuttoned the collar of the shirt, feeling a sudden increase in the room temperature

“Oh okay,” you reply shortly, what the hell is wrong with you, you have never been this shy with him before, and you can’t help but try to gain back your composure and confidence by asking another question

“So these umm rather wide muscles consist of two parts right ?,” you ask, your hands holding his forearm, perhaps the word hugging would be better suited because of how large his forearm is compared to your hands

You could hear his breath slightly hitch as you rested your hand on his forearm, “Yes the one that you’re resting your left hand on is the Flexor-pronator muscle while the one on your right is the Flexor carpi ulnaris muscle,”

“Oh so this one is Flexor carpi ulnaris ?,” you mindlessly squeeze your right hand, you knew that Veritas regularly trains his body, but you never actually feel the firmness of his muscles, so like a fascinated moron you start to gently squeeze the muscle in amazement, making him laugh in return

“Yes that’s right but you don’t need to keep squeezing the muscle, it’s quite tense now because I don’t want to put the full weight of it on your lap,” he chuckles, but now you’re curious about just how heavy his forearm is, you look at him with a sudden determination in your eyes

He of course knew what you meant by that look and your face and the small nods you made, he sighs before relaxing his muscles, now the full weight of his forearm rests on your lap and Aeons! it’s heavy

“You feel what I mean now ?,” he scoffs, his forearm still resting it full weight on your lap, it’s like he’s teaching you a lesson to not do such a foolish idea ever again

“Alright yes yes loud and clear please lift back up,” you whine as you struggle to push his forearm out of your lap, he laughs before tensing back his muscles and slightly resting his weight on your lap

“So is there any particular muscle you want to further examine ?, I’ve been told that my upper body in particular is quite the sight to study upon,” he asks as you twist his forearm to inspect the Flexor-pronator muscle better

You subconsciously gripped his arm tighter when he told you, “Okay first of all you’ve done this with someone else ??!, second of all are you implying that I could examine your abs ??!!!,”

“First of all you’re the first and the only person I’ll permit to touch me like this, second of all yes I am open for you to examine further parts of myself,” he replies calmly like he had not just given you a green light to examine his sculpted body

You can’t help but let your mouth agape, I mean it is beneficial for you to have this life-sized toned human mannequin to use to study but really, your best friend.

Your annoyingly attractive and narcissistic best friend !

“And also you look rather cute when jealous, but yes someone did ask me to help them study anatomy with my body but I declined it was a foolish idea, but the idea itself is interesting for another reason so I made it applicable to only you,” he continues to talk, which makes your face redder than before

“Why me ?,” you ask, your face so soft that Veritas needs to lean slightly forward, until your shoulder touches his own

“Because I trust you and perhaps this is all just an elaborate ruse to make you flustered over my body but perhaps it is not,” he whispers beside your ear, he speaks like it is a confession of the heart

“You fucking jerk !,” you mutter as you cover your face fully with your hands, his ruse works perfectly. He chuckles before dragging your hands away from your face so he can see your flustered expression

“But at least you could now remember the materials you wanted to study right ?,” he smirks right in front of your face

“NO! IN THE MIDDLE OF MY EXAMS I’LL BE THINKING OF THIS EXACT MOMENT !!!,” you yell as you try to cover your face back, sadly he wouldn’t let you do that

“Ah I don’t know whether or not to feel sorry or happy by the fact that you’ll think of me throughout that exam,” he tease, leaning forward to meet your eyes

“You should feel bad !!” you pout as you lightly punch his chest, he just laughs boisterously, which makes you more annoyed than before

“Ah yes I apologise,” he smirks as he ruffles your hair, covering the pout on your face that he loves so much, the progress he makes to slowly win your heart seems to bear into fruition

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio #dr. ratio x reader #dr. ratio fluff

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alexisomnias · 1 year

Text

WHEN YOUR GONE. . . | obey me

obey me nightbringer spoilers

characters | BROTHERS

they return home, a sunken feeling moving along with them as their home feels much more empty. Despite the attendant never living with them, it feels as if a room lost its shine that kept the home lifted. they go to the bedroom to mourn for the loss of a friend who they've known for no longer then a week (yet it feels like years).

LUCIFER "Hopefully you found me helpful from time to time? Don't push yourself too hard "big brother."

lucifer finds himself staring at your writing, it was clearly handled with care, perhaps even written with a shaky hand. he finds himself doing nothing other then staring, he can't even reread it as if his throat was choked up for good. lucifer, who thought your position as attendant was nothing other then stupid found his heart slow to if he didn't know better would be a stop. he did... he did find you helpful... his eyes close as he leans his head back and takes a deep breath, as if to stop tears.

why must you of done this too him? why couldn't you just leave with a goodbye that he would forget come hundreds year?

MAMMON "Thank you for always thinking of me. I always had fun when we were together."

mammon prided himself in his ability to hold his emotions, but after his eyes came across the last letter, reading each syllable as if it was his first time he lets out a sob. clutching the letter in his hand as if all of you would disappear if he ever let it go. you were cruel, he thinks, so cruel for leaving him alone like this. he sobs quietly leant over the desk as he sobs into his arms, why did he always get attached to things that would soon leave him? you don't realize, that even after your gone. your memories, even the happiest ones will leave him thinking of you as left pain.

his heart aches for you already, he wants to continue to be together, he wants you back.

LEVIATHAN "Make sure to take good care of Snake, okay? I know you'll make an amazing demon !!"

it took a lot for leviathan to even build up the courage to exit the comfort of his own room. without you there by his side, what will be there to help him navigate around? you've been barely gone for 3 days and yet it feels as if you've been missing from his side for centuries. curse him for getting attached, curse the universe for making you the friend that leaves for his own character development. he sniffles, rereading the text over and over. he let out an ugly cry, uncaring for if the world outside saw it.

how could he be the amazing demon you claim him to be, without you by his side to reassure?

SATAN "Someday we should both go bookstore hopping! You're fine just the way you are Satan."

he doesn't know why you left, but dear lord is he so angry. at the world, at his brothers for allowing you to leave, at himself for not being there to tell you he needs you. satan doesn't cry, satan doesn't even rage out in anger as he reads your letter. he stares, and he stares until a figurative hole could be burnt through the crisp paper left in your place. the only memory left of you for you weren't there for long. why couldn't he be there to see you leave? send you off? why was he the one stuck under the impression you would come back for him, until you didn't?

did you even realize that you were the reason he felt like he belonged in this world?

ASMODEUS "Looking forward to the next Asmo Night! I love you! more then words can say!

asmo loves you more then words exist, thats why he needs you by his side, thats why he needs you there to remind him of why he's deserving, of why he deserves to be happy like the others. asmo needs you more then words can say, he lets out a quiet cry, almost silent as tears drip down his porcelain face. clutching his own note close to his body. why did you have to leave so early? why did you have to leave him so abruptly after carving your place in his heart?

he trusts in the fact that you will return, maybe its denial, or trust, but he believes you'll be back for him.

BEELZEBUB "Be careful not to eat too much! Keep your brothers safe, okay?"

beelzebub did not cry, but he did mourn. how could he always lose those he grows to care for? all in such a short time? he swears he would starve if it meant you'd come back, he'd never complain about hunger again if you'd be back to tell him off, back to make him breakfast out of food he's unfamiliar with. he clutches the note strong enough that if he tried it would rip, but he'd never destroy a memory of you.

beel wants to keep his family safe, but as their attendant, that includes you, he wants you safe as well.

BELPHEGOR "Someday I'll buy you the ultimate alarm clock. I adore that happy look you have while asleep."

Belphegor was the last of the brothers to visit your room, as if he contemplated for days of whether it would be a good idea. belphie despised humans, and you being a human would of included that, wouldn't it? but yet, he can't find himself to hate you. you helped him, helped beel instead of hurt. all the other notes were gone, so the sole one laid upon your empty desk. he stared down on it, in a slow process, his stone face crumpled, melted into tears as it dripped onto he page. his hands clenched up as he cried. falling to his knees as he allowed himself to sob against the desk. your letter lying dead in front of him.

did he really need an alarm clock when his attendant was there to wish him a good morning?

#obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #angst #obey me angst #obey me nightbringer spoilers #suns pencil.

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luv4freddie · 4 months

Text

Aerophobia (fear of flying)

Your fear of flying had kept you off a broom ever since first year, but dating Oliver Wood was bound to fix that. 575 words, fluffy mini story

“Please doll?”

You’d been very adamant about one thing in your time at Hogwarts, and it was that you would not be getting on a broom.

Your first year flying lessons had been a very unfortunate experience, with the amount of falling and bumping into other students you did it was a miracle they even let you finish the class.

And ever since then you’d sworn off getting on one of those cursed cleaning tools.

A relatively easy ban, until you ended up dating Oliver Wood— someone who might actually spend more time on his broom than on his feet.

One thing led to another, and now here you are, with your boyfriend giving you his pretty puppy eyes and a broom hovering next to him.

“I told you-”

“I know,” he says, familiar with your objections, “but your wonderful boyfriend is here and he’s an amazing flyer and he promises to not let you fall off.”

“He’s also talking in third person, which is weird,” you mumble.

Oliver laughs, but he recognizes that you’ve given up.

He holds the broom horizontally and lets you climb on, before climbing on behind you.

He’s reaching around you to hold his hands in front of you so that you’re trapped, his arms acting like the bumper rails you’ve seen at muggle bowling alleys.

“Relax,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Just go before I change my mind.” You state, gritting your teeth in nervousness.

He lets out another chuckle but kicks off anyway, and you screw your eyes shut as a gust of wind hits you in the face.

The broom stabilizes in the air, and you wait to feel him take off zooming, but he never does.

You cautiously open one eye, squinting around at your surroundings.

You’re hovering about ten feet in the air— not moving.

“Ollie?” You have to speak up to be heard, as you’re too scared of shifting the broom to turn his way.

“Yes love?”

“Why aren’t we moving?”

“Do you want to?”

“I just thought you would.” You risk the small movement of shrugging your shoulders, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.

“I’ll move, but you can’t close your eyes, deal?”

“I don’t know…”

He lifts one of his hands off the broom to offer his pinky to you, but you let out a squeal, leaning your back further into his chest.

“Oliver Wood you put your hand back on this broom right now!”

He laughs, “make the deal then.”

You let out a groan, still pushing further into him, and decide that anything is better than falling off the broom.

“Fine. Deal. I’m not moving my hand though.”

He places his hand back on the broom in front of you, at the same time placing a kiss on your cheekbone.

“Good answer.”

You brace for the broom to take off, clutching the handle tighter but keeping your part of the deal up— your eyes stay trained directly in front of you.

Oliver moves one hand further up and the broom gives a small lurch forward.

You hear him laugh at the squeal you let out, but you’re moving much slower and less aggressively than Oliver usually is on his broom, and your fear starts to drain as he continues to gently move the broom forward.

“Look, you can see the courtyard over there,” his voice is calm in your ears, and you excitedly look over.

“I see it! Look! Do you think that’s Fred and George?” You question, pointing to your left at two ant sized figures with red hair.

“Might be.” He hums, trying not to point out your sudden confidence as your hand moves again, pointing at something else.

Five minutes later and you’re back on solid ground, Oliver helping you off the broom with a satisfied grin on his face.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” He teases.

“I guess not,” you concede, popping up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s that for?” He asks, although he’s already got a smug smile on his face.

“For taking such good care of me.”

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers and placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles while leading you back to the castle, his other hand holding the broom.

“I’ll always take care of you.”

#oliver wood drabble #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood scenarios #harry potter scenarios #oliver wood fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter boys #golden trio era

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calumcxke · 9 months

Text

COME OVER AND LOVE ME

basketball player!taehyun x fem reader

genre: best friends to lovers, slight idiots to lovers, fluff, slight angst

word count: 5.2k

summary: after mulling over taehyun for years, am oppurtunity to confess your feelings presents itself, but things take a bad turn

warnings: kissing?, mature language, beomgyu's kinda a menace, real teenage romance movie vibes, not rlly proofread

notes: for my bestie @bluetyunhour ,, <3 also my first time ever actually posting a fanfic,, im scared lol

♫: playlist

you loved taehyun.

he was your best friend, and had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. he was your comfort, your safe space, and just an amazing person.

your wide-eyed, curious best friend.

you weren’t aware when- but your feelings for him changed. all of a sudden, he wasn’t just your best friend, he was someone you wanted to be something more with.

maybe it was when he joined the basketball team sophomore year. noticing just how fit your best friend really was.

you would catch yourself blushing when he said something, blood rushing into your cheeks at his little comments. mundane classes were now filled with excitement simply because he was there.

you didn’t know if he had notices the change/ you hoped he hadn’t noticed the change. the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship with taehyun because you couldn’t control the way your heart felt.

you tried desperately to push all the feelings down, trying your hardest to not let taehyun’s heart-stopping antics effect you.

it seemed as though it was all in vain. no matter how hard you pushed, buried, drowned your feelings out- they just because stronger.

you had tried to distance yourself, telling taehyun you were “too busy” or had “too much homework”. little excuses that were believable!

taehyun was too nice though. moving his schedule around so he could make time to hang out with you, even skipping practice one day so he could stay in your house and watch a movie sprawled out on the couch with you.

you had no escape from him, and although you were desperately trying to find an escape from being near him so often, being suffocated by his presence everywhere you went because everything reminded you of him- you knew you couldn’t be without him.

you desiderated to be with him. you wanted nothing more than to call him yours.

“you’re gonna be rooting for me tonight, yeah?”, taehyun’s voice sounded behind you, making you jump slightly from his sudden appearance.

“of course i am, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn’t?”, you spun around to look at him, trying to keep a calm composure as you took in his outfit.

his black hair framed his face perfectly, a white polo adorning his top, with a navy blue crewneck overtop, khaki shorts on, showing off his long legs.

he knew how to style himself, and you knew he knew he looked good. he smiled softly at you, before stepping forward and pulling you into a hug.

he breathed out a sigh, his chin resting on the top of your head, “what would i do without you?”

you felt suffocated. everything about him was suffocating. his cologne was filling your senses, his strong arms holding you against him.

“you’d die without me, obviously.”

you felt his laugh rumble in his chest, his telltale giggle leaving his lips. he moved his head back to look down at you, everything felt entirely too intimate for you.

“y/n…”, his voice trailed off a bit, eyebrows furrowing a bit as he looked like he was trying to collect the words he wanted to use in his mind.

“yes?”

“do you maybe want-“

“taehyun!”

a voice coming from the entrance made both your beads turn, taking the chance to untangle yourself from taehyun’s arms, smiling awkwardly at beomgyu, who had walked in.

“i’m gonna go, i’ll see you guys later?”, you excused yourself quietly, waving at the two boys before heading out of the room, not missing the way beomgyu sent you a sly smile, feeling as though a brick was lifted off your chest the second you made it out.

you could only yearn for taehyun from the sidelines of your heart, never fully being able to tell him just how you felt, never even being able to hint at it, holding all your love and admiration for him in a special place in your heart, keeping it protected so you could never be let down.

over time, you feared your facade was breaking down, your love for taehyun shining through for your best friend's eyes, but never for his. it was as though it was invisible to him, something everyone could see but him.

maybe you were doing something wrong. no- maybe there was just something wrong with you. who falls in love with their best friend? who lets themself dangerously tiptoe between the lines of friendship and lover, lines that were blurred to no one else but you.

you threw your head back with a groan, fighting the frustrated tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, overflowing with yet another wave of regret as you grumbled to yourself while walking away, probably looking like a psycho to anyone else.

you watched taehyun run with his teammates, captivating your view as he was the only thing visible in your line of sight.

you heard the cheers, you heard the claps, you heard the whistles, you heard everything. you saw everything. but at the same time- you didn’t.

whenever taehyun was on the court, immersing himself in the game, losing himself in the thrill of it all, the cheers that pushed him, motivated him, he was captivating to you.

the way he smiled brightly when they scored, pearly eyes glistening as he celebrated with him teammates, yelling an exclamation that had a large smile pulling itself on your lips as you clapped and cheered with the crowd, exclaiming for the man you loved.

the game continued on slowly, when the opposing team would score, your team would score, it was a race to the end, and neither team was backing down.

you knew why this game was so important. it was the pre-qualifiers for tournaments, and getting to those meant big things- obviously.

you were stressed, to put it simply. you found it funny sometimes, how you had never been a fan of basketball, never payed it any mind, never growing an interest in it- or any sports- in the slightest.

that was until taehyun started playing.

he would meet you after practice, telling you everything that went down, how he dunked perfectly, how he scored perfectly from the center of the court!

you nodded along every time, pretending to understand the words and rules that were coming out of his mouth.

it sounded like simlish to you.

taehyun must’ve caught on to this at some point, because soon he was begging you to just watch one NBA game with him.

“pleeease, y/n. just one, i just want you to be able to understand.”, he whined, pulling on your arm as you stared up at him exasperatedly.

“why are you so adamant about this? it’s not like i’m the one playing!”

“well, yeah,”, he looked a bit dejected, “but i want my favorite person to know what i’m doing when she comes to my games.”

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes widened slightly, not having enough time to control your reactions as his words hit you.

“well- i- i mean, sure. yeah. i could watch like… one game.”, your words stumbled out of your mouth, your brain had completely shut down, words spilling out like an avalanche as you attempted- and failed- to regain your composure and not look like you were seconds away from ripping your hair out of your head.

he sent you a sly smile, seemingly aware of the effect he had on you. little shit. why were you even friends with him?

he pinched your check, muttering something about you being cute before sauntering off to your couch, “thank you! i’ll put on one of my favorite games!”

rolling your eyes, you realized you had once again fallen victim to your overwhelming feelings for taehyun, giving into anything he wanted because how could you ever say no to him?

and so you sat with him, listening as he explained what the referees were calling out, pausing the television every few minutes to go in depth on a subject, hands flying around and such a serious expression on his face, you almost got distracted by him before you had to catch yourself.

but the more he ranted, the more you realized that seeing him ramble on and on about something he was so passionate about was something you wanted to see more of. so, you let him play another game, and another… and another.

over time, you slowly realized that you were becoming interested in basketball. whether it was genuine interest, or you gaslighting yourself to be interested because of taehyun’s love, you weren’t sure.

but you learned all the rules.

every time taehyun had free time, he would come over and watch a new game with you, chips and drinks surrounding you two as you immersed yourselves in the television, face scrunching up when something unfortunate happened.

it got to a point where you caught yourself complaining out loud when they called a foul, eyes rolling and asking taehyun, are they serious, before angrily stuffing chips into your mouth.

and soon you were jumping up with him when the team you were rooting for won, exclaiming with him as you did your little happy dance in the living room, never once stopping to question how stupidly uncoordinated you looked.

then you were at his practices, you were bringing him lunch, you were watching him play. you became close with his teammates, learning all their names, and even know as he played in college and roomed with 4 of his teammates who you had grown close with, you were still going to his practices when you had time. it was a routine.

basketball had grown to be something you loved, and enjoyed. and you had taehyun to thank for all of it.

a yell tore you out of your daydreaming, zoning back in on the game as you realized the game was about to end, and taehyun’s team needed to score this point to win the game.

you let your elbows rest on your knees as you leaned forward, concentration etched on your face as you watched the ball travel back and forth between players, the loud squeaks of shoes rubbing against the gym floor slightly causing your eyes to twitch, but you stayed focused.

players on the opposing team were starting to become restless, and you picked up on that, noticing taehyun did as well, his eyes zoning in on the ball as he grounded himself to watch where the ball was going next before he leapt into action.

he weaved through the players easily, dodging hands and bodies that tried to block him, easily swiping the ball from underneath another player, holding onto the ball as he spun away from the man before letting the ball drop to the ground again as he dribbled it easily, making his way to the middle of the court.

you watched as he closed his eyes for a quick second, eyebrows furrowing as he pushed breath out his lips. you noticed it was a habit he had picked up, when he was getting ready to shoot, and he was concentrated, he made that face. you found it endearing.

with 5 seconds left on the clock, his eyes opened back up, a dark gaze in them as he zoned in on the basket. his arms lifted up, his fingers gliding off the ball easily as he shot it into the air, watching as it rolled through the air, landing in the basket and scoring a point easily.

the room erupted with cheers as you realized taehyun had won the game. he had made the winning shot. he was going to the tournaments.

you couldn’t hold back the yell that escaped your throat as you screamed for him, watching as his head turned towards your voice, before he was running straight to you with a wide, confident smile on his face.

“did you see what i did?”, he practically yelled over the cheers, arms pulling you into his embrace before quickly pulling back, hands coming up to hold onto the sides of your face.

you breath caught in your throat, a warmth spreading across your whole body, “yes! you were amazing!”

he stared at you for a second, not saying anything. there was once again the expression you couldn’t read on his face, his brows furrowing the tiniest bit.

you didn’t have time to think about it too much though, because as you opened your mouth to say something, you felt a pair of soft lips press against yours.

a small gasp left your lips, your whole body melting into taehyun’s touch and kissing him back before you even processed what you were doing.

his lips moved against yours perfectly, soft lips enveloping your own as his hands caressed your face, his touch featherlight, but somehow still holding you in place.

he pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against your own as heavy breaths escaped the both of you.

you didn’t know what had just happened. your brain was going blank, thoughts seemingly disappearing into this air as you tried to recollect yourself, tried to make any sense over what had just happened.

your eyes fluttered open, staring into taehyun’s eyes, not knowing exactly what to say. a dark red blush covered his cheeks, and he carefully removed his hands from your face and pulled his face away from yours, reality slowly hitting the both of you.

“i.. i don’t know why i did that.”

oh.

did he regret it?

you didn’t know what to say. your felt as though your mouth had gone dry, eyes blinking haphazardly and mouth stuttering open and closed.

“oh..”, was all that you were able to get out.

taehyun opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could get any words out, soobin was clapping him on the back, thanking him for winning and doing so well for the team.

“hey, y/n!”, he greeted you quickly, before his eyes were quickly fleeting back to taehyun.

you didn’t have it in you to reply at the moment.

you watched as taehyun was dragged away, eyes holding contact with yours for as long as he could until bodies were blocking his view from you, turning him around, speaking to him, thanking him, things he should’ve wanted to hear.

but he didn’t.

he didn’t want to hear those things right now.

he wanted to speak to you, he wanted to be able to tell you it wasn’t a mistake, he knew why he kissed you. he kissed you because he was in love with you. truly, madly, deeply in love with you in such an irrevocable way he couldn’t change it even if he tried.

but as he desperately looked at the spot where you were standing seconds ago, he saw no one, the ghost of the incident that had happened between you two seconds ago replaying in your mind.

you tried to hold back your tears as you stumbled through the doors of the gym, not knowing what to do or think or feel or..

you were overstimulated, wanting everything to slow down and speed up at the same time.

finally, the flood of tears you were holding back broke, tears streaming down your face freely as you tried to make your way to your car as quickly as you could, not wanting anyone to see or hear the way ugly sobs were leaving your mouth.

you didn’t know why taehyun had kissed you.

you thought for a second he felt the same way as you, maybe he was as deeply in love with you as you were with him!

but the way he looked after, the expression on his face, the words that left his mouth..

you felt stupid.

you felt stupid. there was no other words to describe how you felt. foolish. you were foolish for thinking that way for even a second.

and as you climbed into your car, a whole new wave of emotions hit you as more sobs wrecked your body, letting your head hit the steering wheel as regret coursed through your veins.

what had you done?

you were a wreck.

you hadn’t called taehyun in two days, hadn’t texted him, you hadn’t even been going to school for the sole fear of running into him.

your friends had noticed your absence, knowing that something like this was not part of the norm for you, so you had been getting bombarded with messages asking if you were okay, if you were feeling sick, if you needed someone to talk to.

you replied with a simple “i’m fine<3” every time. because how lame would you seem if you told them you had fallen into some type of depression because you had kissed your best friend?

there was something so delicate about your and taehyun’s friendship now, and you were scared that if you messed with it in the slightest, it would rip. and you couldn’t risk losing your best friend.

but what if by not talking to him you were losing him?

what if you talked to him and lost him that way?

too many negative thoughts were swirling in your mind like a hurricane ravishing a town, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

perhaps it was time to just… watch netflix while cuddled in your favorite blanket, blocking out the rest of the world and all your worries.

yeah, that sounded really nice right about now.

taehyun had been anxiously checking his phone nonstop for the past two days.

debating whether he should text you first, or wait for you to reach out first.

he was in such a dilemma, he didn’t know what to do to solve this.

actually, the answer was simple. but was he ever actually going to confess to you?

that’s funny.

the boys didn’t want to say anything the first day, brushing it off as them looking too deeply into things.

but this was not how taehyun acted normally. no, he carried himself so confidently. he knew what he wanted. he didn’t back down. this taehyun they had seem moping around the dorm, school, and even practice- a place where all his worries usually disappeared- was not the taehyun they knew.

“hey, taehyun," yeonjun called, taking the spot next to him on the couch, “have you been feeling alright lately?”

taehyun’s head jerked up, a bit of confusion painting his face as he stared at his older friend, “yeah, i’ve been fine. why?”

“you just haven’t been acting like your normal self lately. wanted to make sure everything was alright.”, yeonjun explained, sending a small smile taehyun’s way before getting ready to move on with his day after being reassured taehyun was indeed okay.

while standing up from the couch, he felt a slight tug on his shirt and turned around to see taehyun lightly grabbing onto his shirt, a conflicted look in his eyes.

“taehyun,” he sat down once again, giving his full attention to him, “what’s going on?”

he stayed quiet for a bit, obviously not knowing how to approach this conversation in any way.

“are you done watching tv? i wanna play my game.”, beomgyu’s voice echoed down the hall, bouncing into the living room without a care in the world.

“beomgyu, just wait a second, alright?”, yeonjun asked him, and beomgyu immediately noticed how yeonjun was in his “big serious brother mode”- a name the boys had made for when he got like this- and slowly walked over to the couch, taking a seat near taehyun.

“continue, taehyun.”

taehyun shook his head lightly, “i don’t even know where to start.”

“well, just try and explain it. i’ll wait.”, yeonjun reassured him, and taehyun was grateful to have such caring friends for a second.

“imightvekissedy/natthebasketballgametwodaysagoandnowidontknowwhattodo.”

yeonjun’s head visibly shot back from the speed of which the words were thrown at him, not even being able to pick out a few.

beomgyu’s voice filled the silence, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“slow down your words, tae.”

“okay,” he took a deep breath before clearing his throat, “i kissed y/n at the basketball game two days ago when we won because i was excited and now i don’t know what to do, i’m afraid i ruined our friendship. i told her i didn’t know why i kissed her and didn’t say anything else”

silence.

no one said anything for a solid five seconds, if you listened closely enough you would probably be able to hear the neighbors next door.

taehyun said nothing as he stared at yeonjun awaiting his reaction, for him to say something, anything, but all he was getting was a dumbfounded look in return.

then beomgyu’s laugh filled the room, loud and boisterous as he smacked taehyun on his back, hard enough to make taehyun spin around with an exasperated look.

“dude, are you fucking stupid?”, beomgyu exclaimed after calming himself down, smiling at taehyun.

“this isn’t funny, beomgyu. i seriously don’t want to lose her!”, taehyun sighed, letting his head rest in his hands as he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

yeonjun moved himself a bit closer to taehyun, patting his back as he tried to form his next sentence.

“look, taehyun, i’m pretty sure beomgyu’s not laughing to make fun of you, it’s just-“, he started, before being rudely cut off.

“she’s been in love with you for years!”

taehyun’s head shot up at the sound of that, staring at beomgyu with an incredulous look.

“what?”

“i’m surprised you haven’t realized. we all know, i guess you’re the only one that didn’t.”, beomgyu continued, speaking as if this was supposed to be common knowledge to taehyun.

it sounded like some alien language to him.

you? in love with him? there’s no way he didn’t notice.

“beomgyu, you better not be fucking lying to me right now.”, taehyun spoke, brain running into overdrive.

“he’s not.”, yeonjun spoke this time, sending taehyun a reassuring smile.

“i’ve spoken to her about it before. i told her to just tell you because it wouldn’t go as badly as she was thinking. she’s honestly head over heels for you.”, he continued.

“but-“, taehyun tried to speak, before being cut off by yeonjun once again.

“and, to be quite honest, you ghosting her after randomly kissing her out of nowhere, then proceeding to tell her you didn’t know why you did… that has to be making her feel like shit, knowing how much she likes you.”, yeonjun finished. he made sure to give taehyun a disappointed dad look.

taehyun was standing up in a second, the boys not even being able to process how fast he was moving until he was pulling on his shoes by the door.

“taehyun, where’re you going?”, yeonjun asked, and instead of getting a reply, he got the door shutting in his face.

“it’s raining, taehyun get a jacket!”, beomgyu also

called out to him, but his warnings fell on dead ears as taehyun was long gone.

there was nothing but adrenaline coursing through his veins as he pushed through the heavy rain, ignoring the way the fat droplets stung his skin, feeling himself become more and more drenched with each king stride he took, already knowing he would be getting a cold from this, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

all he knew was that he needed to make things up to you.

if only he had picked up on the signs that were apparently obvious to everyone else, maybe you would’ve been his by now, but he was so oblivious to everything that he missed every little sign and hint you threw his way.

he pushed past people walking on the street, not even bothering to apologize as he cut people off, mind fixed on one thing and one thing only.

feet slipping on wet concrete as he caught himself from falling too many times to count at this point.

he finally made it to your apartment building, standing outside for a few seconds to catch his breath and make sure he actually knew what he was about to do.

he thought he should’ve been second guessing at least one part of this by now, but he wasn’t. not one single thing.

he stared up at the floor you lived on, mentally readying himself for whatever outcome he walked out of the building with. he just needed you to know, needed you to understand how far the extent of his feelings for you were.

he was indisputably in love with you.

you had to say, sitting on the couch for seven hours straight was slowly making you feel worse rather better.

you had nothing else to do though, and you refused to leave the house for reasons that were obvious to you only.

so, watching reruns of gilmore girls had become your new reality for the last couple days, curled under your favorite blanket with a snack in arms reach at all times.

it was entertaining at first, it distracted you, and it felt like the start of summer break, when you did absolutely nothing for a couple days and just savored not being in school.

at this point though, you just felt like you were rotting into the couch. your mind drifted off to your movie marathons with taehyun every once in a while, and you would have to turn off the tv and get on your phone for a bit.

it was like he followed you around everywhere. even if he wasn’t there in person, you tried to do everything you could to distract yourself, to think of anything besides him.

but your mind would always come back to him. you would find some way to relate what you were doing with him, and that would ruin your day all over again.

presently, you were watching pretty little liars, starting to venture into shows you had watched years and years ago.

you were just getting to a good scene when a knock sounded on your door.

you weren’t expecting company, confused as you stood up from the couch to slowly make your way over to the door.

god, no one needed to see you in this state, you were praying it was just a delivery guy or something.

you hadn’t ordered anything though, so that seemed implausible.

looking through your peephole, you felt as though all the air was ripped from your lungs.

taehyun was standing on the other side.

you almost didn’t open it, wanting to turn the other way and run straight for your bedroom, but you knew you were going to have to speak to him about what happened sooner or later.

he was also soaking wet, and you felt bad for him.

slowly, you opened the door, feeling meek as your eyes met his, trying to not break down on the spot.

“taehyun.. what are you doing here,” you looked him up and down, “and why are you soaking wet?”

you grabbed a hold of his forearm so you could pull him inside, immediately setting him down on the couch as you began to trudge off to your room to grab him clothes he had left the last time he was here.

you were trying so hard to hold yourself together right now.

reaching into your closet to grab his clothes, you heard footsteps approach from behind you.

“y/n.”

you didn’t turn to face him, instead keeping your eyes trained ahead, refusing to let yourself break.

“you can just listen, that’s fine.”

you heard a quiet sigh, before he began speaking again.

“i.. i know i messed up a few days ago. honestly, i don’t know what was going through my head. i mean, i do know. i wanted to kiss you. i really like you, i mean, i honestly think i’m in love with you but- i just, that wasn’t the right time to act on my feelings for you. and i was in shock about what i did so i just.. i said i didn't know why i did it. i do know. i did it because i’m in love with you, and i don’t know if you feel the same way, beomgyu told me you did which is why i ran all the way over here but-“

“taehyun.”

you had turned around while he was mid rant, and he didn’t even realize, looking at the ground while he talked, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, and his own hands. he was obviously incredibly nervous.

“hm?”, his voice was meek, eyes meeting yours once again.

“i’m in love with you, too. i have been for years.”, you replied quietly, a small smile on your lips, watching the way his eyes lit up at your sentence.

he took two quick steps towards you before his lips were on yours once again.

hands pressed on either side of your face, holding you like you would disappear if he let go.

there was so much emotion, so many more feelings than you thought could be exchanged through a simple kiss.

his lips molded with yours perfectly, moving against you in a way that made you feel complete. you were once again completely surrounded by him, but you enjoyed it this time.

you felt like you were on cloud nine, your hands sliding all over his arms, trying to find some way to ground yourself.

very carefully, you felt his tongue prod at your lips, and your mouth was opening before you knew what you were doing.

mouths working together in such a love-filled way, you let all your inhibitions go, completely falling into this new feeling, and letting yourself be fully surrounded by it.

was this what people meant when they talked about a true love’s kiss?

the only reason you pulled away was due to your lungs starting to burn from the lack of oxygen, keeping your eyes closed as you caught your breath.

“so pretty..”, you heard taehyun whisper, and you couldn’t fight the shy smile that formed on your lips.

your eyes fluttered open softly, letting out a quiet giggle once you met his eyes, head leaning into the crook of his neck as your hands circled his waist, holding him so close to you.

a laugh erupted from his lips at your action, “god, you’re so cute.”

this is what true love felt like. you knew it then and there. this is what all the characters in romance movies talk about, this is the feeling they try to convey. you understood it now. and it felt amazing.

you pulled away to look at him, “so, we’re like.. dating now right?”

another small chuckle left his lips.

“well, y/n, do you want to be my girlfriend?”, he asked dramatically, taking on the voice of a prince after saving the princess.

it was your turn to burst into laughter, slapping his chest lightly and rolling your eyes.

“you’re supposed to take a moment like this seriously! but yes, i do want to be your girlfriend.”

“good, because there was no way i was letting you go.”, he confessed quietly, a hand coming to hold your face as his thumb stroked your cheek.

you leaned up to capture his lips with yours once again, a small peck before you pulled back. taehyun’s lips tried to follow yours, but you only giggled softly, pulling back more and more.

“i’m not done kissing you.”

you were in for a long night.

lollll i hope u enjoyed :)))))

#kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #taehyun oneshot #txt ff #this is my first posted fanfic im scared

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legitalicat · 26 days

Text

Too Sweet - Modern!Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

AN: Hello my beautiful people! I hope you enjoy this story. It started as a little love note to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier because I feel it's very Aegon coded. It then became kind of an amalgamation of a few different stories. My own story and journey with alcoholism and recovery played a big part in this, and as I wrote it parts of my feelings about my older brother, who is in active addiction, came into play. Please know that this is not everyone's story. Recovery from addiction looks different for most everyone. I truly overcame my addiction through building community and connections. I know many people who have to work a program to succeed. I know a person who actually did get a degree after a near lifetime of addiction and now he does a lot of things to help our local community in treating addiction. So really, this is a love letter to people like me and my brother. There is hope and I believe in every one of you.

Link to the TED Talk mentioned.

TW: blatant talks of alcoholism and substance abuse, talks of rehab, family issues, abusive family subtext yet never explicitly stated, gonna say it's kinda angsty, FLUFF

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

Word count: almost 3k

The soft pads of her feet made barely any noise as she walked into his bedroom, carrying a mug in each hand and wearing nothing but his MCR tee-shirt. Technically, they should both be in a deep sleep by now. It was fast approaching four in the morning and neither of them had bothered to close their eyes once. It was all he could to not hold her close in bed and stare at her captivating beauty.

When Aegon first saw her, weeks ago, he was stunned. It was the first time he had gone to the new bar right down the road from his apartment and it just so happened it was karaoke night. He had been tempted to turn around when he heard a horrendous rendition of his favorite Hozier song. But then she took the mic from her drunken friend, and it was as if the heavens parted and the gods showed him the future Mrs. Aegon Targaryen.

“Your coffee, sir,” she said to him as she handed him a mug. “No worries, it’s as black as your soul,” she added with a teasing grin.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said as he took the mug from her.

She was truly a lesson in divinity for him. Aegon didn’t truly believe she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. There would be people who would think she was average looks, maybe even less than that, but he didn’t need her to be more beautiful than anyone else. He wanted her exactly as she was. Beautiful like a spring day, teeming with beauty in the most natural of ways. Like one would think of a cherry blossom tree, or their favorite flower. Simple and breathtaking, a reminder of life and truth on a fundamental level.

He knew it the moment they locked eyes in that bar. Her voice shook from nerves as she sang in front of the crowd of strangers. When she looked at him, and he at her, he felt joyful for the first time in years. All of the stupid shit with his family, the years of drowning his sorrows in whiskey and wine and any other drug, none of it mattered.

If he were honest, he couldn’t remember how he got so lucky. He knew he approached her once she was done singing and complimented her. By the end of the night she was nestled beside him in bed, and he’d be damned if he ever let her leave.

“Gods, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he watched her. He knew she was drinking hot chocolate, finding the taste of coffee much too bitter.

“What was that?” she asked him when she pulled the mug away from her face. She had a bit of whipped cream on her upper lip, making his heart feel like it was on the brim of exploding.

He leaned forward, just barely, and lifted his hand to wipe the cream away with his thumb. She gave him a cute little smile when it brushed against her lips, puckering them to press a kiss to his skin. When he pulled his hand away and sucked the cream off, he heard her giggle.

“This is why you’re so sweet. Where most people drink whiskey and coffee, you put sugar in your sugar and drink it until the sun comes up,” he told her. Of course, he was teasing her.

“Because unlike you, Mr. Listen to Sad Music Even When I’m Happy, I like to enjoy things. The good things. The sweet things, like whipped cream and hot chocolate and fruit loops in bed on Saturday mornings. I just think I live a better life than you,” she told him. She was grinning from ear to ear.

If Aegon wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would tell her how he loved her. He loved that she wanted to eat sweets at all times. He loved that she teased him for listening to My Chemical Romance or Asking Alexandria, calling it all sad music, even when she would listen right alongside him. He loved that she would start crying at the Wonka movie near the end, unashamed about feeling overwhelmed by the backstory.

If he weren’t so afraid she didn’t love him, he would tell her. He knew it had only been a few weeks, that all logic points to love at first sight being nothing more than him just getting turned on by her appearance. But how could he not love her when she sat in bed with him like this after making him a cup of coffee before the sun had even risen? How could one resist the gentleness of her touch when they watched TV together and she insisted on holding his hand? How could he be expected to watch her hyper fixate on a book or a video game, talking about it for hours on end with so much passion she always ended up wound up and breathless?

“You’re too sweet for me,” he told her as he laid back against the head board. He gently pulled her into his side, wanting to have her as close as humanly possible.

His words were met with an amused chuckle. She didn’t fight his hold on her, instead melting into him as though it was where she had always been.

“Tell me about your family,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’ve not been further than ten feet from you for weeks and you haven’t said the first word about them.”

He could feel his jaw clench as she asked him. His family was a complicated and sensitive subject. Even though he wished he never had to speak to her about them, he knew he had to if he had any hopes of them becoming more than just a passion fueled fling.

“Not much to really say. Dad ran Draconic Industries. My older sister, Rhaenyra, is my dad’s daughter with his first wife. He made her next in line to take over the business. Me, my younger siblings, even my mom, we never really mattered much to dear old dad. He died when I was nineteen. I don’t really matter much to any of the rest of them,” he told her, tracing shapes on her bare thigh as he spoke.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said quickly.

“It is,” he told her without any uncertainty. “Helaena, my younger sister, hasn’t spoken to me in a few years either. I haven’t spoke to my youngest brother Daeron since we were kids. And my brother Aemond…he was the last to hold out hope for me and I burned that to the ground a long time ago. I think it’s been at least a year. My mom completely disowned me about four years ago, when I was around twenty-two, cause I refused to go to rehab again.”

She frowned softly but said nothing. He could only imagine what was going through her head at this point. If roles were reversed, he would probably be planning his exit strategy. All it felt like he told her was a sob story about a poor rich kid who can’t live off mommy and daddy anymore. He felt pathetic.

“What did you go to rehab for?” she asked him.

“Started partying when I was like twelve. Alcoholic by age fourteen. Lead to worse shit, as it does, and I overdosed when I was eighteen on some coke. My mom and grandfather checked me into rehab the following week. Have done two more stints since. Never really stuck, and I haven’t been sober for more than a few days since I was like fifteen.”

He was laying in all our there for her. He wanted her to know so she could decide if she thought he was worth the trouble. He couldn’t blame her if she ran away from him. Why would she stick around? All of his family had washed their hands of him and they were family. She was just someone he met in a bar a few weeks before.

She stayed quiet for a long time. Longer than he would’ve liked. The silence weighed on his heart like an elephant pressing against his chest. He wanted to beg her to say something, anything, just so he knew where her head was at.

Though, he noticed, she didn’t move away from him. She stayed right there, comfortable tucked into his side, occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. His own mug, still filled with coffee, had gone near forgotten in his hand. He was too focused on her.

“You know, the opposite of addiction is connection. Watched a TED Talk one time about it. They found when addicts are treated like people instead of criminals, integrating them into society instead of isolating them, they show less of a struggle with addictions. Allow their basic needs to be met, give them a community, and they thrive,” she said softly after several moments.

She sat up, her warmth leaving him. He felt lonely without her touching him even though she was still well within arm’s reach. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

“I’m not saying I can fix you. I’m not saying the cure to all your problems is me giving my heart to you. I am, however, telling you that I haven’t once seen you drunk or high or anything and we basically haven’t been apart in weeks. If you want to develop healthy connections, create a community, be a person, I am more than willing to be part of it,” she said.

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest. He knew she was right. Since being with her, he hadn’t really felt the need for anything. He had physical cravings, sure, but no mental desire. Aegon didn’t want a moment with her to be a hazy memory that he may be able to recall when he's older.

“Why?” he asked her.

“Because I love you,” she said.

The weeks and months following that night, Aegon really put in the work. Y/N had made it clear to him that she was not going to just give him everything. If he wanted this, it was on him. She was only helping him.

Together, they had found a group therapy program for him. It was ran by a man who had gotten his psychology degree a few years before, but had struggled with addiction for most of his life. That was the first step, a step Aegon felt proud he had taken once he realized he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The next step, he decided on by himself. The group program was all well and good, but he felt a need to find a deeper explanation into himself. Once a week he found himself sitting in a therapist’s office, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They spoke about his family, his self imposed isolation from them and how that lead to them cutting off, his hopes and dreams for the future.

Through this, he found out about opportunities for volunteer work in the community. He realized he quite liked working at the local secondhand store that helped people in need. He even brought her with him on the Saturdays he worked a shift, turning it into something they enjoyed together.

Even at work, he began reaching out more. If the opposite of addiction was connection, then by the gods he was going to make connections. His coworkers were enough to give him a good laugh. All of them were extremely proud of the progress he made, always encouraging him. He found that little bit alone made it easier for him to be more himself. In the conversations he was able to have with his coworkers, he talked about shows, movies, and music he liked and became friends with a few of them.

It was with this progress, along with the support Y/N provided, that Aegon found himself at the door of his family’s estate. He hadn’t been here in years. He knew all of his younger siblings still lived here. Helaena’s bright yellow VW Beetle sat parked in the driveway, Aemond’s motorcycle probably laid in parts in the garage, and Daeron had always been more content taking a town car than actually driving himself anywhere.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Y/N told him as she held his hand tightly. He had asked her to come with him so she could at least meet them. They needed to see how he had changed.

“I do have to. If for no other reason than to show them I’m not who they remember me to be,” he told her.

“Did you talk to Dr. Wilson about this? I mean, I just, I don’t want you to,” she said, trying desperately to find the right words. He silenced her with a kiss to her forehead.

“And I love you for it,” he said to her, holding her hand as tightly as she held his. “I’m okay with whatever happens in there.”

He knocked hard on the door. It wasn’t long before his mother answered. The ever looming presence of Alicent Hightower, never Targaryen, filled the entire space of the door frame. Her auburn curls were tied neatly back into a bun, her brown eyes widened in surprise.

The woman before him, despite being in her forties, showed no true signs of aging. There were no gray hairs scattered around her head, no fine lines or wrinkles. The only indication of a less than flawless appearance were the almost invisible lines that came from the outer corners of her eyes, put there by the fact that just like Aegon, her eyes would always squint up whenever she smiled.

“Aegon,” she said quietly. She looked at him like she saw a ghost.

“Hi, mom. Can we come in?” he asked her, biting his lip. Y/N gave his hand a small squeeze as if to remind him she was with him. He had her support every step of the way.

Alicent nodded silently and stepped to the side, allowing them entrance. The house was the same as the last time he was here. All of the old family photos hung on the walls of the hallway to the living room. The air smelled of cedar wood and spiced apples, giving it the perpetual scent of fall. It was warm and inviting, the plush couch so comfortable beneath him it was almost indicative of how much money his mother spent on it.

In a lot of ways, the house felt like his family. It was the epitome of warmth and love on first glance. When you looked closer, you could see how some of the picture frames were void of glass, having been broken in one family argument or another. There was a coat the hung on the same rack, day in and day out, hiding the hole where his head went through the wall in a drunken stupor. The paint on the walls were beginning to chip away, revealing the yellowing walls that proved how much his dad had liked to smoke. It was haunted, irreversibly scarred by the past.

A maid came around and asked the three of them if they wanted a drink. Alicent requested a glass of wine. Aegon noticed how surprised she looked when he just asked for a soda, like Y/N was having. He also noticed how she kept looking at his hand that held Y/N’s.

“And who is this?” She asked, nodding her head to Y/N.

“This is the woman I’m going to marry, Y/N,” he said confidently.

They hadn’t spoken about it, there wasn’t a ring on her finger. But he had no doubt in his mind that he would marry her. He was certain that she was who he was made for. The gods had her in mind when they designed him, knowing how much he would love her. She truly was his soulmate.

“And so you came to show her how terrible we all are?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. “Or did you come for money? Because you’re not getting a dime.”

“Neither,” he said firmly. “I just wanted you to see me, mom. I wanted to see you.”

She was surprised at his words. The last time he had spoken to her, he had been begging for money. Crying, begging. When she refused, trying to help him in the best way she knew how, he screamed at her about all of her faults. The last words he spoke to her was how he could only hope that he had the courage to kill himself before he turned into her.

“I’m sorry for…for everything,” he told her. “It wasn’t fair of me to blame everything on you.” Y/N squeezed his hand again. He looked down at their hands and he knew he was okay. He would be okay. “I’m like, eight months sober from everything. Not a drop of booze, no drugs. I have a full time job, I volunteer on the weekends at a secondhand store. I’m doing good, mom.”

Tears flooded to her eyes as she looked at him. Her oldest son, the first person she ever truly loved in a selfless manner. She had thought he was completely lost to her. The vicious creature he had been when they last saw each other had melted away entirely.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked him. He could only wordlessly nod, allowing her the time to stand from her chair and walk over to him. She hugged him tighter than she ever had.

He looked over Alicent’s shoulder at Y/N. The woman he loved was watching him with tears of her own, a smile on his face. She was good, too good, for him. She had opened his eyes to a reality he had been scared to face. But she had never once made him face it alone.

And that made all the difference.

#dividers by benkeibear #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #mental health #recovery

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inhuman-obey-me · 4 months

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Hello! Congratulations of 4000+ followers! Y'all do amazing writing, and its been really cool to see the blog grow overtime

For the event, may I request⚡️with Diavolo and yes on MC! Thank you so much, and I hope y'all have a good day

Thank you so much!! ;//u//; And also thank you for sticking around for so long -- it really does mean a lot! 💕

"What good is this "great power" of mine? Absolutely everything slips through my fingers." - Diavolo/MC

You hadn’t asked for this power.

No, it was something that had been thrust into your hands, into your very being as the trajectory of your life changed the instant you opened your eyes and found your gaze held by pools of gold in an unknown and dangerous world. It was that one moment that began the unraveling, the revealing of all that you were and to be.

It seems like such a distant memory now, that first day in the Devildom.

No, you hadn’t asked for this power, but you didn’t refute it either. You had welcomed it, reveled in it. You had been plunged into a world of magic and monsters, angels and demons, witches and sorcerers – and you, a mere human who had been oblivious to the very real existence of this world in the shadows, were considered to be one of the most powerful mortals among it.

And yet, as of late, you had been feeling absolutely powerless.

“Love, you’ve barely touched your food.” Diavolo’s gentle voice brings you out of your thoughts, and you look up now to meet those same golden eyes you first held all those years ago. His gaze flickers to your hand, where you’ve been fidgeting with the Ring of Light. The one thing stopping your very existence from ending the world as you knew it.

“Sorry,” You give him an apologetic smile as you lift your fork, letting it slowly sink into one of the vegetables on your plate. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Care to share?” He’s worried. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” A sigh, and you set your fork down as you lean back in your chair. You try to find the words, your emotions half-formed on your tongue. “It’s just…with everything going on, I feel rather…useless.”

“Useless? You?” Diavolo nearly scoffs, leaning forward in bewilderment. “What makes you think that? Surely, we’ve all told you how you’ve done so much for us, for the Three Realms.”

“Have I, though?” You feel your throat begin to tighten, so you try to force your feelings down. “Everyone says that, and sure, to some extent I’ve played my part. But,” Your fingers tighten around the napkin in your lap. “You all have helped each other. I’ve just been a conduit, and sometimes I…I’ve been more of a problem to solve than a solution.”

“That’s not true–”

“But it is!”

Your voice cracks then, and you realize you can’t keep down the swirl of doubt and agony any longer. Before you even feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, you find Diavolo now right beside you, holding your hands in his.

“My love, you hold more power than you can even begin to imagine.”

“And what of it!” You hastily remove your hands from his grasp, waving to the air around you. “What good is this ‘great power’ of mine?” The tears have escaped, and there’s a pang in your chest. “Absolutely everything slips through my fingers. I’ve barely begun to understand it and…and I don’t even know if I could save the very ones I care about from those that wish them harm.” Your eyes flicker to the ceiling, and you try to blink back the salt that hasn’t already slid down your cheeks. “I’ve come closer to destroying everything with it!”

The silence that follows your outburst is heavy. Diavolo examines your visage with a somber expression, his lips that so often are curved into a grin now taut and straight. It feels like ages before he finally speaks.

“It’s a terrible feeling, isn’t it?” You don’t know if you’ve ever heard his voice so low before. He was a demon who could make a whole room shake with his jovial laugh. “There are days where I, too, feel utterly powerless.”

“You?” Grasping at that napkin again, you bring it up to dry your face. “But–”

“I’m the ruler of the Devildom? One of the most powerful beings in the Three Realms? Yes, my dear. All great power comes with its golden chains, with its obstacles.” With a heavy sigh, Diavolo looks around the lavish dining hall you were both seated in. “A faction of the House of Lords continuously tries to undermine me, scheming behind my back to try and throw me out of my position.” His gaze now falls onto a painting on the distant wall, brushstrokes capturing war and fury. “The Celestial Realm tests my patience, mocking me at times as they play their own games, mainly of semantics.”

He turns his attention back to you with a sad smile. “They’re all waiting to find a crack, see what will bring me down to my knees. They’ve nearly succeeded at times. Made me feel like I was just a child playing at king. Made me feel that no matter the power I possessed, they could still pull the rug from under me.”

His hands find yours again, and this time you let them stay.

“But what I found is that despite it all, despite all the power that I possess, what really puts my feet on solid ground is having those who still stand by my side through it all.” He looks deep into your eyes, and once more you’re captivated by that calming gold.

“And you, darling, have some of the best by yours.”

#first time I've written in months and of course this got so much longer than intended ajlsdf #anyways not enough people talk about season 2 mc angst #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #omnb #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me fic #obey me drabble #4000 follower celebration #writings #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos

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yurinaa-world · 6 months

Note

can i request a familial blade fic w/ an astral express sibling... the parted paths, the forgotten memories only remembered by one...... the familial feeling of playful spar in serious battle..

Characters: Blade !platonic x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: Sibling Reader and Blade: remembering each other in a heated battle

Warnings: Ansty, mentions of blood, fighting, no comfort, mean blade, platonic no romance, spelling mistakes

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Swords clashed together, a symphony of steel meeting steel. The metallic melody reverberated through the air, your heart pounding in your chest, almost like it would rip from your chest and fall to the ground, accompanied by a sharp intake of breaths, and the clash continued on. Sweat dripped down your face. That monstrous Stellaron Hunter has no shame going up against you like this while injured, but what did you expect from him after all? You were his enemy as well. You swung around him, blocking another attack with your blade.

He wasn't human at all; something like that couldn't be. A strike went to your shoulder, making a deep cut at your shoulder, making you gasp out loud. Blood ran down your arm, making you stumble a few steps back. A laugh escaped from his harsh throat. His grin was wide; watching your cowardly fear was an amazing sight to see to him. He knew it was only a matter of time before you lost the fight; there was no way that he would let you win.

"Is the little trailblazer scared? How pathetic~" He chuckled, taking a step forward, his sword pointed towards your neck. You try to lift up your own sword, but the pain in your shoulder is too much for you to handle. He takes his sword, and unlike before, the tip of the sword cuts your neck but not deeply. Yet it causes you to fall backward onto the ground, with your hand losing its grip and your sword falling beside you.

He doesn't waste time; he grabs your collar and lifts you off the ground, making you look at him with tears pricked at the corner of your eyes.

No matter how many years pass, you are still a child, playfully sparing again with? With who?

Your head felt like it was going to explode, and the world seemed to spin, making you dizzy with panic.

That face was familiar

Very familiar

Those eyes

Yingxing?

You blinked rapidly, trying to clear up the image in front of your eyes. But the more you tried to remember, the clearer things became, and memories started flowing into your mind like a river. Your eyes widen in surprise. Yingxing?

Blade goes silent The silence that lingered between you two was unbearable, both of your gazes piercing each other's souls. You could feel your breath die, and your pulse quickened as the blade let go of your collar and adrenaline hit you with full force. Your face contorting into a mix of emotions and shock, you took a couple of steps back, horrified and scared. "Yingxing..." you whispered, your voice hoarse. You wanted to scream so badly.

"That name is dead." He spat with disgust. Your gaze was stuck on him, and you took more steps back. "I have nothing to say to you; I'll let you live." Hearing those words, you fell to your knees, clutching your wounded shoulder. You are sobbing now. Everything hurt so bad, you were shaking with fear. "I'll kill you if you say that name again." And with that, he left you in a pool of your own blood. Alone again.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail x you #honkai blade #honkai blade x reader #honkai blade x you #blade x reader #blade x you #honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #platonic

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dailyreverie · 7 months

Text

Healing love

A/N: I may have gotten a bit carried away. Enjoy.

@flufftober - Day 9 Love at first sight

Pairing: Poe Dameron x fem. reader

Word count: 1.6K

CW: Reader is a nurse. Mentions of injury, alcohol consumption, bar setting

Flufftober masterlist

You would never catch Poe Dameron at the med bay, not even by mistake.

He’s tough enough - or so he says - to endure a few scratches here and there until he reaches his quarters and fixes all up by himself. To his defense, he does a decent job at it.

It works perfectly well for Poe, that is until Snap catches him wincing after a mission, the blast he took on his side clearly giving him trouble to even walk down the stairs of his ship. Poe’s claims of rubbing some healing gel on it before bed go unheard by his friend, who lightly pokes his ribs only to get a pained hiss from the pilot. “You’re coming with me or I’ll pierce your lung myself.” Snap demands at the sight of a clearly broken rib.

Unwillingly, Poe begins the walk to the med bay with Snap close behind him to make sure he doesn’t bail. “This is a waste of time, you’ll see,” Poe complains for the thousand time, his never-ending protests reaching deaf ears. The smell of the place is unbearable, like alcohol and medicine even in its precarious state, reminding Poe of one of the reasons why he’s never there.

“Wexley!” A voice greets his friend all of a sudden, and when Poe turns to see the source of it, he’s suddenly forgetting his own name. Snap greets you with a hug an an exclamation of your name matching your happiness, as if you’ve known each other for years. “Is that headache of yours back?”

“Nah, that one’s gone.” He says with a shrug. “Today I’m here for this guy. I don't know if you've met Commander Dameron." Snap motioned towards Poe, who couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement when your gaze met his.

“Poe,” he corrects, extending his hand to meet you. He hadn’t had the chance to meet you, but he’d be a fool not to notice you before. You were one of the newest members, joining the med team as a head nurse, running away from your home planet after an awful invasion; Poe saw you since your very first day when you were following General Organa around base as she showed you the place, and Poe only hoped she would introduce you to him. You did so much as crossing a glance and share a polite smile, but if Poe knew one thing, was to know beauty when he saw it.

Your hand extended to greet him, and Poe couldn't help but be drawn in by the kindness in your eyes. They told a story of resilience and hope, a tale he read like star maps guiding him home. "Alright, Poe, besides the broken rib, does anything else hurt?"

Poe was momentarily taken aback by your quesion. "How do you even know?" he asked, impressed by your intuition. "Do you read minds or something?"

You chuckled, your laughter like a melody contrasting with the sterile environment of the med bay. "No, Poe. I'm just an amazing nurse," you replied playfully, a wink adding a hint of flirtation to your words. With gentle care, you lifted his shirt to inspect his wounded side, your touch sending a warmth radiating through Poe's body that had nothing to do with the pain in his rib.

After that day, Poe found himself looking forward to his check-ups after every mission. It is the best excuse he can find within himself to see you as much as he possibly can, your smile and your delicate fingers always letting him know he was home; he was becoming addicted to it, to laughing at your witty remarks and chatting with you even if just for a couple of minutes, almost to the point of making up injuries if he came back without so much as a scratch.

It was easy with you. Laughing and existing, forgetting about everything for a while doing nothing but being together; a quick check-up, a shared lunch, it doesn't matter. He shares his stories and you share yours and in that, Poe finds a bond in the unspoken, in the way he makes you laugh and the way you make him smile.

It’s not soon after that he started seeing you hanging out with the rest of the Black Squadron members around base: having lunch with Jessika, talking with Karé, laughing at Snap’s bad jokes. Poe can only assume they were teasing him, that his connection to you had become all too apparent to his friends, who were now enjoying the sight of Poe getting flustered by your presence.

He confirmed so one night, when after a long and exhausting mission, the squad gathered at a cantina for drinks and a night away from battles, laughing and having drink after drink to celebrate their latest success. But in the middle of it all, of all the music and laughs, the sound he least expected was your voice.

“I’m sorry I’m so late!” You said loudly, speaking over the music, approaching his table. The rest of the squad cheered, happy to see you, while Poe remained speechless at your appearance. If you looked beautiful under the harsh lights of the med bay, the way you looked out of it was enough to suck all air out of Poe’s lungs. You were out of your usual uniform, your hair was down and relaxed, and somehow, after the long shift you must have had, you glowed with your smile and your joy infecting everyone. “I’m gonna go get the next round, it’s on me for being so damn late.” You walked away before anyone could protest, not before flashing Poe a smile just for him and a soft touch to his shoulder.

Poe couldn't believe the lengths his squad was going to just to tease their Commander. He slammed his hand on the table in mock frustration. “Alright, very funny guys.”

“What are you talking about?” Jess questioned him, shooting him a questioning look just as the rest of his squad did.

“You know what I’m talking about, you invited her just to tease me because you think she makes me nervous, and I’m just telling you it’s not gonna work.”

“Poe, she’s our friend, that’s why she’s here,” Jess said again, trying hard not to laugh.

“Wait… you think we ask her to come just to see you get all flustered? Which is totally not gonna happen.” Snap’s question was filled with sarcasm. “How much do you think about her to even come up with that?”

Poe was speechless and, much to his defeat, a bit flustered. He didn’t know when his world began revolving around you enough to think that everyone else’s did too.

Karé reached for his hand across the table, her touch grounding him in that moment. "Oh, Poe, sweetheart," she said softly, her eyes filled with understanding, "you are in love with her."

Poe's heart skipped a beat as Kare’s words sank in. It was a truth he couldn't deny to himself. To his defense, he was not sure when was the last time he felt that way, but Poe was deeply and irrevocably in love with you. At that moment, he knew that he couldn't keep his feelings hidden any longer. “I think I need to talk to her.”

His squad cheered for him, urging him to go as he downed his drink. Poe found you by the bar, looking at your surroundings as you waited for the drinks, and as your eyes traveled around they found him. Poe felt his heart beating faster at the way you smiled at him.

"Hey," he said, his voice filled with a vulnerability that was new to him.

“Hi,” you replied, your cheeks warming up by his closeness. “Everything alright?”

Poe nodded, his heart pounding like a drum until, he realized, with you he had nothing to fear about. "Actually… do you want to get out of here?"

Before you could respond, Snap appeared behind Poe, carrying the drinks to the table and flashed a knowing smile at the two of you. You replied with a quick nod, silently agreeing to his invitation and letting him guide you outside, only hoping he was there to tell you the same thing you wanted to tell him.

"You know," he began as soon as you were out, his voice soft but sure, "I've been thinking a lot."

"Thinking about what, Poe?" Your stomach erupted with butterflies.

Poe took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "About us. About how I can't stop thinking about you, and about how even though I hate the med bay, for months I’ve been there every single time I’m back from a mission with some pathetic excuse.”

A tender smile graced your lips along with a giggle, and you took a step closer to him. "You hate it?” You asked with false annoyance.

“With my whole being.” Poe laughed, shaking his head. “But I guess what I’m trying to say, is…” In that moment, as Poe saw into your waiting eyes gazing at him, the world around you seemed to disappear entirely, leaving only the two of you. Poe reached out, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your cheek, and he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had been building between you.

As you pulled away, still lost in each other's eyes, Poe whispered, "I love you. Since the moment I met you, I love you.”

And you, with all the love and hope in your heart, replied, "I love you too, Poe Dameron."

🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#flufftober 2023 #day 9 #flufftober #star wars #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x you #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron au #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fic

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writeforfandoms · 7 months

Text

Waking Lions 14

Find the series masterlist

We learn more about Ace's past and her connection to Kate. Also, she finally gets a meal.

Warnings: swearing, past violence, mention of past murder, Ace is still morally gray, Price still needs his own warning.

Word count: 1.7k

Captain went out first, making sure the way was clear for you as you locked up. You hiked your bag a little higher up on your shoulder and followed him down and out to the street, where an SUV was waiting for you.

“Ma’am.” Garrick nodded to you from the driver’s seat, and you settled in the back.

You looked out the window, tired and a little detached after everything. A quick look showed that you’d been working for nearly twelve hours straight. That was… less than ideal.

“Here.”

You blinked and refocused your gaze on Captain, who’d twisted enough to hand a water bottle back to you.

“Thanks.” You took the water, twisting the cap off slowly and taking a drink. You were definitely dehydrated, but you drank slowly, sips at a time, gaze unfocused.

It had been a hell of a couple days.

Honestly, now that you were thinking about it, you were surprised Laswell had noticed so fast. Was it just timing? Or had she gotten word of Gray poking around?

“Nearly there.”

Captain’s voice made you blink rapidly, lifting your head. Both men were facing forward, which was a bit of a relief.

You still weren’t sure how you were going to deal with Captain yet.

Garrick parked and a moment later Captain was opening your door for you. You almost made a teasing remark about him being a gentleman, but… Well, that was too much effort, and you were tired. You just shuffled after him, watching for Kate.

Kate spotted you first, your eyes locking across the distance. You sighed, long and slow. Oh, this was not going to be fun.

But you still let yourself be herded to a seat across from her, plopping down ungracefully. That didn’t matter. You didn’t need to be graceful right then.

“What happened?” She looked between all three of you.

You picked up the menu and held it in front of your face. Captain could start this one.

“Found her working,” Captain said after a few moments of thick silence. “No evidence of anyone else watching. I doubt anyone knows she’s here.”

“And why are you here?” Laswell pulled the menu down to stare at you. Damn. She was too good at making you admit things.

“Gray found me.” It was not any easier to admit aloud, even after all the work you’d put in burning three aliases. “Got a call from one of my clients, she informed me that he was asking around after me.” You let the menu fall to the table, exhausted all over again. Your hands were shaking. Just a little.

Laswell frowned, leaning back a little in her chair. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure I’m not willing to risk it,” you shot back, tucking your hands under your thighs. Not that you really thought they had missed your shakiness.

“Which contact?” Laswell tapped her fingers on the table. “Who told you?”

You frowned at her. “No.”

“I need to know where to start looking.”

You sighed, tipping your head back. Valeria had called you, but she’d said he had been asking around. Okay. Gray wasn’t the type who went to underlings, so he hadn’t been asking Las Almas in particular. He’d been asking around that layer of criminal organization. Valeria knew some Russians and some AQ, which was how she’d gotten mixed up in the missile business.

It was possible that White was just a coincidence… But now you weren’t so sure. Especially given that the last place you’d heard about Gray was in the Middle East. And the Russians had ties to AQ.

In retrospect, you were amazed you hadn’t put the pieces together sooner.

“He’s probably working with AQ, or adjacent to them.” You spoke quietly, without looking at any of them.

“He wasn’t that eager to watch the world burn,” Laswell pointed out.

“Last conversation either of us had with him was years ago,” you pointed out, dull, flat. “It’s likely his morals have further skewed. Or he’s decided the ends justify the means. Or he thinks he’s using them for his own ends.” You shrugged, just a little movement.

Captain nudged you, and then again when you didn’t straighten up fast enough for him. “You need to eat.”

You thought about arguing, you really did. But he wasn’t wrong. You flapped a hand at him, letting the others order first as you scanned the menu until you found something vaguely appetizing. Good enough.

“So who is this guy?” Garrick asked, glancing between you and Laswell.

“Crazy asshole,” you muttered, leaning back in your seat again. Your eyes burned a little from too many hours spent staring at a screen.

“Bad news,” Lazwell added. “He’s got ties to weapons smuggling, but he hadn’t previously been a terrorist.”

You grimaced but shrugged. Eh. Close enough.

“And why does he want to kill you?” Captain spoke quietly. You could feel his gaze on you.

“He’s wanted to kill me for years.” Your voice was too flat. This was a tone you hadn’t heard from yourself in years. You didn’t like hearing it now. “He decided to take over my father’s business a long time ago, had him killed, tried to have me killed. Didn’t work, obviously.”

“The fact that you turned witness against him didn’t help his opinion any,” Kate pointed out.

You huffed softly. “And you still couldn’t keep him locked up.” But there was no vitriol in your voice. This had happened a long time ago, you’d come to terms with it already.

“You’re staying with someone until we get this sorted.”

That got you to lift your head and glower at her. “No.”

“If he knows you’re alive and he’s searching for you, you’re in danger. Until we can deal with him, you shouldn’t be alone.”

You grimaced. She wasn’t wrong, exactly, but you hated it. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You can stay with us.”

You blinked at the unexpected offer from Captain. “I dunno,” you drawled. “Sure you won’t try to kill me?”

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Not on my to-do list,” he agreed glibly.

“Good.” Laswell looked between the two of you with something very much like satisfaction, which was setting off all kinds of little alarms in your brain. Kate trying to meddle in your life was very much not a good thing. “We can discuss what you still need to do.”

You narrowed your eyes a little at her. “In terms of…?”

“Your research.”

You blew out a soft breath. Right. Research. The thing you were supposed to be doing before you heard about Gray. “Dunno what more I can get,” you admitted, rubbing your forehead briefly. Now that you were actually paying attention to your body, you definitely had a dehydration headache. “Especially not without getting any closer to Gray.”

“You think he’s involved?”

“I think I’d be a fool to assume otherwise at this point.” You rolled your shoulders, drinking half your water in one go.

Laswell was silent for a few long moments, just watching you. It didn’t make you nervous, not after all this time. Sure, you didn’t want her meddling, but you trusted her.

“We’ll discuss this more after you’ve slept on it,” she decided.

You scoffed but didn’t argue. You didn’t have the energy for that. Food arrived and you all ate, though Captain and Garrick talked quietly. You just focused on your food, working through it with a sort of exhausted determination.

“I’ll do some looking on my side,” Laswell said, looking at Captain. You forced yourself to pay attention, though you were fading fast now that some of the frantic desperation of the situation had faded.

Captain nodded. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Laswell agreed.

Captain stood, as did Garrick. It took Captain nudging your chair for you to stand as well, holding back a groan. Yup. You’d definitely spent too many hours hunched over your computer. The three of you were silent as you walked back to the car, Captain opening the door for you again.

“Do you have everything from that apartment?” Captain asked you.

You blinked, slow and sleepy. You needed to not be, but you’d hit your limit. The food had really cemented your fate - rather than invigorating you, the food was sending you on the fast lane to snooze land. So it took you longer than normal to answer him. “Yeah.”

He nodded once, glancing back at you as Garrick started to drive. “You’ll stay with one of us.”

“Bossy.” You made a face but couldn’t muster the energy to truly fight him. Not on this. Not now.

He huffed softly. But he didn’t say anything else. Something you were rather grateful for.

You weren’t up to your normal verbal jousting just at the moment.

The drive to their hotel was silent, and you slowly tipped sideways into the door. Your blinks got longer and slower as you struggled to stay awake, the quiet climate controlled air too soothing.

The car stopped and your door opened. You probably would have slid right out except for Captain bracing you, chest firm under your shoulder and temple.

“C’mon,” he rumbled softly. “Just get upstairs and you can sleep.”

“Not sleepy,” you grumbled, just to be contrary. But you could barely peel your eyes open, instead listing harder into him until he reached across you to unbuckle your seatbelt.

You did make sure you had your bag, though. You needed that. And you refused to give it up.

“Up we go,” Captain murmured, soft and amused and rumbly and entirely too pleasant. You stumbled a little, but Captain held you upright and kept his arm around your waist, guiding you inside.

You didn’t pay much attention to anything, too tired and out of it to bother to try. Captain wouldn’t let you get killed. Or grabbed. Not while he was right next to you, anyway.

A door opened and Captain pulled you through. A moment later he was gently tipping you into a bed, and you sighed as you went entirely limp. He huffed and pulled your shoes off for you.

“Sleep well, love,” he murmured, one finger gently touching your temple.

And you were out.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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rowdyhughesy · 1 year

Text

Quiet mornings- Jack Hughes

Life with Lake masterlist

word count: 716

Quiet, calm days are a rarity in the Hughes household ever since Lake was born two years ago. It’s always the sound of some kids show, small feet running over the floors. Lake’s laughter as Jack runs after him pretending to be the tickle monster on the days that he’s home.

This morning it’s so quiet your first thought that you were alone in the apartment. So quiet everyone could hear a pin drop. Furrowing your brows you crawl out of bed you share with Jack, pulling one of his discarded sweatshirts over your pyjamas as you shuffle out of the bedroom. As you walk closer to the living room you hear hushed whispers and the low sound from the television.

Rounding the corner you are greeted with the sight of Jack and Lake on the couch. Lake is cuddled up in Jacks lap, still in his pyjamas and curls sticking up all over the place. One of his small hands holding his favourite stuffed animal and the other wrapped around three of his dads fingers. A tight hold as he rests his head on Jacks chest.

Both of them wrapped up in blankets and eyes focused on the show playing on the screen.

Bear in the big blue house, a show you watched growing up and it’s become Lake’s favourite thing in the world. The rare temper tantrums happening when he’s not able to watch it.

“Tweelo!” Lake squeals happily when the lemur shows up on the screen. “Yeah buddy it’s Treelo, he’s your favourite ey?” Jack says with a hushed voice. His smile so big you think his cheeks must hurt. It’s rare he has the time to spend his mornings with Lake so you know he’s embracing the times he does.

“Faworite.” Lake parrots nodding his head in agreement. Jack encourages him, mumbling good job as he kisses the top of Lakes head. Arms wrapping around your son and hugging him closer to his chest.

Your heart feels like it might explode from the sight. It’s always been known to you that Jack would be an amazing dad but seeing it? It makes you want to give him a thousand kids if you get to see him be a dad everyday.

“Is there place for one more?” The sound of your voice makes Lake turn his head in your direction. His big eyes lighting up at the sight. Besides the happy giggle he lets out he makes no move to leave his spot on Jacks lap. If there is one thing that Lake Greyson is it’s a daddies boy. Always glued to Jack when he has the chance.

Jack gives you a quick kiss good morning when you sit down next to the two on the couch. Lifting a corner of the blanket so you can cuddle up to him.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Your husband gives you a cheeky smile at your question.

“You were tired and I wanted some time with my little buddy and he was repeating daddy over and over again on the baby monitor.” You nod laying your head on his shoulder.

“Mommy wook!” Lake points at the tv, the blue mouse shown on the screen making a sandwich. You smile leaning forward to kiss his forehead and smooth down the hair on his head.

As you lean back again Lake let’s go of his stuffed animal, grabbing your hand in his smaller one.

Chubby fingers only reaching around half of your hand but it’s enough to make you feel warm. Aware of the fact that he’s a daddies boy it makes you giddy when he does the small things. Asking you for cuddles, a sloppy kiss to your face or when you’re the one he calls out for when he wakes up.

Jack kisses your cheek when he notices the glossy look in your eyes. “I love you and he does too. You’re the best mom you know that right.”

Shuffling closer to Jack he wraps his free arm around your waist. Hand slipping under the material of your -his- shirt rubbing his fingers over the warm naked skin of your stomach.

It’s the small things that make life so much better, mornings like this. Mornings with your two boys filled with content and love.

#lifewithlakeau #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine

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save-the-villainous-cat · 9 months

Note

Hello Cat, I have been stalking your blogs for about a year now. Your writing is impeccable and I hope to be as amazing as you are some day.

Anyways, I have a request for a possessive Hero getting jealous over supervillain being creepily touchy. But villain is oblivious to it all. H

If you do this, thanks! ❤️

All it took was one news report.

The hero had wasted their evening on the couch, trying to get as much takeout into their stomach as possible, not even paying much attention.

It didn't really bother them to see themselves on TV, however when they announced "exclusive footage" showing the villain, their interest was piqued. Usually, they got to footage like that before the reporters did, so they were more than pissed when they saw the "questionable relationship drama" between the villain and the supervillain on screen.

The supervillain's hands had grabbed into the villain's flesh easily, not even realising when the other had flinched. Obviously, the reporters had speculated about an undeniable sexual relationship, hinting at all kinds of...preferences.

Of course, that had only put more salt into the hero's wound. They had been boiling for over a week.

And now, the hero couldn't even lift their head to look at the villain.

"Ready to give up?" the villain asked, out of breath. They looked horribly exhausted, had looked like that for over two weeks and they were still getting up and still pretending to fight the hero.

"You're injured. This would be a quick fight if I took it seriously," the hero replied and, unfortunately, their stomach was burning. "Let's call it a day."

"No way."

The hero turned around, eyes bloodshot, watching their enemy carefully. And nothing, absolutely nothing could fight the demons in their head that imagined the supervillain's fingers digging into them. God, the hero had lost already, hadn't they?

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the villain asked, their voice closer to a whisper than anything else. Frankly, the hero didn't know. They couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. Whenever they thought about the villain, the supervillain appeared right behind them.

Such a wicked demon infesting their dreams and turning them into nightmares. Sometimes they went too far, showing the other two kissing.

The worst thing was that the villain seemed to enjoy that. Every touch and every kiss. The hero knew, hoped, that wasn't the case. Hoped the villain would end this.

"Do you like them?" the hero asked quietly.

"What?"

"The supervillain. Are they good to you?"

"They're my boss. Wait, are you talking about the footage they released?" the villain asked. Now, they seemed uneasy, unfocused, panicking, somehow.

"Yeah. Is it consensual?"

The villain didn't say anything for a long time and that was enough of an answer for the hero. They had sworn to never kill a human being but this time, they felt like they could make an exception. Poison, maybe? A fight? The hero wasn't sure what was appropriate enough for someone like that, what they deserved.

Poison seemed to be too nice and a fight would exhaust the hero-

"...I guess not saying 'no' is a yes for them. They never do...things that go too far but they also don't really stop. I mean, how on earth am I supposed to say no to my boss? I'll get fired or killed if I do." The hero looked at them, looked at the exhaustion written into their features and the hero was fully aware of their own feelings now.

"Can I get your permission to take care of this?" they asked, still staring at the villain.

"What do you mean?"

"Will you allow me to kill them?"

Again, the villain was quiet. But despite the hero's slowly developing bloodlust, they thought they could see hope light up in the villain's eyes.

"You're free to kill whomever you want to kill," they said finally.

And even though that was a pretty forward statement, probably neither expected the hero to show up at the villain's doorstep, covered in blood and gore a few hours later.

#damn dont be so nice to me jesus #its not that hard to be better than me luv #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask

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onskepa · 1 month

Note

Hey! How about neteyam x human reader? Back on earth, she had been working at a circus and knows lots of tricks. May she show him some?

Ngl it reminded me of the Amazing Digital Circus. BUT! I will stray from that! So I used black butler for reference and other circus stuff to get the idea. So I hope you enjoy this one~!!

-------------

Ko'on

Na’vi are flexible by nature. Running, swinging, swimming, doing so many activities that make their bodies lean and very strong. Broken bones or an injured body part is bound to happen. Neteyam knows this, he has fair share of getting hurt, being scrapped and on close calls breaking bones.

However, what neteyam can't wrap his mind around is how boneless the humans can be. How flexible they looks, as if their skin is made of rubber or some material that can move freely.

Best example he can put is his good friend ko’on. She can move in such strange ways that neteyam would believe she has no bones. Bending completely backwards, forwards, or walking around with just her hands. Better yet, do archery with her feet! Ko’on would give brief explanations of how she was able to do such things. But never a full blown explanation or proper reason for how she can be so…movable.

“Hm, this is pretty good actually,” Ko'on comments as she happily eats some dried meat. Neteyam was sitting across from her, staring down in worry and being slightly weirded out. Ko’on notices his stare and looks up at him, “what? Do I have something on my face?” she asks.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

Ko’on looks to her left and right, shrugging, “what hurts?”

“Ko’on, you have both of your feet beside your head while bending backwards completely. How does that not hurt?” he wonders.

“Ooohh, well it is the same as you hanging upside down, it's normal. Nothing hurts” ko’on answers simply as she takes another bite of her little snack. “Wow, looks like i'm going to ask your mom to make more of these tasty treats-”

“Forget the meat for one second and tell me how that works. Do you even have bones??” neteyams interrupts ko’on. She rolls her eyes and sits up normally. “I do have bones. I am just flexible from all my years of being a performer back on Earth”.

“A performer?” he repeats. The girl nods, her mind swinging into nostalgic mode.

“Yuppers, I used to be in a circus”

“What is a circus?” Neteyam asks after a couple minutes of silence. He and ko’on were taking their time walking around in the forest, him walking calmly as his friend jumps and makes some neat tricks on the branches and vines.

“A circus is a wonderful and even magical place. With a big massive tent that can hold hundreds of people! There is a ringleader, the host and team player. Then you got the stuntmans, the silly clowns and dare devils! There was a whole team of amazing performers”

Neteyam listens happily as ko’on goes on of her time at the circus. And from how she describes, it seemed to be a fun place where everyone was able to enjoy themselves. Perhaps that would be something his family would enjoyed.

And seeing ko’on go on, smile as she explains what roles and shows they had, neteyam wouldn't mind hearing her all day.

“So, what was your role in the circus?” he asks. Ko’on smiles widely, spreading out her arms almost like in a T-pose. “My role was the acrobatic performer. I could jump, lift, swing in tight ropes, walk in thin ones, and almost fly high! And my flexibility made me light as a feather” ko’on said with such enthusiasm.

Neteyam couldn't help but chuckle a bit, “well, if you are as amazing as you say. Perhaps you can show me a few tricks?”. His friend looks down at him, tilting her head a bit, “you want to learn to be flexible?” she asks. Neteyam nods, “as much as I can be”

“You make it look so easy…….!!” neteyam stumbles on himself, falling down from trying to copy ko’on. The girl in question giggles as she sits with her legs over her shoulder and walking around with her hands. “I think its your tail, might be in the way of not properly balancing yourself”.

Both straight up from the failed position practice. Dusting himself off, neteyam wasn't ready to give up. “Is there anything that doesn't have my tail in the way?” he asks, and immediately ko’on nods. “Yuppers! Balancing on a thin rope, or since we are outside, the vines. Your tail might help you alot in this”.

Ko’on takes the lead in demonstrating him as she easily stands still on one of the nearby vines. “The key is mental control. Try not to think you will fall over cause then you will. Be calm, be in the moment, be in the zen mode and it will be easy”.

‘Well easy for her to say’ neteyam thought. Seeing ko’on walking around on the vines was amazing truly, but neteyam felt like he might die if he takes one wrong move.

“Also dont sway-DONT SWAY!!”

Too late, neteyam swayed too much on the right that he fell. Luckily the fall wasnt that high. He grunted as he landed on the groun, hissing a bit at the pain from landing on his side. Ko’on jumps down with grace and goes over to him. Bending down to examine him, she suggests “how about a break?”

He nods to that.

Eclipse was reaching soon so the two take their sweet time making it back home.

“Hey, maybe with some stretches and other stuff, you might be able to pull it off. I was going a bit hard on you "Ko'on says, breaking their silence. Neteyam nods to that, but remembers something.

“The circus…is it still a thing on Earth. When you talk about it, you say it with a bit of sadness” he points out. Ko’on nods, a sad smile matching the mood of her eyes.

“Unfortunately, circuses is not the same. Heck, when I was in it, it was nothing like how it was 100 or 200 hundred years ago. The circus had different kinds of animals. Wild and exotic animals. But as years go by, those animals would stop being shown…and they would be extinct..”

“So what happened? No more animals..?

“In a way, yes. But holographic animals. Its not the same, and before I left, they wanted to change the circus forever. More than usually and I hated it” ko’on says with anger growing in her voice. Neteyam blinks a bit, wondering.

“Changed it? How?”

“Getting rid of actual performers and stunts, all what makes a circus, gone! And to replace it with the oh so “The amazing digital circus!” ko’on says in a rather mocking tone. Neteyam contained his inner laughter. Not wanting ko’on to see it.

“And the ring leader isn't even a real ring leader! Just a talking gummy jaw with floating eyes and a weird ass bubble assistant!”

Im sorry, I had to put it in. But that was a goody! Hope you like it! I might come back to fix it cause im writing it while being half asleep. So, until next time! See ya!

-----------

ko'on = Ring, oval shape, closed ring

#avatar #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x you #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x y/n #the amazing digital circus

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 || 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐈̇𝐂𝐒

** banner by the amazing @pedrorascal thank you so much bby for taking the time to make this for me 🧡🧡🧡

series summary: Still struggling to come to terms with his father's recent passing, burdened by the weight of the business he left behind, Javi feels adrift. Meanwhile, years later, an unexpected twist of fate brings you back into Javi's life again—the daughter of his favorite housekeeper. Uncertain about your future and what to do with it, you find yourself at a crossroads, while Javi wrestles with the irresistible pull he feels towards you.

pairing: javi gutierrez x ofc!mia pradera (written in second person, no body descriptions)

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: Javi wasn't expecting your return after years, he also wasn't expecting to see you naked through his bedroom window.

warnings: javi secretly peeping into your room through the window, male masturbation, thoughts of oral, age gap, javi showing signs of depression, grief, brief mention of drug use

a/n: welcome to the new and improved first chapter of the series! I've been reworking this for a week now and decided to repost it. There's a lot that has been changed and added so I highly recommend reading this one before going forward. The second chapter will be coming soon (and I mean it this time lmaodfvd) I'll be making the other version of the first chapter private and I'm hoping you guys will enjoy this version as well 💜💜💜

Special thank you to @emilianamason who beta'd this for me and also helped me out with the Spanish bits, I'm truly grateful so thank you once again 💕

***dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

prev / next

The sky is a matte gray. It reminds Javi of the sea when there’s a storm raging underneath, the sand lifting from the bottom and giving the beautiful blue a more mud-like color. He sees crunchy leaves and smells cinnamon. It’s fall alright. He always finds this time of year a bit somber but in a romantic way. He’s holding a cup of espresso, the dark liquid still steaming. The pool has been drained for cleaning.

He can hear clatter coming from inside the house, mattresses are being flipped, apple pies are being baked. He’s the only man that lives here, yet everyone who works here spoils him, even if they don’t need to. No one really says anything but Javi can see it, the way they walk on eggshells around him, the conversations that fade into hushed whispers that carry the same lilt of his name.

Everyone treats him as a child. Not that he can blame them. Javi gave them little reason to behave otherwise. He did drugs, knew how to shoot a gun, and was the son of one of the most powerful men but still. . . he was a child in the sense that he knew little of the world. He wasn’t like Lucas who was more than eager to get his hands dirty.

A gentle child, that was what his father called him when he was young. He always uttered the words gently. Yet, hidden within his gentle expression but in his eyes, Javi could see the disappointment. He wanted a partner. Someone who did more than looking over the olive oil and wine business, it didn’t matter if Javi was good at it, his father wanted more of him.

In the end, he doesn’t mind the pampering—he’s grieving, isn’t he? He deserves it. He had no one else to take care of him, and the staff had been with him for years. He feels closer to them than Lucas. When his cousin mentioned taking over, Javi didn’t care. Not in the slightest. They were close enough that Javi didn’t have to worry about being killed or thrown out.

Besides, Javi enjoyed the finer things in life, which is why he didn’t mind overlooking the “front” of the job. He made sure that everything ran smoothly and Lucas seemed impressed by the growth of the business. Javi hated to admit it, but he did enjoy seeing that faint shimmer in his cousin’s eyes. The look that said; Oh, he’s not completely useless after all.

Besides, Javi enjoys sampling the wine. He adores the sourness that hits his tongue with every swallow.

“¿Discúlpeme señor?”

He takes a sip of his coffee.

“¿Si, señorita Pradera?”

Javi turns to look at her, a little smile playing on his lips. Lucía is one of his favorite employees and one of the ones that can read him like an open book. She’s a natural mother, a caretaker. Whenever he’s down on himself, she never once hesitated to pick him back up. It didn’t matter if he was shaking from going overboard on LSD or if he was crying during Paddington 2, she was there. It was nice to be taken care of. Something he couldn’t receive from his own family— maybe once or twice from his father. Javi didn’t know who his mother was, there was a lot of speculation about that.

Lucía just makes him happy. Talking to her feels like something light. He doesn’t need to overthink it, and if he says something wrong, he could always come and apologize. She never held a grudge. But despite how cheerful she seems, in her eyes, Javi can see the soft waves of sadness. Sometimes he saw the same waves in his own eyes, telling him that he was disappointing someone somewhere, that he’s done too many mistakes to turn back from.

She seems to be genuinely happy this time, her cheeks slightly flushed, forehead and cheeks glistening with a sheer coat of sweat.

“Do you remember, Mia?” she asks. “Mi hija.”

That’s right, Lucía had a daughter. Javi remembers you running around before you left to live with your father in the States. She often mentioned your name and sometimes she left to visit her but Mia never came. He isn’t sure if it was the father who didn’t let her or if Mia herself didn’t want to come, but regardless, Lucía was hurt by being away from her daughter for so long.

"I wanted to ask if my daughter could come para una visita. She's done with university y necesita un lugar to relax, figure things out."

He takes another sip of his coffee, it’s finished now. A leaf slowly spins down from above, the sunlight gently filtering through its translucent veins. It lands gently in the empty pool.

“¡Pero claro que si!” he says, and smiles. “When is she coming?”

“Next week.”

Javi was sitting on the terrace when you arrived.

He has a small plate of olive oil with thyme placed in front of him. Tearing a slice of bread into two, he dips a piece into the aromatic blend and brings it to his mouth. Javi only bites the part drenched in olive oil, he savors the taste, the sharp taste of dried thyme hitting his tongue. Shortly after, he goes for a second dip.

When he’s done chewing, you’re already at the top of the stairs.

You have no luggage, only a large backpack that slightly pulls your body back. Javi recognizes your face, the soft features he’s grown accustomed to when you were trailing behind your mother, asking to watch a movie on the big screen. You look more mature now, the corners of your face sharper yet still carry that roundness.

You’re staring at him as if he’s a long-lost sibling, your smile bright and wide. The expression is contagious, making him smile wide as well. Your gaze reminds him of a look he’s only seen in movies, the close-ups that sole purpose is to show the fondness in a person’s eyes. He’s not sure what he feels about that fond look in your eyes. Your gaze is incredibly soft and affectionate for a person who has been in the air for god knows how long—which is why he’s usually flying people in instead of the other way around.

You can see right through him, he thinks, nerves crackling with an uncomfortable feeling. It makes him conscious about how broken he truly is, his mask hardening the longer you smile.

“Javi!” you exclaim, arms opening wide. Not knowing what else to do Javi mimics you and wraps his arms around you. You giggle into his chest, your breath warm on his chest. “¡Te he extrañado!”

He missed you too.

Javi's ear catches the trace of an accent in your Spanish.

You smell of cheap coffee, chocolate, and the airport—and also a little bit of sweat, which is normal after such a long flight. Javi squeezes you once and feels you melting against him, you really must be tired to become so plaint under his touch. Swiftly, he releases his grip, yet your palms find solace on his shoulders, causing him to awkwardly flex his knees in order to accommodate the lingering touch. He wasn’t aware of how close you were standing. Your breath mingling with his own as your eyes dance along his face, taking in every worn-out detail.

You suddenly pull your hands back, a bashful chuckle slipping past your lips.

“Sorry about that— I’m feeling a bit jet-lagged.” you rock back and forth on your heels, anxious energy overwhelming your nerves. “How have you been?”

Javi stands still, eyes slightly wide, not knowing how to answer such a question. Physically, he feels good. Mentally, also good but he isn’t sure. He’s fine during the day, his routine occupying his mind enough so that he doesn’t register the loss. His father wasn’t around that much anyway. But when night fell and he laid his head against his overly fluffed pillow. . . that’s when he remembered. His chest ached, his eyes stung. He didn’t know how to deal with it so he remained silent, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Sometimes he even gets angry trying to muster up an answer.

He can never get angry with you though, besides you had no idea of knowing. His tongue nervously swipes over his bottom lip and his teeth dig into the inside of his cheek. He’s about to answer, say he’s fine, but you beat him to it.

“God, I’m being such an ass. Of course, you’re not okay,” you murmur more to yourself than him. He still hears you though and your words catch him by surprise. You softly hit yourself in the head, which makes worry roll down his spine. “I’m really sorry about your father, Javi. My mom told me. That must’ve been hard for you.”

Has it been hard for him?

Honestly, he’s not sure. His death, his funeral… it all passed by in such a blur. He remembers his father dying slowly, in an expensive hospital bed with flowers by his side. Javi doesn’t quite remember the rest. He doesn’t remember the funeral, the moment he was gently laid into the earth, never to be seen again.

He does remember feeling Gabriella’s hand on his shoulder. He also remembers Lucas standing close to him, his eyes watching the casket go down.

“I am okay,” he takes the hand that you’d hit yourself with, thumb slowly moving over the soft planes of your hand. He smiles when you let out a sigh of relief and turns his eyes to the empty chairs. “And thank you. I have been doing better. Why don’t you take a seat, you must be tired. I will call your mother for you.”

He watches as you take a seat and after a brief phone call to Lucía, Javi sits down as well. He asks what you’ve been up to, about your life in America after you’d moved away from your mother. Briefly, Javi sees a hint of hesitation and regret pooling in your eyes. He doesn’t know much about why you left, he only remembers that you were young back then, just a kid basically.

Javi manages to ease your thoughts by slowly sliding the basket full of bread and the small plate of olive oil toward your way, saying that you should eat. Only after the first bite you being to speak freely, telling him how hard university has been and that the competition was rough and had drained you out, making you feel like a shell of a person.

“You’re not a shell,” he answers, brows drawn together. You smile between bites of oil-soaked breath, shooting him an appreciative smile.

“You’re still the nicest man I know,” you say. Javi’s not sure how you could’ve drawn that connection, he doesn’t remember doing anything to gather such an observation but takes the compliment anyway. “I had a troublesome professor. He really did a number on me mentally, I like my field but I really want to do something else with my life.”

“And what is that?” he dips the leftover bread into the last pools of olive oil. “What do you want to do?”

"I yearn to weave tales," you express with a melodic lilt as if addressing an audience, then you laugh. Javi feels like he’s watching his favorite painting come to life, raw and vivid. “Sorry, that sounded snobby of me didn’t it?” your tongue pokes through your cheek. “I want to write a book, create screenplays, and even directing—I want to do it all. That's why I'm so happy mom called me here. It's such a beautiful place to think about big things like that, you know? And well. . . "

You trail off and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re here too, which is nice. You still like watching movies?”

“Of course,” he answers, feeling the tip of his ears growing warm. “You know that I take my movie-watching very seriously.”

You’re grinning now, “I do. I think you might be the one who introduced me to the media actually. We watched movies at home but here. . . ” you sigh, eyes taking in the scenery. “Here it felt magical. And I loved the endless movie facts you seemed to have stored up in that brain of yours.”

“You flatter me,” despite himself, he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It’s nice that you want to direct.”

“That’s only one of the things I want to do,” you say, stuffing your mouth with the last bit of bread. “But yeah. I know it’s a competitive field, some parts of it are downright evil, but it just calls to me. Imagine someone watching your story, isn’t that exciting?”

Javi's mouth momentarily opens, then promptly shuts. Yes, it is exciting.

Suddenly your brows furrow, your gaze meeting his as you swallow, “Didn’t you want to write a script as well? I remember you being really into Nicolas Cage.”

His lips part again but the words die on his tongue. He’s surprised that you remember so much about him. In all honesty, Javi does remember the movie nights he had with you before you left—But it definitely wasn’t anything inspirational. During the many boring, work-related dinners, he would find you crouched behind the wall listening, watching your mother, clearly bored out of your mind. He asked if you wanted to watch a movie one night, and you said yes. After that, it became a habit. You would come to him, tugging his sleeve and asking to go to the cinema room. He happily indulged, of course.

Javi doesn’t remember the first movie he played for you, but he does remember the second one; Raising Arizona.

Thankfully, your mother's animated voice swiftly dispels the silence that was dancing on the line of turning awkward.

“Mia!” Lucía's attempt to reach her daughter almost resulted in a tumble down the stairs. She catches herself midstep. “¡Estás aquí! How was your flight?”

“¡Mamá!”

Javi watches them hug, an uncomfortable yearning stirring in his gut. In a tearful embrace, Lucía holds you close, squeezing her daughter tight.

Javi wanted to talk more about films, ask about your favorite actors, he wanted to hear your stories. He seems to be invisible to them now, not that he blames them. Just in case one of them catches his wistful look, he forces a smile.

They climb up the stairs, mother and daughter. Javi catches fragments of Lucía's voice, softly describing the breathtaking view from your room. A feeling he can’t place tugs gently at his heart and whatever it was, he keeps it hidden beneath his quivering smile.

Javi stares at the now empty basket and plate. He sees only crumbs. The chair you were sitting in is pushed back, misplaced, forgotten. He picks up the plate and basket, slides the chair back into place, and heads up the stairs, making his way to the kitchen.

Javi is laying on the bed, the sheets cozy and warm. A book rests delicately between his broad palms but his mind is elsewhere, the words only mere shapes inked on paper.

He’s thinking of you. How full of life you are, how you still have ambitions– Your life full of undiscovered paths, he envies it. He envies the hope, the excitement, the illusion of choice. He’s happy for you, of course, but he can’t help the wistful beating of his heart. He had responsibilities since the day he was born. Javi is aware that he’s a privileged man. He’s not going to pity himself in thinking that he isn’t. He got what he wanted, but he also heard an earful about how he was wasting his life on silly things. That he should focus.

Focus on what? He always wanted to ask. He didn’t see why he couldn’t indulge in his hobbies and the business that was forced upon him. In the end, his father’s greatest fear came true, Javi has no interest in taking over. The family patriarch never said anything but it was clear to Javi that his father was disappointed.

A soft, gentle light catches his attention. It pours through the expansive, elegant windows adorned with ornate square bars reminiscent of wrought iron. Closing his book, Javi assumes a sitting position, his socked feet firmly planted on the cool floor. His interest is piqued. Normally, no one stays in the building across from him. It was usually reserved for family visits.

What happens next is an accident.

Or perhaps it is a blessing disguised as an accident. He’s undecided.

Javi sees you, towel loosely wrapped around your figure, hair still dripping wet. His mouth goes dry, eyes wide as he stares, unable to tear away his darkened gaze. Compared to when he first saw you today, your walk is slow, languid. You stand at the side of the bed and clumsily free yourself of the tight clutch of the fluffy towel. Dipping your head, you cradle the back of it with the towel and fold it in front, only to throw your entire head back, leaving you bare for all to see.

His cheeks become a shade darker, fingers uncontrollably twitching against his thigh. The muscle at the base of his stomach tightens, radiating warmth.

Did you know? Were you aware that he could see you? No, of course not. There’s no fathomable reason as to why you would want him to lay his eyes on you. Javi holds his breath. He should say something, should he not?

Briefly, you disappear from his eye line only to reappear a short moment later with two bottles of —what he assumes— lotion in your hands. His cock hardens as you slather your body with lotion. He swears he can smell it. A delicate scent that carries notes of daffodil and vanilla. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Warm honey drips down his spine, forcing goosebumps to appear over his skin. He hates that he’s still watching.

He knows what he'll see if he was brave enough to look down; the telltale bulge of arousal within the front of his sweatpants. He can feel it twitching angrily, tempting him to reach down and take it in his hand and give in to the pleasure that would undoubtedly come with it.

Why the fuck is he still watching?

You start applying the lotion from your legs, going all the way up to your thighs. You massage it sensually into your skin, fingers spread wide as you lean down and pull yourself back up. Javi’s stomach churns, his own hand sneaking under the waistband of his sweats. He wraps his fingers around his thick cock, thinking how fortunate it was that he skipped wearing boxers before bed.

His shirt sticks to his skin. His chest heaving as he begins to stroke himself, the pressure of his hand makews his eyes roll back. His thumb swipes at the slit, spreading the precum all over the length of his cock. A groan echoes from the back of his throat. His hand is moving with ease now, tenderly gliding up and down his hard cock.

His teeth clenched tightly together, Javi’s eyes flicker back to the window. Your hands slide up your stomach and over your breasts, they bounce perfectly as gravity tugs them back down. You spread the lotion over your chest and neck. His hand moves faster. He slightly hunches forward, hips jerking as if he’s actually fucking himself into you.

His mouth opens in a silent moan as his fingers grip the base of his shaft. The sensation builds until his spine is aching for release. His hips buck against his hand and his thighs clench as the pleasure courses through his veins.

Javi imagines the soft moans he'd hear coming from his mouth, your lips wrapping tightly around the tip of his cock. His body tenses at the fictitious swirl of your tongue, tantalizing flexing with each stroke that takes him closer to the edge. With each thrust of his hips your body would grind against his leg, he’d feel you quiver. He thinks of the slickness of your saliva sliding down his length as you suck him dry. You’d squeeze his hips with both of your hands. . . it feels like electricity shooting through him. He wants to feel you against him, feel the heat of your skin, and kiss you senseless.

He cums hard while you’re getting dressed, his jaw lax as he thrusts fervently into his fist. His sweatpants cling to him like a second skin. He can feel the sticky mess inside as it pools in the fabric, disgusted by the warmth of his own body as it wraps around him. There’s a short second where the urge to throw up consumes him, he thinks about running to the toilet, emptying everything out to trick himself to believe that it never happened.

But it did.

The lights of your room fade away, only the moon left to kiss away Javi’s concern. His legs tremble and ache as he gets up. Pleasure still licks at his body, making him want more. His soft cock is uncomfortable trapped under his sweatpants, throbbing and aching despite the events that just transpired.

Javi grabs a new pair, this one thinner than the other and heads to the bathroom.

Javi jolts awake to the sound of a loud knock. Groggily, he rises from his bed, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes with a loose fist. Another knock follows, causing a small, annoyed growl to escape his chest. He reluctantly opens the door, his eyes half-lidded, only to find a familiar face on the other side that leaves him momentarily dumbfounded.

Memories of the previous night flash through his mind, and suddenly he becomes acutely aware of his morning arousal, discreetly straining against the front of his sweatpants.

“Mia?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

He notices the set of clean towels in your hands, but his attention is captivated by the way your eyes sweep over his body, your lips forming a mischievous smile. Confusion tugs at his thoughts while a gentle, chilling breeze infiltrates his room, leaving his abdomen colder than usual.

Oh.

OH.

He doesn’t have his shirt on—shit.

“Looking good Señor Gutierrez,” you tease, eyes going over his body one more time. “Mom told me I should help around, so I brought you your clean towels.”

“Ah,” he says stupidly. “Gracias, querida. I hope she is not working you too hard.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you shrug. “Besides, I’m staying here rent-free. I might as well do a bit of work.”

He takes the towels, his hands feeling oddly disconnected, as if they belong to someone else. You flash him a final smile before pivoting on your heel. Javi watches with undeniable hunger as you confidently strutted away, his eyes admiring the way your hips sway as you saunter off. He feels the familiar stirring in his body, his cock demanding attention that he can’t give in the middle of the hallway. He continues to gaze until you vanish into one of the many corridors.

His throat feels unbelievably tight as he closes the door and heads to the bathroom. Javi feels a flock of birds pecking at his brain, reminding him of Prometheus. He doesn’t know what he should be feeling. The only thing he does know is that he shouldn’t be thinking of you in such a way.

Javi stares at his reflection in the mirror. The whites of his eyes are stained red, the bags underneath prominent and dark. It looks as if he hasn’t slept in years.

A deep sigh escapes his lips as he undresses. He won’t be seeing you like that again anyway, there’s no point in dwelling over something that only happened once.

Javi had underestimated how frequently he would be seeing you around. Your gaze is constant. He knows you’re watching him without actually having to look; his skin tightens, the back of his head starting to tingle. You’re mostly doing chores and don’t stop to chat with him, which he’s grateful for. But still, from your gaze, he senses that unlike him, you do want to talk.

The guilt is eating him from the inside out. Your naked form is engraved into the back of his lids, whenever he closes his eyes, he sees you. The sting of his eyes is constant, aching for moisture. He can’t fight against it and blinks, and as soon as he does, his cock grows hard.

Lucía would be furious with him if she knew—she’d be absolutely disgusted.

He worries that you might’ve seen him last night. Maybe that’s why you wanted to stop and talk with him. Fortunately, the mansion is spacious enough to provide him with hiding spots, allowing him to retreat when needed.

With each passing hour of the day, his uncertainty and guilt fester within him like poison.

He hurries to his bedroom as soon as dinner is over. Normally, he would have a glass of wine, engage in conversation with the staff, and unwind. However, not today, not with you present. . . observing him. . . talking to him.

He just can’t.

Javi ignores confused glances directed at him and excuses himself. The looks linger as he walks away, though there’s a probable chance that he might be imagining it. He’s convinced that you and your mother are both counting his every step. He doesn’t turn to check.

When he closes the door to his bedroom, back pressed snug against the wood, his breathing becomes strained, lungs rattling with every struggling gasp of air. His pupils blown, his gaze immediately flickers to your bedroom window. Much to his relief, and disappointment, the lights are off.

Javi settles onto the bed, the watch on his bedside table ticking away, drawing closer to the time he had seen you naked yesterday. He finds himself waiting until the hands of the clock reach the exact same moment. The lights are still off. Another minute goes by.

Then, finally, a beam of light that comes from a far pours through his windows, shadows stretching across the floor. He can breathe again.

Standing in the middle of the room, you stretch, your arms seemingly reaching for the sun. Javi’s gaze follows your every move. He watches as you scroll on your phone for about five minutes on the bed. He watches as you disappear, leaving him to stare into an empty room. He watches as he swears he can hear the music that you’re blasting from your phone.

He watches and waits until he can see you again. Just like the day before. Bare. Soft.

His mouth waters, cock already throbbing with need.

Javi’s not sure how long he waits. It could’ve been an hour or a minute, but whatever time had passed, you appear once again, the same towel wrapped around your body.

His mouth dry, he swallows hard. Javi's breath catches in his throat as his eyes drift over your curves. Unbidden, his hand moves eagerly to his crotch, eyes fixated on you as he palms himself. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips as you shift onto your stomach. Your towel slides up, revealing the perfect mounds of your ass, and he gulps, his fingertips trembling as he hastily unzips himself. A moan escapes him as he admires the lobes of your ass peeking from beneath the towel.

Precum already oozes from the tip, and Javi eagerly wraps his fingers around his hardening cock. His strokes are slick and smooth, his breaths coming faster.

Javi hears the rush of blood pounding in his ears as his breathing grows even more jagged with every passionate thrust of his hips. You lift your legs, spreading them apart and crossing them from side to side while watching a video from your phone, completely unaware. His hungry gaze is met with the entire expanse of your body exposed only to him as small water droplets still cling to your skin, cascading down your legs and wetting the area between them. The sinful image of your pretty pussy becoming wet and glistening spurs him on, he imagines how wet you’d be, only for him.

He pushes his hips harder against his fist, the need to feel connected to you driving him forward. His pounding heart is accompanied by an unquenchable craving to touch and explore every inch of your body.

Javi’s grip tightens and tremors start to run through his body. His head drops back as his movements quicken, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. With a deep moan, his muscles coil tight as the pleasure cascades through him, a warm rush flooding every inch of him. He shudders joyfully and with a final thrust, he coats his fist in his own release.

His face is contorted in a blissful expression, his eyes closed in reverence. Drops of sweat slowly trickle down his toned body, drawing paths through the smattering of light brown hair that adorns his tanned skin. His lips are slightly parted as he drinks in the pleasure, a low moan coursing through his lips.

With half-lidded eyes, Javi’s gaze drops down to his spent cock. He made a mess of himself and the floor underneath, the pearly droplets glistening in the soft light.

He’s going to have to clean that.

The guilt comes rushing through. He’s disgusted by himself, the feeling tasting of bile that is thick on his tongue. It felt good at the given moment but now that his head is clearing, what he did just makes him feel sick. He’s quick to wipe the floor with one of his shirts, then tosses it into the laundry basket for cleaning.

Javi gives you one last glance before leaving the room, you’re still on your phone, completely oblivious to him.

He decides to stay in one of the guestrooms that night, but it doesn’t stop with one.

Javi stays there the next night, and the next—

And the one after that.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What— No, why would you think that?”

Javi was lying, of course. He’d been avoiding you like the plague, turning the other way whenever he saw you approaching him. It's been about a week since he changed rooms. He didn’t tell anyone about it, the house was big enough for him to occupy another room without anyone knowing.

However, he hadn’t expected you to actively seek him out, which he now realized was stupid of him. He just wanted to do a bit of skeet shooting, a means to vent his frustrations. The morning was chilly and it made goosebumps rise across his skin. He enjoyed the feeling, which was why he skipped wearing a jacket.

You, on the other hand, were covered from head to toe.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself. A faint cloud dances from your lips. “Maybe it’s just me being paranoid. You really don’t mind me being here, right?”

Javi gently leans the gun against the sturdy stone rail. His heart clenches at your question, he never wanted you to feel guilty, or for you to feel unwanted. He slowly shakes his head, his gaze rising up to meet yours.

“Por supuesto que no,” he responds, his voice quivering, the biting air seeming to grip his vocal cords as he struggles to express himself. Of course, he doesn’t mind. “You are free to stay here as long as you wish. I just…I have been—”

He chokes up, mouth gaping, his gaze still fixed on yours. You're the first to look away, shifting your eyes elsewhere, and instinctively, you hug yourself tighter, trying to ward off the chill in the air. A nervous laugh escapes your lips.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, at least, not if you don’t want to. I’m always happy to listen. I just wanted to be sure if I was overstaying my welcome or not.”

“It’s okay. As I said, you are free to stay.”

You smile at him then, asking him whether or not he'll be joining you for breakfast, he says that he’ll come after taking a couple more shots. You eye the rifle, eyebrow raised in a peculiar way. You state that it’s too cold and head inside. Javi stares as you leave, he decides not to shoot anything, instead, he follows you to the dining room.

Javi moves back into his room that night.

You had excused yourself early claiming that you felt dirty and needed a shower. Javi couldn’t help it. He waits, like always does. A week of not seeing you made him grow hungry, his body was left in a constant state of wanting. He needed to see you, he needed to cum while witnessing your naked body.

This time he has no shame in ridding himself of his pants, wrapping a hand around himself, he lazily strokes himself. He still remembers every curve and crevice of your body, it haunts him day and night, decorating his dreams and nightmares alike. Javi’s eyes travel along the windowsill of your room, the lights are still off, much to his surprise.

He’s startled as the door slams open, a triumphant “I knew it!” ringing out.

With panic, Javi attempts to pull up his pants but the stubborn fabric sticks to his legs instead, making him stumble forward and almost falls off the bed. Luckily, he manages to catch himself at the very last second, planting himself firmly on the mattress. He hears the door close, more silently compared to how it was opened, he finds himself staring at your shoes. He gulps.

“Why are you here?” he asks, voice horrified. “How long have you known?”

“Not that long,” you answer. He still refuses to meet your gaze. “I had my suspicions when you started to avoid me, then I noticed you switched rooms. One night I waited in my room to see if you were watching or not.”

Tears sting the corner of his eyes, he’s pathetic. Then, like a soothing oceanic breeze, he feels your finger curling underneath his chin, forcing his downcast gaze up. His cheeks flush at the soft touch. He expects you to laugh at him, but he finds a gaze of sympathy instead. You pull down his bottom lip and every bit of oxygen leaves his lungs.

“Lo siento, Mia,” he whispers.

“Está bien, I don’t care. I. . . I have an idea, actually.”

Wide-eyed, he looks at you with concern. Your thumb still lingers on his lip, he enjoys it there, he enjoys the comfort you provide despite his mind screaming at him how disgusting and pitiful he is.

“And what might that be?”

“We can. . . help each other out,” you answer, flustered, your breathing short. “If you want to, that is. I had a stressful year. . . I wouldn’t mind having some fun.”

His brows furrow, “I do not understand.”

Another lie. He did. He just couldn’t believe it to be true.

“I think you do, Señor Gutierrez,” you tease. His heart skips a beat at the playful lilt of your voice, his mind is racing. You squeeze his bottom lip gently and his breath hitches.

“I’m not—” he licks his lips, the tip of it touching the pad of your thumb. “I am not that experienced.”

This time his whole body burns. He had lovers in the past, of course, but not many. None of those relationships lasted long either, how could it with the family that he had? He wasn’t even sure what he liked or disliked, and after a while, he just stopped trying to form a meaningful connection with anyone. He closed up, not really knowing what else to do with the cards he was dealt with.

Your answer takes him by surprise.

“That’s okay. We can learn new things about each other, together.”

His heart flutters at the softness of your voice, the kindness of your smile. He parts his lips to speak, to tell you how grateful he is, but before he can, you drop to your knees, a sly smile stretching across your face.

“Do you want my help?” you ask, your fingers spread across his thighs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you give him a gentle, yet firm, squeeze. “Tell me what you want, Javi.”

“I would— I would love to feel your lips on my cock, princesa.”

“Princesa?” you repeat, amused. “I like the sound of that.”

He finds heaven between your lips.

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