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#and her skin is dark and absolutely beautiful <3
sherlock-is-ace · 1 year
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I'm in love with one of my OCs, I was drawing a full body reference for height ans body type and stuff and I gave her strech marks? She's a fucking godess!!
Look at her *q*
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lilbunnis · 8 months
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❛ ♡. header credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲. ❜
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★ ⎯⎯ aemond targaryen has always wanted someone as his own; and with him already having claimed his vicious mount vhagar, the queen of dragons herself--- what is there to stop him from claiming you, too?
author’s note᛬ heey! 🍓 so……this is my second time posting this particular story--- however, it was a long time ago & someone anonymously requested to read it again. happily, i offered to repost it for them (with the exception that i re-edit it since my style of writing has changed / improved!) … anyways, reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated. ♡ + both aemond & reader are equally unhinged. <3 mwuah !
warnings᛬ mdni! smut, dubcon [kind of… but trust me, it’s wanted], dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, coercion, manipulation, pussy whipped!aemond, breeding kink, cunnilingus, fingering, obsessive & possessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count᛬ 2.5k
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𝐎𝐇, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼, 𝐈’𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮.
aemond targaryen has always thought of her as his--- his to protect, his to care for, his to love; ever since he’d met her, he surrounded himself in her feminine presence, around her sweetness and innocence, keeping her close by and never letting her trail very far out of his sight.
unless, of course, it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d have one of his most trustworthy guards (loyal only to him) follow her around all day--- discreetly, of course.
however, during their short time apart, the one-eyed prince would be on constant edge; irritable and in a foul mood throughout the time that they were apart, not being able to trust anyone to truly protect his lady the way he knew he could.
oh, how he missed his dearly beloved so--- so much so, that the wayward prince was known for his brutal lashings and merciless beheadings (all a gift to his love) to all of those who merely breathed the wrong way in his proximity.
or simply, sweet gifts of pretty, sparkling sapphires and pearls.
still, he knew that she thought his temper and rage was charming, as she had once told him in that sweet, gentle little voice of hers, soothing his fiery temper as if she were the maiden reborn.
like his own little angel, so delicate, tender-hearted and mine, aemond thought.
sometimes, most of the time, aemond would just simply gaze at her, at her beauty, longingly; like she was the center of the universe and held all of the twinkling stars in the night sky.
most people wouldn’t dare to believe such a thing, but aemond thought it was cute when she learned something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new knowledge she’d learned from her septa with him--- even if he already knew, just to be able to listen to her sweet, angelic voice.
oh, and on those simple days, content to just listen to her babbling on about whichever subject she deemed of interest; he would lovingly hand feed her fresh strawberries, one by one; the ripest, juiciest and sweetest ones, listening as she breathily moaned in content as each one entered her pouty mouth.
meanwhile, as his little darling continued on about whichever subject interested her at the moment; the one-eyed prince watched in delight as the red juices dribbled down her chin, allowing him to quickly swoop in and kiss it delicately away, causing him to hum in content at the sweet taste.
whether it be from the strawberries themselves or the sweet taste of her skin, it mattered not to the prince--- because the next moment, he would drop to his knees and feast on her delicious, drooling cunt; burying himself right beneath her fluffy skirts as he heard her girlishly moan and whimper for him, as he continued enjoying the taste of her maidenhood.
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on lazy days, the prince will sit with her in his lap, one of his strong, lean arms wrapped snugly around her waist, most protectively; meanwhile, his free hand would slip beneath her fluffy skirts and play with her virgin, soaking cunt, teasingly stroking his long, calloused fingers through her wet, puffy folds.
seven above, and the sounds of her soft, breathy little moans, almost luring him to bend her right over the wooden table in the back of the library and rut into her like some wild, depraved beast, claiming her maidenhead as his.
‘twas almost too much to bear for the prince, knowing she was already his in body, mind, heart and soul.
he always imagined what she must taste like that day, right before he would feast on her cunny, almost to tease himself--- like freshly baked sweet tarts, spoonfuls of honey, strawberries…
late at night, while in the privacy of his own chambers, he’d furiously fuck his fist to the thought of burying his face between her smooth thighs once again, wanting nothing more than to taste and fuck her cunt with his tongue greedily; before he’d come so fucking hard in his hand, his seed coating the skin of his taut abdomen and dripping down his fingers--- sticky and messy and entirely spent.
sighing heavily, aemond would barely resist the temptation to exit his chambers and go straight to hers, knowing she’d welcome him with an open heart and open legs.
…fuck, what a waste of his seed, he thinks, for he could’ve pumped her empty womb full of his seed; fuck load after load inside of her, and come by morning, she would already be carrying his son in her belly.
rightfully so; she’s be so beautiful, so fragile, so obedient, a perfect little wife she’d be for him, indeed.
meanwhile, back in the library, aemond would continue teasing her little cunny, occasionally dipping the very tips of his fingertips into her little virgin fuck-hole, feeling how fucking tight she was for him, causing him to harden almost painfully inside of his leather breeches, right below her squirming, little ass.
like his very own wanton, silk street whore.
she continued to moan and whimper repeatedly; making him gently shush her with delicate kisses across her neck, spreading her dripping arousal all around her swollen bud, hearing her mewl his name like a prayer and grip the polished library table forcibly, watching her blissed-out face until she came all over his fingers.
when he made her come so hard with just playing with her little bundle of nerves, he had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure and whisper sweet praises into her ear, knowing how sensitive and needy she was in his arms, just after coming down from her peak and making her come so hard on his fingers.
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of course, the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to resist her--- and so, most nights, when aemond could no longer resist being away from her; the need to see her being just too much for him to bear any longer, he’d eagerly seek her out, knowing she’d be in her chambers, awaiting his arrival.
just as eager and wanton as he was, it seemed.
smirking, aemond chuckled softly, embracing her; “my sweetest, my darling, my little love--- fuck, i have missed you.”
he couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed to see her, to be with her, to have her.
always.
specifically, in the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible; fuck, he loved her so much, he didn’t ever want her to doubt his love for her--- he stripped them both of their evening clothes, his amethyst eye dilated and wild at the sight of her nude form.
during those private evenings, aemond had convinced her for him to claim her as his… fully, in the ways only a man could claim a woman.
with his persuasion, his silver tongue easily convinced her into saying yes; causing him to release a purr and claim her body multiple times that night, until she was a shaking, sobbing and sweaty mess beneath him, full of loads of his seed, while he held her tightly against him in his arms--- possessively.
uncaringly, the prince left all sorts of love marks all across her skin, kissing every inch of her soft, glistening skin that he could reach, suckling on her swollen, puffy nipples, knowing her plush breasts would soon grow heavy with milk for their many babes that’d come someday soon.
selfishly, just maybe; he could persuade his little darling for a taste for himself--- fucking hells, he couldn’t wait for her to grow round and fat with his sons!
insatiably, he would fuck his already hardening, leaking cock back inside of her sopping cunt, his and her own moans of pure love and ecstasy echoing off of the walls of her chambers.
however, even with all of the bliss and pleasure and love; still came her doubts and worries.
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his sweet lady, his precious love, his only girl--- was utterly terrified of someone finding out about their affair.
however, the fearsome, bloodthirsty dragon prince would always reassure her; whispering sweet words of his love and devotion into her ears, calming her by kissing her love-marked skin before he would fuck her squelching cunt once again with his cock, ploughing into her mercilessly, filling her with another load of his seed, until tears would stream down her blushy cheeks.
unable to stop herself, she’d let out the most feminine moans for him, not being able to control her sweet mewls from escaping her kiss-swollen lips, sobbing out deliriously as he continuously fucked her ruthlessly, uncaring of who heard them; for the one-eyed prince was too addicted to the taste of her and the pretty, precious sounds she made just for him.
it wouldn’t matter anyway, if anyone were to find out about their love affair--- aemond genuinely honestly couldn’t give a fuck if someone were to tell her lord father that her maidenhead was claimed by him anyone.
if anyone would dare to question his lady’s virtue or purity, he would cut out their tongues, before mercilessly killing them and feed their mutilated corpse to his mighty beast, vhagar.
aemond had always been a possessive man, especially when it concerned his sweet little lady, to the point that most of the noble lords and ladies of the court started to take notice; however, the fearsome prince paid them little attention--- nowadays, his only concern in life was his darling little bride.
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some days, when the weather was warm enough and the sun was shining brightly, aemond would take his lady on long walks around the red keep’s royal gardens, right after he finished his morning training session with ser criston.
as always, it was just the two of them, together; and while he watched her instead of admiring the pretty flowers that she seemed so smitten by, he couldn’t stop the tiny grin from spreading across his face at just the mere sight of her.
her, her, her.
his--- his lady, his woman, his wife.
there was a secret, hidden alcove surrounded by various cherry trees and gorgeous pink peonies, which aemond would often bring her to visit; it was almost as if it was their special spot.
then, without warning, aemond would gently press her back up against one of the trunks of the pretty, blossoming cherry trees, kissing her so sweetly, so passionately, so tenderly; it made her swoon and see constellations on the backs of her fluttering eyelids.
“marry me.”
suddenly, she felt as if her heart had suddenly stopped beating and she felt rather faint--- for a moment, her heart felt as if it had skipped several beats, because surely… her sweet aemond did not just ask the impossible of her?
again, aemond spoke.
“marry me,” he murmured against her soft, perfumed skin (that smelled of the lavender oils they’d previously bathed in that morning together) trailing open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive neck, causing a breathy whimper to escape her pretty, pouty lips.
instantly, aemond’s ears had perked up to the sound of her breathing that was quickening, his large hands roaming and grasping at her sides as if to soothe her sudden panic, enjoying the feeling of her womanly curves against his big hands, even through the silk fabric of her pretty, sapphire colored dress.
“hmm…no,” she drawled lazily, though her sweet voice was teasing, “—my father is suspicious enough already about all of the rumors going on about us…he doesn't ask, of course; i’m afraid it’s because he is too frightened of you,” she giggled softly, batting her long eyelashes up at the handsome prince.
aemond smirked, amused by his little darling.
“besides,” she continued softly, her usual sweetened voice saddened and aemond watched as his lady’s heart was visibly breaking right before his own eye, “—my father… he will arrange a betrothal for me soon and i must do my duty, as is expected of me,” she whispered, while gently twirling a few strands of her lover’s long silvery hair around one of her fingers, her face sullen--- like a little girl having her favorite treat taken away from her.
aemond hummed; a soft, dangerous sound as his face remained stoic, not displaying a single emotion that he was currently feeling--- his natural-born eye on the other hand…was a raging storm of a dark, angry violet, screaming promises of fire and blood.
“that'll never happen,” aemond murmured softly, his voice a raspy baritone, completely unbothered, “—if your father even dares to try and take you away from me, he'll suffer a most painful death; i assure you, my sweet lady.”
her heart fluttered, both of her cheeks heating up and her head began to feel fuzzy, a dreamy expression forming on her pretty face; though she wasn’t sure if it was from the warm weather or by his loving, murderous words.
“you're so sweet,” she cooed dreamily, smiling up at him as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck loosely, her fingers gently brushing through more of his long silvery hair, feeling how silky-smooth the strands were--- curtsey of the queen, his darling mother; a sweet gift of scented oils she had gotten for her favorite son all the way from pentos.
“only for you, my beloved,” the prince promised, tenderly brushing his knuckles along one of her rosy cheeks, bending down towards her shorter height and capturing her rouge-stained lips in a sweet, deeply passionate kiss--- a deep, throaty sound of lust escaping from him.
ah, she tastes of the sweetest of innocence and strawberries.
his favorite.
‘twas as if the prince could never get enough of her taste, of her.
sweetly, she releases a little whine, high-pitched and so needy for him; the sweetness of a poisonous kiss--- oh, how he wants to love her forever and bathe in all of the glorious love she had to offer him.
gods, he loved her… only, only, only her.
“my angel, so soft and pure, so innocent; and your precious heart… it is mine,” he growled, deepening the kiss against her lips--- his large, warm and calloused hands began trailing down to cup her sweet, little ass through her skirts, bundling the silky, sapphire colored fabric in his greedy hands to fondle and squeeze the soft flesh of her asscheeks; pinching and clutching possessively.
grinning wolfishly, aemond trailed his open-mouthed kisses down her delicate neck, suckling freshly new love marks into her fading, bruised skin--- all across her neck, jawline, collarbones and the very tops of her soft, perky breasts.
“marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient, though he wouldn’t mind begging, if it only meant claiming her for himself.
she wrapped her arms around his neck more snugly, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him sweetly, all across his chin and the corners of his mouth, feeling his hands roam freely all over her once more before settling still, giving her backside a loving squeeze.
“be my wife,” he pleads once more, his tone of voice more desperate than ever before, sweet as sugar and the burning flesh of corpses.
she released a small sigh, moving closer just slightly so that she could brush her saliva-coated lips softly against his own, “yes,” she breathed lovingly, feeling as he visibly shuddered against her just from her mere acceptance of his begging proposal.
“i’ve always been yours.”
fin.
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cordeliawhohung · 1 month
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Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.
The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.
So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️
(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)
thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3
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The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.
You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.
As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.
Put him back with the other model.
"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.
"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."
You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.
"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.
"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.
Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.
"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."
He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.
Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.
The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.
His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.
"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.
"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.
A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.
It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.
Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.
"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.
There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.
"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."
"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.
"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."
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starseternl · 28 days
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i. stardust; azriel.
synopsis : azriel x half-seraphim!reader. your first starfall with the inner circle, nerves dizzying you like wine. what's worse? watching your love for azriel go unrequited as he dances with anyone but you. but ... is it really unrequited?
warnings : mild swearing, insecure reader / comparing herself to elain, fast-paced emotions, rushed ending, unedited.
a/n : this is my first fic writing for acotar here so pleasee bare with me ( this is also unedited / not proof read, so i apologize for any mistakes ) <3 i hope i did azriel some justice :,) no huge warnings here, just fluff with a hint of angst in between. and absolutely no hate to elain !! she’s the loml tbh.
word count : 6,271
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Seventy years.
That’s how long you’d known Rhysand’s family. How long you’d known Azriel.
Seventy years, and yet, this was your first Starfall with them. After all, you had felt too guilty, leaving your boss – Madja – lonely on such a beautiful occasion. The woman wasn’t one for extravagant parties, and often stayed in as the two of you cooked together, much like a mother and a daughter would. Sure, it wasn’t much . . . And it certainly didn’t feel any different from your typical weekends. Yet, the warmth of the moment always had you savoring it. Madja was hard on you, but it was undeniable, the maternal instinct she seemed to possess.
But no amount of beef stew or spiced tomato soup could ever amount to what you felt now.
You stood before Morrigan’s bedroom mirror, unsure of what to do with yourself. Was that even you, staring back? Your eyes were wide, lined with kohl and a strange, silver paste, almost hidden behind your curled lashes. Your lips, parted in a small gape, were the color of aged wine – shining. Dark.
Tempting.
You wanted to congratulate Mor on the work of art she had produced out of you – but before you could utter another word, your gaze fell to the dress.
And, oh, was it breathtaking. 
Your bodice cupped your chest like it was molded to you, skin-to-skin, the velvet softer than anything you’d ever had the pleasure of feeling. The deep cobalt blue shifted in the light, almost like molten lapis, placing perfect emphasis on your curves, catching the glow of faelights in just the right spots. You’d never worn anything sleeveless before; you’d always thought them to look boring. But looking down past the sweetheart neckline, to the thick ribbon wrapped around your waist, lacing up your back, ending in that long, perfect bow … Even you had to admit it was a work of art. 
You lifted the satin skirts, peering down, wondering if –
“Don’t do that!” Mor playfully hissed at your side, swatting your hands down and away from the delicate material. “You’ll wrinkle it … I spent good money on this dress, you know.”
But you didn’t have the heart to banter, now. Your mouth felt dry as you gravitated towards the mirror, fingertips grazing its surface. “This doesn’t feel real,” you admitted with an exhale, so quiet that your friend barely even caught it. 
Her gaze softened a fraction, swiftly standing at your back, fingers adjusting the material lacing you together. Honestly, you were thankful they were there; it felt like the only thing keeping you from crumbling. You had been longing for this for years after meeting the Inner Circle. But, now? Coming to their little Velaris party made you feel as if you were officially one of them. Their friend, their family. 
You almost trembled as you – gently, this time – swept your skirts off the floor, taking small steps towards the door, making great attempts not to trip over the blonde’s brand new heels, the ebony leather so fine it barely cut into your flesh. She stifled a laugh at your poor attempts, offering you her bare arm to steady yourself. You graciously accepted, sheepishly gripping your billowing skirts tighter in your free palm. Not that you could admit such a bold claim aloud, but it wasn’t the shoes that had you dizzy. You had worn ridiculous heels many times in your life; boots, stilettos . . . This shouldn’t have been an issue.
Instead, what shook you was the knowledge that he would see you. You, in your sapphire dress. You, clumsily dancing for the first time in years. You, always embarrassing yourself. Always the fool.
The shadowsinger, your muse. He was so graceful, so lovely. Untouchable. Everyone could see that he deserved someone of pure light. Someone soft, like a blanket of warmth. Something you could never be, you supposed. For all you were good at was healing flesh wounds. You never knew how to navigate a faerie’s heart, how to soothe the cracks and wounds. 
A muscle ticked in your jaw as the two of you pushed Mor’s bedroom door open, your expression only relaxing as your friend let you go once you’d reached the great, spiraling staircase. The sisters, on the other hand, filed out of a room to the left – each one striking. Nesta in death’s black, ink dripping down every pore. Feyre, in a familiar shade of starlight silver, practically glowing with joy as she bounced little Nyx in her arms. And Elain . . . 
You felt a twinge of jealousy upon seeing how stunning she looked tonight. Mauve sweeps of tule and silk hugged her hourglass figure like it was art, the draping sleeves like wisps of petal. Her skirt fell to the floor in great volumes – she looked a bit like a flower, herself. You suddenly felt that confidence, blazing and bright, dwindle down to nothing but a spark. A new reminder that you were like her shadow. Pretty, but never enough to be seen, not while Elain existed. You bit down on your cheek to keep yourself from potentially hurling, stepping to the side in a swift bow as the Archerons passed, teetering down the staircase as one. Feyre had ordered you not to do so, as you were ‘family.’ Even so, you could never suppress the urge. 
It was pitiful of you, you had to admit. Elain … She’d never done anything wrong. Perhaps it was merely nature to blame another on your shortcomings, but even when that sinking feeling dove deep beneath your skin, guilt plagued and ate at your heart. Again and again she’d bake sweet cakes and cookies for you – again and again she’d bring you flowers, bright smiles. All because she knew you were unsteady, afraid. Yet you couldn’t stop. Not when Azriel’s gentle smiles only seemed to bloom for her sunlight. 
Only when you heard hushed chatter and laughs did you spring back up, sucking in a breath. You peered over the edge, stomach churning as you watched the shadowsinger transfixed by the doe-eyed female. How could you join them, now, when you realized you had no one to talk to? Cassian and Nesta. Amren and Varian. Rhysand and Feyre. Azriel and Elain. Even Mor had found her place beside a newly bashful Emerie. You had been hoping that Gwyneth would join you – but the Nymph stayed in the Library, tending to books with Clotho. 
Ripping the handrail, dark nails scraping, you quietly made your down, inch by inch, silently, in hopes no one would see, and –
“Oh, you sure clean up nicely,” came Cassian’s whistle of approval. You groaned, stopping halfway to the floor to dramatically hang over the railing. 
“Did you really need to do that? I was trying to be discreet,” you huffed, hands on your thinned waist. You quickly finished your descent, ready to knock heads with the male, his chest puffed out in rather unnecessary pride.
And you would have, if the weight of a certain gaze tore at your focus. Your eyes slid to Azriel’s, and for once, he didn’t shy away. He only watched, those smooth, pretty lips parted in something resembling awe. Elain glanced between the two of you, and for a moment, you could have sworn excitement – anticipation – flash in her lovely brown eyes. 
You practically floated towards the Illyrian, drinking him in. That dark hair, clumsily styled into a dark pool of voluminous strands. The way his white blouse – a shade you rarely saw him in – was ever so slightly unbuttoned, revealing hints of his tattoos. But what really caught your eye was the velvet blazer of deepest blue. An article of clothing that perfectly matched your gown. 
You, painfully, let your eyes drift to the blonde fae, raising your brows, as if you say, you did this? Mor only grinned, looping her arm through Feyre’s ignoring your inquiry. 
But, in the meantime, Azriel hadn’t stopped watching you, from the moment he saw you take the first step towards the hall. He knew you’d be wearing cobalt tonight. He had specifically asked Mor, in fact, smitten and riddled with nerves. But what he didn’t anticipate was how it made him feel. It was the same blue that shone in his siphons, and his heart stirred, a strange sense of warmth rising to his head and chest. It was as if you were his. His to hold, his to touch, his to kiss. His shadows danced, a wisp curling around your neck and winding through your hair, like a necklace. He could feel them giggling like children.
Before he even had the chance to get ahold of the shadows, you were already laughing with them, a finger gently coming up to examine your newfound jewelry. 
The male stepped closer to you, rose dusting his cheeks. “They seem to be in a good mood.” He watched you play with them, the one laying on your collar bones shifting to wind itself up and around your forearm, like a serpent, loyal to its mistress. “They like you, I mean,” Azriel clarified as you peered up at him. 
“How cute …” you murmured in awe, feeling them pulse against your skin. You met his hazel eyes once again, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “They’re beautiful.”
Beautiful beautiful beautiful. He couldn’t help the small, careful upturning that graced his lips as he let a million thoughts wander through his head. You’re the one who’s beautiful, he wanted to respond – but for the sake of his nerves, and yours, he held his tongue. Instead, he hummed, “We match, you know.”
Your eyes widened, as if you had hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Ah … Right,” your eyes widened, pupils dilating further, “I swear, I didn’t plan this. It’s a coincidence. If I knew you were already wearing blue, I would have asked to change – I don’t mean to steal your thunder.”
Azriel barked an uncharacteristically joyful chuckle, throwing his head back for a moment, the blush dusting his cheeks only glowing a bit brighter. Something you failed to see, eyes stuck to the arch of his throat, the way the muscles moved, his tattoos coming to life. “No,” he gently countered once he’d come down from the clouds. “I think it looks nice. You – we – look nice. Blue suits you.”
And as your lips curled, Azriel thought his heart may have stopped. Had he done that? Him? A sense of pride sparked in his blood, his shadows flaring in reply, still ever so unresponsive to their master. You could feel the way they seemed to shy against you, the dense air they washed over your skin warming – you could’ve sworn it felt like a flush. 
You were so enchanted with the creatures, with the peace they brought you; the way it washed over your senses, so much so that you completely missed the velvet-smooth voice that filled your ears. It was an effort to look up from the shadows – after all, you were more than content to sit right there on the floor and play with them all evening, dress and all. But nothing else mattered when a gentle shiver spread through your body, a silken sensation blooming at your shoulder. Your eyes narrowed to the  – albeit, gloved – hand that rested on your skin. You didn’t need to see the scars beneath, to know who it was.
Azriel gazed down at you with eyes so full that something in your chest ached in response, drowning under the waves of thousands of words unsaid. You couldn’t read them, each syllable too muddled, too deep to reach – but you knew something was there, lurking beneath those amber irises. “Could you repeat that?” you finally murmured, clasing your hands before you. Your tone was sheepish, the very admission an embarrassment. 
“I asked if you would save me a dance,” he clarified. You could hear it, the slight tremor in his voice. He was a master of physical arts, and his body didn’t often betray him – only you knew Azriel well enough to gauge the nerves in his words. “I know you have a duty to dance with Rhys, and Cass is going to snag you, as he does to every pretty lady. But I think I’d regret it, if I didn’t get at least one with you.” 
How could you say no? How could you be sensible, think of the consequences, when that stare was so sweet? It was a look you could never refuse, not even when you knew accepting would break your doe-eyed friend’s heart. 
Yes; you saw how Elain looked at him, how her rosy lips parted when he walked into a room. She sat up straighter beside him, seemed to speak louder. Like a star hidden by the mountains, rising into the sky to be admired by all. Around Azriel, the girl bloomed. And every hushed compliment from the Shadowsinger was a seed planted along that pale skin, growing until she could one day love herself as much as everyone else seemed to love her. It was shameful, to live off another’s joy … But watching how smooth they were together, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be loved by him. Selfish. You knew she loved him first, yet you craved him more than all else. You knew you had no right to want his touch, to crave him like air, but you did both. He was your air, yes – the kind that burned your lungs, coughing on stardust, too much to look at, blinding, suffocating –
“Yes.” 
The word came choked, pulling you from the waters of your mind. “Yes, of course,” you repeated again, softer this time. You were never a dancer, could never drift across the ballroom like shallow water. But with him, it felt different. Wings could sprout from your back – you could fly, when his spotlight was on you.
The male’s face seemed to relax with the acceptance, warmth spreading to his cheeks. You were in your own little world, a fragile bubble that you wanted to stay in forever … Until a louder, feminine voice put a pin in it. 
“Right, we get it, you want to tear each other’s clothes off,” Mor teased with a groan, red gown twisting as she faced the two of us, Emerie peeking out from behind her. “But I’m not missing Starfall because two insufferable idiots refuse to get a move-on. I’ve got things to do.” She winked, and with the click of her tongue, Rhysand nodded. Nodded – but you could see the smirk on his lips when his gaze fell on Azriel.
“As refreshing as this is,” he agreed, “we have a duty to make an appearance. Lest you want to be chastised by our people, I suggest we leave.” He had taken Nyx from the bundle in Feyre’s arms, bouncing the babe in his own large embrace. The boy was grasping at his fathers blue-black hair, pulling at the strands.
You brushed past the Illyrian to stroke Nyx’s head, cooing for the small child. Barely a toddler, and you could tell he’d grow to be as strong as – if not stranger than – his father. But it certainly brought no fear, often surrounded by the coddling of the adults around him. 
As a half-Seraphim, yourself, you were less on the … Territorial side. Your instincts were more like a soft duvet, contrary to Azriel and Cassian’s hammer-like tendencies. Thanks to this, the Night Court’s heir had grown quite fond of you – of course, not nearly as much as his mother and father, but you were a close third. You swept the black-haired boy into your arms, holding him at eye-level with you, his chubby fingers reaching for your pearls and jewels. “Ah-ah,” you tutted, a mock frown placed on your painted lips. “I know these are pretty, but your Auntie spent her hard earned money on these. You can touch when you’re older.” 
Nyx seemed to deflate with the rejection, and you almost felt guilty for the poor thing. His mother, donned in white, cupped his little face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his head. 
“Now, let’s not get pouty … You’ll perk right back up when you see the treats Elain made for the party,” the High Lady hummed. At the word “treats”, he seemed to glow once again, tiny wings flapping as Feyre took him back, bouncing him against her chest. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips, the scene painted perfection. You were glad to see your friend with such a loving family around her – she deserved it.
A cool breeze grazed your back and you strained your head to peek behind you, eyes drinking in a torso covered in black, white, and blue. “Let’s not keep Nyx waiting. He’ll grow impatient,” Azriel suggested, that quiet, smooth voice loud in your ears. You could feel his shadowed smirk, that silent humor. He reached a gloved hand out to you and your heart seemed to melt. Was he really asking to escort you? You slid your fingers between his, feeling the rough, charred skin mold to the tight fabric of the gloves. It was a familiar sensation, comforting. The nice thing about loving the Shadowsinger? You always knew. You knew it was him when he’d touch your arm, scarred fingertips all too easy to feel. You knew it was him when you saw shadows snake across the floor of every room, moments before you saw him. Mother, you even knew him down to that night-chilled mist and cedar scent. It blanketed you on drunken nights in which he walked you back to your room in Feyre’s estate, lingering even when you’d crawled into bed and fallen asleep like a rock. His hand tightened around yours, sliding his arm so it supported yours, linking your bodies together. Something about his shadows seemed more careful than before, like summer air. 
You supposed you wouldn’t mind if your hair got ruined if it meant Azriel got to fly you there. Mor could deal with it.
***
By the time the Illyrian set you on the pavement outside The Rainbow, you were already exhausted. Yes, you were a night owl – fitting for the court you stayed in – but the heavy jewels stuck to your arms, your neck, and the weighted material of your dress – it all had you wanting to sit down and doze off for a good few hours. You knew your feet would ache by the end of the evening. You could hear the booming music, the orchestra’s melody brighter than the stars, the cheers of Rhysand’s subjects as he led his mate and son down the stairs. You could almost picture it without seeing it then; the Lord and his Lady, glorious like the moon. 
You let the Spymaster set your hand on his, leading you down the steps, ebony wings never quite dragging as you followed him. You had wanted to thank him for the fly, an excuse to talk to him amongst the vast expanse of people –
But something else caught your eye.
The sky. 
Your lips parted in wonder, a sort of floating sensation spreading through your body. It was beautiful. You knew starfall wasn’t about the actual glowing dots in the sky, but the spirits, coming to visit in star-shaped forms. And you watched the large bodies descend from the pool of black, silently colliding with the streets of velaris, leaving the pavement sprinkled in glittery, illuminated substances. it painted the streets, the buildings – you felt like you were standing in a fantasy. things felt … peaceful. soft. 
“Pretty, aren’t they?” Cassian smirked from behind you, an arm slung around Nesta’s waist – much to her teasing dismay, as she mouthed a short “possessive baby,” to you. You nodded at the warlord, the corners of your mouth lifting … only for them to fall right back down when he added, “Yeah. They’re dying out every year. One day, they’ll be gone.” 
You gasped, brows dipping. Your stomach seemed to churn, your gaze on the spirits suddenly grew heavy, sorrowful. Your excitement died down to a sort of mourning. You knew you’d be alive another, what, five hundred years? More? Would they be gone by then? Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Nesta jab her mate in the stomach, scolding him for the sudden trainwreck of angst. 
You spent most of the party sitting around members of the court, sipping expensive wines and gazing up at the glass roof, coated in that glowing powder. You couldn’t keep your gaze off of it – not when Rhysand swept you into a waltz, his dancing skills smooth as you remembered from Under the Mountain. Elegant as the dark, night incarnate. He certainly lived up to the name, gliding across the marble floor with such ease that you almost slipped on your own two feet, practically being dragged around like a ragdoll. You excused yourself shortly, handing him off to his wife, who scowled when he seemed to pout, clearly enjoying torturing you, ever the brother-figure. You knew he’d be in it for a mouthful at home. It made you chuckle, even when Cassian took the chance to wrap his arm around yours, that boysterous demeanor louder with the consumption of so much alcohol. You could smell it on his breath, and see it in his sloppy dancing – and when he asked you to twirl him, the male practically playing limbo to try and fit under your raised arm. You sniggered, mocking his height – until those wings slapped you square in the face when he finally succeeded. You grumbled, excusing yourself to find a drink as his warm, hollering laughter followed you down and across the ballroom.
That left one dance owed.
Azriel.
It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to it. Quite the opposite, actually. Rather, it was that the shadowsinger was nowhere to be found. You knew he had the tendency to slip off into the security of his shadows during large gatherings … But what were you to do? It was nearly two in the morning, and things were coming to a close. Or, at least, the music was. It had grown softer, suitable for smalltalk and laughter, rather than dance and partying. 
Plus, Elain was missing, too, and for some strange reason, it made your skin itch. Was she with him? Had they snuck off alone, to admire the moonlight? You couldn’t blame them; she had looked lovely that evening. You admired her for it. You always had. She was there for you when others were not, an angel in disguise, fallen from the heavens. You hadn’t known the Mother was capable of creating a fae so perfect. Didn’t want to know. At least, not while it made you feel so … average. Good for nothing.
You gripped your arms, turning to gaze at your friends, huddled and chattering like a flock of birds. Radiant. Untouchable. Did you belong there, with them? Placed on a pedestal, to be admired and feared and loved? It had you wanting to hurl, a shiver making its way up your back. You swiftly jerked your head forward, heels clacking, feet aching as you slipped down a dark hall, relishing in the way the voices and music seemed to die down the further you walked. 
You reached a small archway, illuminated only by the bright moonlight, a small breeze leaking in through it. You stepped past the threshold, finding yourself on a familiar balcony – familiar not by memory, but by description. Feyre told you about it many times, about how she’d shared her first genuine moment with Rhysand there. You scoffed and shook your head, the irony lifting your mood. Leaning on your forearms, the railing cool on your skin, you let the wind ruffle – if not ruin – your hair, eyes fixated up. You’d miss it, when those little glowing shapes were nothing but a whisper of dust in the world. Despite being pissy at Cassian for soiling your spirits with the fact, you were also grateful, because it meant you could savor their presence just a tad bit more. 
“Feeling overwhelmed?” You instantly knew who that voice was. Without turning, you responded with a hum. “I needed a bit of quiet. You Illyrians can be insufferable.”
Azriel barked a laugh, the sound so genuine and rare that you felt your chest stir. He sounded like pure starlight, and you wanted to fall into it. “Maybe so, but I don’t see you leaving.”
“Because you fools would go batshit insane if I ever did.” I manage to roll my eyes, fighting back a love-struck smile. “What’ve you been doing all night? I thought you’d be more into the celebration. I know parties aren’t your thing … But I was told you adored Starfall.” Az considered, the material of his suit creasing. “Elain asked me to take her to The Rainbow’s gardens. We watched the spirits from there – better view.” 
Truth. You could tell by the way his voice softened, the corners of his eyes relaxed, his shadows hiding nothing. Your stomach dropped, as though you hadn’t seen it coming. Of course he was with Elain. When was he not? You pressed your lips together before replying, eyes dropped from the sky to your clasped fingers. “Mm. Had I known, I would’ve stayed outside … Cass and Rhys practically danced the soles of my feet off.”
You heard a deep, joyous rumble to your left. “Did Cassian step on your toes?”
I sighed dramatically, neck craning. “Obviously. And gave me one Hel of a nosebleed”
“I’m sure I could do better. I like to think I’m in control of my own body.”
You shook your head, lips twitching. “Finally offering me that dance you wanted?” I joked, lifting my skirts.
“You know I’m not one to break a promise,” came his reply, that dark smirk on the panes of his face. You giggled, turning to exit the balcony and make my way down to the ballroom. “Race you?”
Rather than complying like he usually would, the male caught hold of your wrist – gently, but hard enough that you halted. 
“Stay.”
Your heart couldn’t have thundered as loud as it did then. Heat rose to your cheeks and you turned your head to look at him – really look at him, for the first time in hours. And, gods, did you regret it. Flushed by the cold in the wind, hair disheveled, falling into his eyes … You were done for.
“Stay?” you parroted, head cocking to the side. “There’s no music up here.” Half truth; music leaked from below, but it was so quiet, our hushed voices could easily cover it. 
“I know. But if we go down there, we’ll be bombarded with those busybodies. I want it to be –” he shook his head, a glow rising to his cheeks. “Just … Stay.”
Your heart melted, shoulders slumping, the grip on your skits loosening as you faced him. He wanted you to be alone. Just the two of you. He may not have outright admitted it, but you could see it on his face, the hopeful shimmer in those hazel eyes, like honey. It was often like this, with you two; unbeknownst to your friends, your relationship wasn’t all teasing and joking. No – outside their gaze, in the shadows, the two of you oftentimes dwelled in silence together. You had trouble sleeping most nights, and came shuffling out of your room for milk and tea, a book clutched in your hands. And Azriel? His shadows simply never shut up. Sleep wasn’t much of an option for him. It became tradition, your nightly meet-ups on the roof of Feyre’s manor, laughing and indulging in Rhys’s good wine. It was the first time you’d seen the large man drunk, suddenly becoming needy and sensitive, like an oversized baby. 
You’d been staring at him a moment too long, eyes locked onto his parted lips, those flushed cheeks. Shaking your head, you finally turned your body, nearing him with a carefulness akin to approaching a wounded deer. “Okay,” you finally breathed. You knew you were a mess, so late into the evening. Tangled, frizzy hair, wrinkles on your dress. But little did you know, you’d never looked more beautiful to Azriel. 
Without another word, his hands were on you. They cupped your waist, guided your hands to his shoulders, with such grace that you swore he had experience. Maybe the Spymaster was a playboy, as strange as that was for a male of his kind. 
But all thought emptied from your head when he guided you by the hips so you were centimeters from him, face so close to his chest you could feel the warmth coming in waves. Could feel his shadows tenderly stroke your cheek, winding around your neck and shoulders like scarves. You couldn't even bring yourself to touch them, play with them – not while your hands were on him, feeling muscle shift beneath his skin and clothes as he swayed you, ease and relaxation working its way into his step. Even with no real music, no tempo, Rhysand and Cassian’s dances paled in comparison to this (not that Cassian’s had much appeal … That man was like an ostrich with a broken ankle on the dance floor). This, with those eyes gazing down at you with such peace. This, listening to his every breath, the way it seemed to catch when you moved to sling your arms around his neck, bringing you impossibly closer. This was what you loved most. 
You knew Azriel couldn’t go farther than touching a female’s hands without beating himself to a pulp – knew he ridiculed himself too much, as too afraid. Yet, something changed in him when he brought a hand previously on your waist to your head. It was by no means a harsh action, but rather something done with such softness that your heart fractured. He cupped the back of your head, fingers buried in the soft strands of your hair, and brought your head to his chest, letting you rest your cheek against the soft silk of his dress-shirt and blazer. You were no longer dancing – you were moving, like plants in the wind. But it was too intimate to be labeled a dance. You were simply holding one-another. Holding on to something you couldn’t quite place. 
“I’m … Glad I got one dance in tonight.” His voice seemed to vibrate across his body, sending waves down your cheek. You couldn’t see his face – not when yours was stuck to his chest, but you could hear something sweet in his tone. 
I huffed against the silks and cotton, inching back to get a good look at his expression. “You didn’t dance with anyone else? Not even Elain?”
He raised a dark brow, shadows swirling around his back. “Lucien would gut me if I dared to try.”
“Lucien isn’t here tonight.”
“Mm. Something Elain was awfully upset about. It wasn’t on my bucket-list, though.”
Surprise coursed through your veins, going right to your thundering heart. He didn’t want to dance with her? The female who was practically the belle of the ball? And she … Was waiting for Lucien. You couldn’t quite believe it, but you knew the shadowsinger wasn’t one for lies. For a spymaster, he was a terrible actor to anyone who knew him. He could lie to enemies, to his brothers when it counted. But otherwise, those cheeks would be dusted in pink, gaze practically oozing nerves. 
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from your throat. “Well, I am more than honored to be your first pick,” you teased, jabbing him between the ribs. 
But Azriel was unfazed. Where you had expected a laugh, there was only his heavy stare, his parting lips. “You’re the only one I ever want to dance with.”
Your heart seemed to stop its beating right there and then. Your throat, dry like sandpaper, seemed to keep so many thoughtless words as you could only stare up at him, quite aware of the heat rising to your face. You’re the only one I ever want to dance with. 
What the hell did that mean?
“I know I’m one hell of a dancer, but you need to give Rhys some credit, too,” you finally bit out, the breezy jest you’d intended to lead into your tone coming out strained, nervous. 
Azriel bit his lip, those shadows swirling to cup his face, his neck, peeking over the expanse of his wings. He was … Embarrassed. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, a scarred – and gloveless, you noted – hand reaching to cup your face – then stopping before it could reach the skin you so desperately needed him to touch. “I – you don't …” he huffed, raking those fingers through his hair. “You are much denser than Cassian tried to let on.”
Denser.
It hit you like an arrow to the chest, a zing of shock shaking you to your very core. Was this him confessing? You mindlessly blinked, makeup-covered lashes fluttering. The male you had been pining after for years wanted you. In retrospect, it made sense. He always sat by you, always did things for you, always protected you, first. But there was always an excuse to bypass the information like it was nothing. The way he once loved Mor, that he was simply a kind soul … Which was the truth, beneath the hard mask of the Night Court’s Spymaster. 
Then, Elain. But Elain wasn’t in the picture anymore, not when Azriel had just revealed her little affairs with Lucien. Not when he was admitting that this was all so, so real.
“Az –” you choked out, reaching for his hand, taking it in yours. His scars were warm, and despite how he refused to look you in the eye, his fingers clutched yours so desperately that you swore you felt tears well, burning you. “Are you trying to – do you … Fuck, this is hard.” You exhaled, a sudden wave of nerves hurling at you. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, where to look – and hell, he looked so pretty, with those rosy cheeks and messy hair. You opened your mouth to finally just say it, the words bounding up your throat, ready, and – 
Snap.
Your chest heaved, something missing for years, something hollow, suddenly full. Like you’d found an oasis in a desert, and you couldn’t waste even a single drop. You’d wondered since you were a child who your missing piece was. Who was tethered to your mind and body and heart, who was destined to be yours. 
“Mate,” his shallow, hoarse voice cut through the thick air like a prayer. 
All restraint snapped, all reason to be civil seemed to vanish as he cupped your face, thumbs running over your cheekbones. You could faintly see the outline of tears in the moonlight, coating his skin. Azriel, as you knew it, never cried. He never let himself cry, never even wallow in pity. Only that icy, silent rage. But seeing the emotion dripping down his face, all you wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was alright, tell him what you felt, that you loved him, to kiss him –
Just like that, his lips were on yours. 
Fleeting, soft – but, gods, it was perfect. You could feel the trembling of his movements as they parted, the taste of him finer than champagne, a cocktail of bittersweet anticipation and fervent affection. Your hands slipped from his, rising to loop around his neck as he fluttered against your lips, a butterfly’s kiss. A sigh, scarcely audible, escaped you, carrying with it the weight of endless nights spent yearning for that exact moment. Your fingers tangle in the inky strands of his hair, and anchor to reality, prayer that it wasn’t a dream. 
And even when you inched back for the breath that you were so bitter to need, the feeling of his touch lingered, his flavor coating your mouth, ever-present. You touched your forehead to his, and he didn’t mind that he needed to crane his neck forward to reach you. Not one bit – and especially not when you murmured into the night, meant only for his ears, a quiet “I love you.”
You felt it, the way he tensed in your embrace. Not in a defiant way, not something that spoke of regret for the moment you shared. But fear for something new – something unexplored. 
“I love you, too.”
You could have gone and cried yourself a whole new ocean right there and then, even at the price of Mor’s scolding as your makeup dripped down your cheeks. But was it your fault? You didn’t think so – not that it mattered. All you saw was him, even when your eyes went blurry and your heart seemed to burst.
Then – footsteps, a familiar male voice. “Do you think they’re fucking out there?”
“Cassian!” Nesta hissed, a slap ringing through the dark hall behind them. 
“He isn’t wrong …” Mor chirped, amusement echoing in each syllable. “Az looked like he was about to pass out when he saw her.”
Dear Mother. Of course your meddling friends wanted to stick their nose in your business. Indecent, perhaps, but you smiled all the same, rolling your eyes as the two of you listened to their ceaseless chatter.
“I think,” Azriel murmured, his wing curling around you, blocking out the moonlight and endless stars, “we should return before they start the next town gossip.”
“... Smart.”
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aemondsbabe · 24 days
Text
Duty & Sacrifice | Claimant Pt 2
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summary: your wedding to jace will happen whether you and aemond like it or not; even still, you know where you truly belong
pairing: dark!brother!aemond x sister!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, threats against jace, jace slander do not come at me you were warned, blood purest aemond like he's voldemort coded idk he loves that valyrian o neg, breeding kink, fingering, unprotected sex, piv sex, biting, brief hand on neck, possessive aemond, obsessive aemond, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 3.7k
a/n: big thank you to @rabbit-hearted for sending a request for more dark!aemond! i hope you enjoy!! dark aemond was a bit toned down in this one but he (and the reader) will be going unhinged psycho in part 3 uwu
gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🔪read part 1 here!
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“Oh, you look absolutely beautiful, Princess,” your lady’s maid coos over your shoulder while she finishes tying the laces at the back of your gown, eliciting a chorus of echoing hums and titters of agreement from the other women fluttering about your chambers. 
“Thank you, Kella,” you murmur, meeting her gaze in the mirror, your lips stretched into a thin, tight smile. Even in your periphery, the sight of the ivory dress makes your stomach turn and twist into barbarous knots and you quickly glance away. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that eats at your heart as you keep your eyes trained on the shelves beside the mirror, silently reciting the name of each book stacked on them over and over again, anything to keep your mind occupied. 
It only halfway works, just as it had every time before – every other time you stood in this exact same spot as the tailor measured and fitted your dress, as you discussed hairstyles with your maids, as you chose jewelry with your mother. Helaena had spent weeks, hours upon hours, sewing bead after bead into the alabaster fabric, creating intricate patterns of florals giving way to flames, and you could hardly bring yourself to look at it. 
If I don’t look, it’s not real. If I don’t look, it’s not real, the words, foolish as they were, echoed in your mind for the millionth time as your maids added final touches to your outfit – sliding your feet into shoes and clasping on various ornate jewels. 
“Should we finish the hair first or get the cloak on first?” You hear one of your lady’s maids ask another, somewhere off to the side. 
“Mm, I think the cloak,” another one answers; you can hear the doors of your wardrobe being pulled open, “Her tiara may get snagged otherwise.”
Glimmers of red from the small garnet gemstones decorating your gown create bloody splotches in your periphery as morning sunlight filters through your windows; your mind begins to wander again despite your best efforts and crimson quickly gives way to hues of sapphire. Absent-mindedly, you dig your nails into your cuticles as you recall that night. The events play out behind your eyes like they have time and time again in the weeks between then and now – the pin-pricked chill you’d felt from his gaze, the way his whispered promises made your heart ache with a confusing whirlwind of longing and dread, the way his hands had felt against your skin. The sound of your blood pumping wildly in your veins drowns out any other noise as his voice echoes in your head. 
“Prove your devotion to me, my Strong girl,” he had commanded, directing your attention to the hilt of his dagger. And you had, the memories of it make you shiver even now. 
You had.
But it didn’t matter because here you are, clad in an ivory gown that may as well be a death shroud for all the joy it brings you.
“Princess?” A little gasp falls from your lips as you’re hoisted out of your reverie and your eyes finally focus on Kella standing before you, matching cloak in hand. 
“My apologies,” you say, managing a little chuckle, “I’m not sure where my head was at.” 
“No trouble, Princess,” Kella smiles, waving a hand dismissively, “I’m sure you’re eager to get the day started, marrying a prince and all.”
“Eager, yes,” you sigh, forced smile falling flat the second she looks away. The back of your throat tightens when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and, for the umpteenth time today, you try desperately to ignore the urge to run – to sprint all the way to the Dragonpit, mount Silverwing, and go. Instead, you swallow down the sick feeling in your gut and compel yourself to be still as Kella drapes the cloak over your shoulders, the red silk underlining enveloping you in a sanguine veil. 
Just as she’s about to fasten it to the little ties at the shoulders of your gown, the doors to your chambers bang open, causing both of you to jump as your heads whip toward the sound of the noise. 
“Prince Aemond,” Kella says breathlessly, draping the cloak over an arm and curtsying politely. 
“Get out,” he murmurs lowly, violet eye not moving from yours as he stands at the doorway, arms tucked behind his back, “I wish to have a moment alone with my sister.” Your heart hammers so wildly that you’re amazed the sound of it doesn’t echo off the walls – that it doesn’t burst in your chest. 
You don’t miss the uncertain glances your maids give one another, though they ultimately nod their heads. A small chorus of, “Yes, your highness,” rises around you as they scurry from the room; Kella quickly drapes your cloak over the back of your vanity chair before leaving as well, the doors to your chambers closing behind her. 
Aemond quickly locks them, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips for a precious second as he does so, before turning to you. Your brows furrow as nervousness builds within you, nails digging into your cuticles as you desperately study the neutral expression on his face as he stalks toward you. 
“Don’t you look breathtaking, sweet sister,” his eye sweeps over your form as he speaks and you feel as if every ounce of air is pressed from your lungs when he gently grasps at your chin, angling your face up toward his when he comes to a stop before you. 
“How did you get in here?” You question, hating how feeble your voice sounds, how your heart slows the second he touches you. Your question is a valid one, though – your mother had taken great caution in the weeks following the night of your betrothal feast to keep you and your brother as separated as possible. 
He chuckles as he tilts your face to the side, exposing your neck. “Someone may have delivered an anonymous tip to Cole informing him of a supposed smallfolk revolt brewing in Flea Bottom,” you don’t miss the twitch of a victorious smile on his lips, “Of course, the Gold Cloaks had to attend to it – we wouldn’t want anything ruining such a… joyous day. Once they were gone, it was easy enough to slip from the Sept and make my way back here.”
“You’ve been planning,” his eye stays fixed on the ruby necklace clasped around your neck as you speak, though he hums in acknowledgement at your words. After another few seconds of heavy silence, you cannot help but huff and jerk your chin from his careful grip, “Did you come here to merely ogle at me or do you need something?”
“Mm,” he hums, narrowing his eye for just the barest of seconds, “There is something I need indeed, Strong girl.”
“Don’t call me that!” You snap, the little huff of laughter he gives only makes you more agitated. He turns his back to you and stalks over to your vanity; it’s only then that you see he’s holding a small box behind his back, “What is that?”
“Only a little wedding present,” Aemond drawls, violet eye meeting yours in the mirror as he runs his fingers over the soft ivory silk of your cloak; his nose twitches in disgust, the most subtle of movements that you’re sure only you are able to spot. 
“Can… can I see it?”
Another twitch of his lips, a little pulling at the corners, just enough for you to know he’s satisfied about something, makes your heart squeeze in your chest. Whatever game he’s playing at, whatever imaginary battle he’s thought up in his mind, he’s winning. 
Am I even fighting back? Do I want to?
Silently, he makes his way back over to you, each heavy step a nail in your proverbial coffin. He’s standing before you again, long hair spilling over the shoulders of his tunic like a pearlescent waterfall, held back from his face by two thin braids that join in the back. 
Finally, he opens the box, carefully sliding the lid off. Your lips part as you stare down at the contents, eyes as wide as the moon as it feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. 
“I had it made by the finest craftsman in the city,” he murmurs, eye gleaming with pride at your stunned reaction, “Do you like it, little one?”
“I… Aemond, I…,” you stammer, at a loss for words as you look over the necklace resting on a bed of soft cloth. Made from a breathtaking assortment of pearls, the attention to detail is immaculate; each milky white stone is threaded onto a fine silver chain, all leading to a gleaming deep blue sapphire in the center, framed by the figure of a small silver dragon. “I-It’s gorgeous, brother, I… thank you.”
“You deserve only the best,” he purrs, watching closely as you reach up and carefully run your fingers over the glittering stones, “Shall I put it on you?”
“I already have a neck –” You start, only for a loud gasp to rip itself from your throat as Aemond tears the ruby necklace from you, the delicate gold chains easily snapping and sending dozens of tiny rosy stones clattering to the floor. All you can do is gape at him, one hand grazing against the place on your neck where the necklace once sat. 
Meanwhile, your brother’s violet eye merely follows a few of the stones as they skid across the stone floors. “Pity,” he tuts, stalking around you like a lion would its prey before stopping behind you and meeting your gaze in the mirror. 
“Do you have any idea who that necklace bel–”
“I don’t give a shit about who it belonged to,” he hisses, reaching over your shoulder and grabbing your jaw, forcing your head to turn back enough to meet his heated stare, “All that matters is that you belong to me, not some sniveling fucking bastard who shall only bring you ruin.”
He stares at you for a second more as if trying to drive the point somehow further into your heart before finally releasing your chin, smirking at the little shiver that runs down your spine when he skims his fingers over your neck. 
Your eyes flutter shut as he delicately sweeps the hair away from the back of your neck before pressing a soft kiss there, only to trail more down the crook of your neck and shoulder; time seems to slow for a moment while you savor the feel of his lips against your skin and your chest tightens when he groans. 
He huffs when he straightens back up, like being apart from you, even if only by a few scant inches, is painful – a feeling you know all too well. Opening your eyes, you watch as he carefully clasps the sapphire necklace around your neck. The larger middle stone sits perfectly at the base of your neck, the rich blue hue sparkles beautifully against your skin. 
“Flawless,” he says lowly, gently kissing just below your ear before trailing his eye up to the floor-length mirror the two of you stand before, hands resting on your waist, “We look perfect together, don’t we, little one?”
Automatically, you nod your head, unable to separate your gaze from the mirror. He’s right, he always is. The two of you simply fit together – perfect compliments of the other. 
He smiles lazily over your shoulder and pulls you closer against him, relishing in the small gasp that leaves your lips as his length presses against you, already half-hard and wanting. “Yes, you and I were meant to be together,” he breathes, slowly pulling up the skirts of your gown, “You may be marrying that traitorous little cunt, but you’ll belong to me soon enough, sweet sister.”
Your brows furrow at that and you start to question him, ask what exactly he means, but before you can utter a word, a feeble, stuttering moan is wrenched from your lips instead. Aemond holds you steady, keeping one hand firmly around your waist, as the other fits itself between your thighs; you’re helpless to do much else than watch yourself fall apart in the mirror as his lithe fingers slip through your already drenched center.
A pleased hum reverberates against the side of your jaw as he presses soft kisses against your neck, ravenous eye glued to your chest as it rises and falls with sharp pants, your breasts heaving beneath the bodice of your wedding dress.
“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” your brother growls, swirling his fingers around your already aching pearl with practiced ease, “Swear to me that I am the only one who will ever claim you, sweet girl.”
“A-Aemond, I…,” you gasp, already having to fight through the fog in your mind to remain upright, much less speak, “Brother, please!”
“Swear it!” He snarls, biting harshly at your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. 
“I promise, I promise!” You quickly concede, the truth willingly spilling from you. You did not want anyone else, you never had – your gaze had been firmly set on Aemond for as long as you could remember. Your heart had soared with hope when Aegon and Helaena’s betrothal was announced, only for those hopes to be squashed when you were all but promised to Jace not too long after Aemond’s eye had been taken – doomed to a marriage built on regrets. 
Your older brother had felt the same from an earlier age still, always doting on you, even as a child. He loves Helaena, yes, but his heart had only been yours. His screams still echo in your mind – the only time he’d ever raised his voice at your mother, when he’d stormed into her chambers as soon as Aegon had taunted him with news of the raven from Driftmark. 
But it was the same each time, excuses of repairing relations and making amends, commands for you and Aemond both to grow up – to make sacrifices for the realm. 
Was I ever more than a lamb raised for slaughter? That question has kept you up for more hours than you care to admit. Now, watching in the mirror as a man who is not your betrothed brings you to heel on the morning of a day you have mourned for years, the dam inside you finally bursts – you are tired of bowing to duty. 
“Aemond, please!” You gasp, nearly crying as the fog in your mind finally lifts, “Please, take me, please!”
He pauses at that, the fingers on your aching bud stopping as his eye flicks up to yours. His eye is studying, calculating while he looks over you — there is a terrible relief in being finally, truly seen. “Is that what you wish?” He hums, chuckling when you pant as his fingers circle your dripping entrance, “To be filled with me, little one?”
You’re nodding before he’s even finished the question, desperate whines spilling from you as he slips his hand from between your legs, only long enough to loosen the ties at the front of his trousers.
“I’ll breed this sweet cunt,” he grunts, the arm around your waist moving to hook securely around your chest while the other grabs at his length, positioning it at your entrance as you hold your skirts out of the way in a trembling grasp, “Give you a pure Valyrian babe, just as you deserve.”
All of the air is knocked from your lungs as he pushes into you, spearing you on his cock in one swift motion. Your fingers abandon your skirts to instead claw helplessly at the arm draped over your chest, knees nearly buckling as Aemond pauses long enough for you to adjust. 
“Gods!” You whimper as he sets a punishing pace from the outset, though the harsh thrusts feel like paradise after being deprived of his mere presence for so long. Your head droops forward as he snakes a hand around your hip to begin rubbing at your pearl yet again, lucid enough to know that the two of you are operating on borrowed time. 
“You have always been mine, all of you,” he gasps, watching as your bodies writhe together in the mirror. After a moment, he growls and grabs at your neck, forcing your head up until your eyes meet his. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he praises, leaning forward to kiss and nip at your neck and shoulder, “You’re mine, you’re mine…”
You nod as best you can as he chants the words again and again like a prayer, pushing his length in and out of you in time with each one, until your mind is nothing but a cacophony of mine, mine, mine. 
“I-I’m, Gods, I’m – Aemond!” You all but sob, the knot in your stomach that had been pitifully winding itself for weeks finally about to unravel as your cunt tightens around him, his grunts and growls in response only pushing you further to the end. 
“Do it,” he commands, redoubling his efforts on your bud, his other hand scrambling frantically to grasp at your stomach, “Let go and I’ll breed you, I’ll give you a babe, our babe, little one. Let go for me, let go.”
His muttered command sends shivers down your spine and you’re powerless to do much else other than obey and your eyes squeeze shut and your lips part as a harsh, shuddering cry is knocked out of you; fire seems to ignite every cell within you as you pulse around his length. Your knees buckle when your high washes over you, Aemond’s grip around your waist the only thing keeping you upright. 
“Good girl, good girl,” he murmurs, the sound of his voice just barely cutting through the rush of blood in your ears. A handful of thrusts later and he stills against you, growling and squeezing you to within an inch of your life as he fills you, cock twitching. 
You both still for a moment, harsh pants filling your chambers as you catch your breath. You whine when Aemond finally pulls his softening length from you, though he shushes you sweetly before leading you to your vanity chair and sitting you down. 
“I don’t want to marry him,” you whisper suddenly, sniffling softly as tears sting the back of your eyes, “I don’t w-want to, Aemond, I –”
“Shh, shh,” he says softly, gently cupping your cheek and angling your face up toward his, “There’s nothing we can do to change today, as much as it pains me. Were it possible, I would gut him in the Sept and stake my claim to you then and there, Gods be damned, I –” 
He pauses, cutting himself off with a harsh sigh, “I will have you, I swear it. I will not fail again.” 
Were it any other time, the dark shadow that lingers behind his words would give you pause, would frighten you as they have before. 
Now, though, they settle over you like a warm blanket – there is a safety in this fear. Aemond, for all his faults, is nothing if not determined. 
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Whatever surety had settled within you only an hour before is swiftly and sharply pushed from your mind as you exit the carriage and climb the many steps up to the doors of the Great Sept of Baelor, unsteady even with Aegon at your side. 
By the grace of the Gods, Aemond had managed to slip from your chambers, and supposedly from the Red Keep, unseen by all except your lady’s maids, and they had all been sworn to secrecy long ago. Once he had gone, they filed back in and had blessedly made no mention of the intrusion as they bustled about you yet again – quickly braiding your hair through the prongs of your tiara and securing your cloak to your shoulders. 
They knew better than to ask about the sapphire clasped around your neck, or about the mess of rubies on the floor.
Your eldest brother, however, had not been so forgiving; his dark eyes had narrowed the moment you were seated together in the carriage. “Today, sister? Really?” He had teased, a dangerous spark in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you had grumbled, clenching your legs together as you sat. 
“Hm,” he hummed, chuckling softly, “Maybe I’ll soon be mother’s favorite after all.”
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“We stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife,” the septon’s booming voice fills the Sept as you stand together with Jacaerys, your hands in his, “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”
You try your hardest to keep your eyes trained to his, to keep your lips crooked into a smile, but all you can focus on is the two stares practically searing your flesh. 
Alicent’s face swam in your vision, the way her cheeks had paled when she had caught sight of the jewelry clasped around your neck, at the guilty look in your eyes. You can feel hers boring into you now and you have no doubt her jaw is clenched, her fingers bloodied and raw. 
The other stare makes your skin prickle, much as it did on the night of your betrothal feast. You keep inwardly scolding yourself, again and again, as your eyes lock with Aemond’s every few seconds as he stands at the base of the steps to your side. 
“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity,” the septon continues, gesturing to you and Jace, “Look upon one another and say the words.”
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,” you recite together, all the while you desperately try to ignore the hollow, aching pit slowly opening itself in the very center of your chest.
“I am hers and she is mine,” Jace murmurs, dark gaze fixed solely on yours as he squeezes your hands, a terrible longing in his stare, “From this day, until the end of my days.”
“I am his and he is mine,” you say, each word feeling like a knife being twisted in your gut, “From this day until the end of my days.”
The septon gestures once more for the two of you to step closer together; it takes all of your restraint not to gasp when you feel a rivulet of Aemond’s spend leak down your thigh as you do. 
“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Jace says softly. His warm hands cup your cheeks before he leans in but when your lips touch, all you see is sapphire.
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toournextadventure · 6 months
Text
a novel life pt.1
Summary: You're a Lit professor at Blackmoor University when you meet Samantha Carpenter. Life becomes... a lot more exciting with her around.
Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, bullying, sister arguments Pairing: Sam Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)
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You liked Sam.
No, that was quite the understatement. You would almost - almost - go so far as to say you loved her! Not quite yet, obviously, you still weren’t completely, absolutely positive. But you were pretty certain that the things you felt for her could be classified as love. At least that’s what your dad said love was, and he had been happily married for 41 years at that time, so how could you possibly argue with that kind of experience?
It wasn’t like you had meant to fall in love with her. Not that you actively avoided it, you just… hadn’t been looking for her. Both you and Sam had a habit of lying when people asked how you met; they always assumed it was some kind of meet-cute. Her friend Mindy was determined it was something adorable, like meeting at a coffee shop or running into each other at the library.
The truth, the cold hard truth, was much more ridiculous.
“Why are you watching me?”
You blinked hard and looked up at the… woman (?) standing in front of you. She was all blurry and all you could really make out was dark hair and beautifully brown skin. If you really squinted, you could see just enough of her posture that, when coupled with the tone, was indicative of frustration. Maybe even anger, if you pushed it.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t know I was.”
“How could you not know?” She asked, her tone staying incredibly not happy.
“I, uh-” you cleared your throat, “-I couldn’t see you.”
Her laugh was condescending. And pretty. “You were looking right at me.” Her blurry frame shifted. “Come up with a better excuse.”
This strange woman was rather mean, wasn’t she? You kind of liked it.
“It’s not an excuse,” you said once her frame had officially stopped moving.
“Then how did you not see me?” She asked. “What are you, blind?”
You smiled to yourself and set your bagel down. “Kind of,” you said as you lifted your head to face her. Or at least you hoped you were. “I forgot my glasses at my office.”
“Fuck,” she said softly. Her tense tone had disappeared rather quickly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you said. “Sounds like you’re used to being watched.”
“You have no idea,” she said quickly.
Wait. That was an opening. You hadn’t talked to a woman outside of work in ages. This was your chance!
“Want to sit down over coffee some time and talk about it?”
You really really wished you hadn’t forgotten your glasses. Without them, you couldn’t see the look on her face. Did she think your question was rather rash? Rude, even? Or perhaps she thought it was a welcome idea, even just to get something off her chest. From the sound of it, she had a lot on her mind.
“Sure,” she said eventually. “I’d like that.”
The rest, as they say, was history. You had both gotten your coffee and you hadn’t forgotten your glasses again. Which made the coffee date a little awkward because then you could see just how truly beautiful she was, and you had not been prepared for it. She had watched you become a stuttering fool who could only spout random, unwarranted facts about things.
By some miracle, she had asked you on a dinner date.
The singular benefit of the entire situation was that you had met at the very beginning of summer break. You had decided not to teach a summer class that year, instead opting to use the hotter months to find more material that you could bring to the fall semester. There had to be a wider range of literature from the Romantic Period outside of what the school had already been teaching when you joined the staff. The literature classes at the moment were so… basic.
Because of this, work never came up. Sam never asked, and you never even thought to tell simply because… well, you just hadn’t thought of it. You hadn’t been hiding your profession, you hadn’t even tried to be sneaky about it. After all, your entire apartment was filled with tomes and first editions of novels and the closest thing you could get to original manuscripts of the ancients. And Sam had very certainly seen the inside of your apartment more than once.
The thought had  never occurred to you to bring up what you did for a living. After all, you finally had a girl…friend? You weren’t quite sure if that term could be used officially, but you were going to use it in your internal monologue. Regardless, this was the first time in years, how were you supposed to remember everything she might want to know? Besides, it wasn’t like she had asked yet.
And neither had her sister! Who, unfortunately, you were starting to think didn’t like you. She had never said it out loud, so you couldn’t be sure, but she made sure to give you a, uh, look whenever you would come over. Sam had told you that Tara loved movies - horror movies to be precise - and you had even managed to find a rare copy of a “famous” B-list movie for her!
It still didn’t work.
“Do I need to try and cook dinner for her one night?” You asked, looking up from your book. Sam was still doing her own studying for her night classes.
“If you cook for Tara, she will eat you alive,” Sam said without missing a beat. “She had to cook for herself for years, she will tear you apart.”
“She’s so scary,” you whispered to yourself before looking back down at your lecture notes. “What if I found the original script of her favourite movie?”
At that, Sam put her pen down. Your stomach fluttered; had you said something wrong? Oh of course you had, you absolute fool. You don’t question someone about how to win over their siblings! Well… did you? Maybe you needed to do some research on the topic.
“Your efforts are sweet,” she said with a soft smile, “but you can’t push Tara. She’ll come around when she’s ready.”
You frowned. “How will she be ready if I don’t try?”
“Trust the process,” she said. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before going back to her studying, and you were left stewing in your own thoughts.
The process didn’t make any sense.
—---
“Do you have to go?” Sam asked in a raspy voice.
You looked up from tying your shoes. Sam had rolled over to her other side on the bed, giving you the perfect view of her. Her hair was a mess and her eyes could barely stay open, but she looked just as beautiful as always. The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains to hit her skin at just the right angle. It looked like she was glowing.
Maybe you didn’t have to go.
No, you had students waiting, of course you had to go.
“I’ll be back after work,” you said quietly. Her eyes were still mostly closed, and you didn’t want to jolt her awake; she deserved her beauty rest.
“Be safe,” she said.
You finished tying your shoe and stood up, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. She sighed softly. “I’ll be safe.” You placed one more kiss on her forehead before pulling back. She quickly fell back into bed, already fast asleep.
Thankfully, all of your stuff was outside the bedroom. It made it easier to stay quiet, tip-toeing your way out of the room and easing the door open and shut with as little noise as possible. You waited a moment, listening through the door to see if she had woken up, but nodded to yourself in confirmation before turning back around.
And facing Tara.
“Your nerd shit is by the door,” Tara said a little louder than you would have liked. She was going to wake up Sam if she didn’t quiet down a bit.
“Thank you,” you said. Because of course that was something normal people said in that situation. “Are you, uh, headed to class?”
You gestured your head toward her backpack. Which was clearly filled with school books. Which you were more than aware meant that yes, of course she was heading to school. Where else would she be going? You weren’t doing a very good job at winning her over, now she was going to think you were stupid.
“No, I’m running away,” Tara said with a roll of her eyes.
“Oh,” you said sadly. Then, her words clicked in your mind and you perked up. “Oh.” Okay, she wasn’t going to think you were stupid, she was simply going to bully you.
Jokes on her, you had been bullied all your life, you were practically a professional.
“I’m heading that way too,” you said as you ungraciously shoved your arms through your jacket. “Want to go together?”
Tara looked you up and down for only a fraction of a second. “Absolutely not.”
You watched, dejected, as she exited the apartment without another word. Although you weren’t entirely surprised, you weren’t exactly happy about the situation. Well, there went one of your chances at winning her over. You would have to try again next time. And maybe not be so… what did you hear Tara call you the other day… pathetic in your attempts.
Which was going to be rather hard to do when you couldn’t even catch your bus, leading to you having to walk the long distance to the university. It led to you shedding your jacket before getting halfway to your destination, and blisters on the backs of your heels from your shoes. Maybe you didn’t need to dress quite the same if you were leaving Sam's apartment; clearly it wasn’t a safe choice.
You were nine minutes and 27 seconds late to your class.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said the moment you stepped into the classroom. Everyone was still talking, but they quieted down slowly. “I missed my bus.” You tossed your briefcase onto the desk and started digging for your papers. “Which means, lucky for you, we can skip icebreakers and get right to it.”
There was a mix of mumbled approval and sighs of relief at the release from icebreakers. You would admit, you weren’t too upset about it either. Even though it did help everyone learn names - ahem, it helped you learn their names - it was rather intimidating. No one knew what to say, it put everyone on the spot, and more often than not ended up with no one talking the entire semester. This was better for everyone, and at least you had an excuse.
“Alright,” you huffed, finally pulling the stack of papers out of your briefcase, “pass these around while I tell you about the changes in readings.” Groans quickly followed. “You won’t be buying more textbooks, I’ve got PDFs to share.”
You quickly handed the stack of papers to the student closest to the front, giving them a smile and a mouthed “thank you.” She smiled back and nodded before handing them back. Even as you reached back to grab your own notes, you finally, finally looked out at the class.
And froze when you met a pair of familiar brown eyes.
Tara had a look that you would have classified as “furious.” Although her nose scrunched up like Sam’s, and you could truly see the family resemblance in their anger. That was… well, it sure was something. You hoped you could grow to get used to all of this enough to keep a professional demeanour in class. It wouldn’t do you any good to lose it now simply because your girlfriend’s (?) sister was in your class.
Admittedly, class went on without a hitch. Eventually, after nearly the entire hour had passed, Tara had managed to relax enough to look over the syllabus and even give her input on a few of the readings you had changed up. She was smart. You hadn’t heard much from her, but she was incredibly smart. It was going to be a delight to hear her opinions throughout the semester.
“Alright everyone, I’ll let you out a few minutes early,” you said once you had thoroughly exhausted everything on the syllabus. Had you really needed to take as long as you had? No, but you weren’t going to miss a single piece of information. The point of teaching was to prepare everyone for success, not to throw information out at them and hope they could comprehend it well enough on their own.
The class quickly started packing up, talking about nothing that you had told them about. Which was as expected. You hadn’t been teaching for too long, but you weren’t naive; you knew students usually only cared during class and gave up as soon as they were free.
“Oh, Miss Carpenter,” you said quickly, catching Tara right before she left. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Your heart beat loudly in your chest as Tara sighed, but otherwise nodded and trudged back into class. She didn’t sit, but stayed standing on the other side of the desk. A defence mechanism if ever you saw once. Though, judging by the scar you could see on her hand, you assumed it was for good reason.
“I want to check in with you that my presence won’t negatively impact your time in this class,” you said once everyone had finished filing out of the room.
“Will my presence negatively impact your time with my sister?” She shot back quickly. Why was she so fast? You didn’t answer. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m a big girl, I can handle you as my professor for one semester.” 
“Good,” you said with repetitive nods. “Please inform me if you change your mind.” Tara rolled her eyes, but you weren’t phased. “I do not mean to impede upon your success.”
“Shut up,” she said softly, “you sound like such a parent.”
“I mean it, Tara,” you continued. “You don’t have to like Sam and me, but I don’t want it to impact your life-”
“-Oh my god, I get it,” she interrupted quickly. Her weight shifted between her feet. “Just shut up already, I have another class to get to.”
“Okay,” you said with a gesture toward the door. “Stay safe.”
Tara didn’t bother answering before practically sprinting out the door. You hoped she was being serious about not being too influenced with you as her professor. It was against every part of your being to create a barrier between her and her academics. If she didn’t like you, that was one thing, but if it caused a problem? You would have to talk to Sam about it.
Oh god, you did sound like a parent.
By the time all your classes had ended and you could finally head back to Sam’s apartment, you had nearly forgotten all about Tara being in your class. Now, it certainly didn’t help that you were so focused on getting back to Sam so you could crawl into bed with her and rest. You clearly had better things to think about than a potential, unconfirmed incident at school.
Well, you thought you had better things to think about. When you approached Sam’s apartment door, you could hear elevated voices inside. Elevated voices that were related to each other. And that were surely unhappy about something. Oh gosh. You debated walking away, but what if they were in trouble?
You would not have been the one to save them, but by golly if you weren’t going to try.
“They’re one of my professors, Sam,” Tara shouted while you walked into the apartment.
Oh jeez. You should not have tried to save anyone. Sam was standing near the couch with her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Across from her, Tara was near the kitchen, her backpack and books strewn along the table as if she had thrown it there. Which, judging by her apparent anger, was likely.
“You can’t just date one of my professors,” she continued. “That’s so wrong.”
“You’re an adult, Tara,” Sam said, “you can handle one semester of this.”
You debated stepping in, but couldn’t decide if that would make things better or worse. Clearly Tara had an issue, and you didn’t want to throw it back in her face. That certainly wouldn’t help you win her over. You decided to stay put for the moment.
“I don’t trust them, Sam,” Tara practically shouted. Not quite, but she was building it up. “They just want to show up, worm their way into every part of our lives, and I’m not supposed to be suspicious?” She asked. “After everything we’ve been through?”
“This isn’t-” Sam stopped when she met your eyes.
Tara turned around at Sam’s sudden halt, groaning when she saw you standing there. You lifted your shaky hand slowly, giving a half-hearted wave. Sam’s eyes softened as she watched you, but Tara’s only hardened. And, you supposed you couldn’t fully blame her. She… made a good point.
“I can head out,” you said softly.
“Good-”
“-Don’t.” Tara and Sam said at the same time. Sam glared at the younger Carpenter. “You don’t have to go.”
“I don’t mean to intrude,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “I can come back another time.”
“I’ll walk you out,” she said.
“Seriously?” Tara asked. “We’re talking.”
“And we can talk when I get back,” Sam said quickly. She practically pushed you out the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”
You didn’t get to see Tara’s face at Sam’s order. No doubt it was… not happy. It made you… sad to see them arguing, especially about something as insignificant as you. There was absolutely no reason they should be arguing about you.
Perhaps there was also a small bit of relief at being an only sibling.
Sam leaned against the door and closed her eyes before letting out a drawn out sigh. Your inexperience got the better of you; you didn’t know what to do. Not only had you not had a girlfriend for *ahem* a little while, you also didn’t have siblings. Was this normal behaviour for siblings? For sisters? Surely it was.
No, you needed to think, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sam was clearly upset in some form, and you needed to do something to comfort her. What was comforting? Ah, you knew. You reached forward carefully and grabbed Sam’s hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. They linked together perfectly, like they were meant to be.
She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at your hands. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she looked back up at you. There was a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes; the main indication of her smile that she was holding back. You loved that crinkle.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“Don’t be,” you said with your own smile as you pulled her closer to you. “I don’t blame her for being cautious.”
“I guess it’s my own fault,” Sam said. You both started slowly making your way down the stairs. “I openly disapproved of her partner, so.”
“Payback,” you said with a nod.
“I didn’t know you were a professor,” she said shyly.
You chuckled. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”
“Tell me about it?” She asked.
You both stepped onto the ground floor in tandem. As much as you wanted to stand there with her all night, you knew she needed to have a talk with Tara. If any of you wanted this to work, you would have to put in the effort and do the things you didn’t want to. At the moment, it was Sam and Tara hashing it out.
“Over dinner?” You suggested. “Next Thursday?” She smiled. “I don’t have class Friday morning and a co-worker suggested this delightful little bistro.”
“That sounds great,” she said. “But you’re paying.”
“It’s only fair,” you said with a shrug. “I suppose this mess is my fault.”
“100%,” she said, biting her bottom lip immediately after.
You didn’t have to be experienced to know what to do next. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck as she pulled you closer. Your hands fell to her hips, holding her securely against you. You didn’t have to move very far to kiss her. She tasted lovely; the taste of chocolate, a splash of wine, and the ever-present hint of cigarettes.
She tasted like love
—---
The countdown to your date with Sam had seemed to drag on endlessly. The days seemed to go by too slowly, you only got to talk to her on occasion, and you had been thrown back into the swing of things with… far too many classes to preside over. It was your own fault, of course, but that didn’t make it any more tolerable.
Add to that the fact that Tara, while behaving herself, was keen on giving you some rather distasteful looks during class? It was a rather long week.
But the day had finally arrived! You had finished your class and practically sprinted - to the best of your ability - to the bus stop to get back to your apartment. A simple shower to freshen up, a new change of clothes, and you were all set to go. You stopped by the little bodega on the way, purchasing a small bouquet of flowers, and then you were on your way once again.
Sam had texted you earlier in the day, telling you to stay in the lobby and let her know when you were there. You assumed, rightfully, that it was because Tara was up in the apartment. Things might have been resolved, but that didn’t mean she had to like you yet. It was a fair compromise for the moment.
You texted her as soon as you stepped into the lobby, and she said she would be down momentarily. That was alright, at least the lobby was cool compared to the hot post-summer air outside. It wasn’t miserable, but it was enough that you weren’t too keen on being stuck outside.
“Nice shoes,” a voice said. “They look clean, where’d you get ‘em?”
You looked up from the hole you were staring into the floor to meet the eyes of a youngster coming into the lobby. They had rather kind eyes and a smile that, though accentuated by scars on both sides, was one of the most genuine you believed you had ever seen.
“Thank you,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back. “They’re from, ah, Allen Edmonds? Rockefeller Plaza?”
“I think I know that place, yeah,” the person said. “You’d recommend them?”
“Of course,” you said with a nod. “They’ve been the finest quality shoes I own.”
“I’ll have to check ‘em out,” the person continued. They nodded at the flowers in your hand. “For a girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” you said, “she’s on her way down.”
“She’ll love ‘em,” they said kindly. “I’m on my way up to see my girlfriend, so I’ll leave ya alone.”
You nodded enthusiastically. “You two have a wonderful evening.”
“You too,” they said with a crooked half-smile and a small wave before jogging up the stairs two at a time.
It only took another moment or two before Sam came down, looking as stunning as always. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places - which was every place - and complimented her eyes beautifully. Paired with a simple bracelet and necklace, and you were one lucky person.
“You look gorgeous,” you said softly, pulling her into a quick kiss but being careful not to smear her makeup. “These are for you.”
Her smile was small, a smile that almost gave you more butterflies than her bigger one. This one was almost reserved for you exclusively, and you would have done anything to see it more often.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning up again to press a kiss to your cheek. You hoped it left a lipstick stain.
You grabbed her hand and led her out of the building, hailing a taxi and ushering her in before following behind. In the privacy of the cab, she let her head fall onto your shoulder as she played with your fingers. You didn’t look down, but you felt her twisting your class ring round and round, almost nervously.
“You know,” you said as the cab pulled to a stop at a light, “I met the most delightful young fellow in the lobby before you came down.”
“Oh really?” Sam asked. She had stopped fidgeting with your ring and had started running her fingers over your clothed thigh.
“They asked about my shoes,” you said with a nod, “and said you would love the flowers.”
Her fingers stopped moving.
“What did this “young fellow” look like?” She asked. Her head lifted from your shoulder; you instantly missed the sensation.
“About yea high,” you said, indicating vaguely how tall they were. “Crooked smile.”
“Scars on their cheeks?”
“That’s the one,” you said with a nod. “I liked them.”
“That’s Tara’s partner,” Sam said with a huff.
“Oh?” You asked, intrigued. Well, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed that.
“The one I don’t exactly approve of,” she continued.
“Oh,” you said with far less excitement. “Well, I thought they were lovely.”
“I’m sure you did,” she said. Her tone indicated annoyance, but you glanced down in time to catch the small smile on her face that gave her away.
You pulled her back into your side and kissed the top of her head as the cab continued its route to the bistro. Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult to get all four of you to get along. You loved Sam, even if you weren’t quite ready to admit it yet. After all, with her hand in yours and your lips pressed to her skin? What was the worst that could happen?
879 notes · View notes
pokechbi · 11 months
Text
Worthy (The Holy Trinity: Pt 2)
Summary:
König x fem reader!
Highly NSFW, so MDNI!!!
Not proofread bc my meat taco wrote this while my brain sat back and laughed
Creds to the artist of the cover photo <;3
Word Count: 8.7k!
Breeding kink, size king, age gap (implied), posessiveness, somnophilia, missionary, mating press
Enjoy ;)
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The night Konig made her his, he had no intention of ever letting her go. He was in love with her. Infatuated with her. Obsessed with her. He had left her apartment for work with the other two men at approximately 5:30 in the morning, not without fight. He stayed lying down next to her a moment longer than Ghost, taking in her sleeping form and pure, raw beauty as she rested. Before he knew it, her trance had pulled him along for the ride and he almost lost himself to the peaceful bliss of sleep, threatening his strict sleep schedule he had worked years to perfect. But that's just what she did to him. She plagued his mind, his habits. Her scent still wrapped itself around his senses even hours later. In his mind, he was never to share his woman again. He needed her, craved her like an oxygen starved animal, his body now naturally gravitating to her as if it had a natural radar for her and her only. The image of her flushed cheeks and glistening, sticky skin ice picked its way through the tough wall he had built up with his work thoughts. It was driving him uncomfortably crazy. The thought of him having to share his now bred woman made him nauseous, made him want to viscously maim anyone who would try and so much as breathe in her path. 
He knew that he wanted to win her over, in the case that he had gotten her signals mixed up and she was only just reciprocating what she was receiving that night, and not in love with him the way he was with her. His heart splintered at the very thought of his desire being for naught. He had made it a personal goal before he even put his cock into her to stand out from the other two. He knew there was at least some competition between him, Ghost and Soap. Ghost was no womanizer, but his mysterious, dark aura in pair with his high rank made him feared and loved. The two things that made a woman absolutely fall head over heels for a man without even knowing him. Soap was the ultimate pussy magnet. Something Konig had never learned how to be. Soap was confident, knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Konig didn’t. He stuttered and stared blankly until the right words came to his head, no matter how long it took. And he loved her because this is what she seemed to admire in him. Soap said what he said and had not a care in the world about it. His charming carelessness and smug attitude wasn't hard to fall for. These were the traits he liked in them as teammates. But now, there were new matters at hands and these were characteristics that made him absolutely despise them. The memories in his head of his sweet girl being fucked stupid by the two most desirable men on base making his skin crawl and his fists ball. 
The thought started to boil the blood in his veins. How could he be so careless? How could he agree to such a thing and not try to stop them? But he had his answer. And looking back on it, it was embarrassing for him to admit. It's something that happened more often than he'd like to admit. He liked her, loved her even, and knew that for sure. He had always known she was special. Since she was assigned to their wing of the base. But when she took her seat at that table in the bar that night, and how Soap had taken an instant notice of her, he knew this wouldn't end well for him. His social anxiety didn’t stand a chance. He hadn’t been able to speak up to the two men, or rather, down to them. His size had nothing to do with his mental toughness. Sure, he was a Colonel, but he wasn’t a flashy one.  He was quiet. A leader, but a quiet one. A man with many, many desires, but quiet about them. In no way was he socially deprived, but it seemed more a matter of not finding the right people who understood who he was and knew how to handle him. But he knew she could. She would. She would welcome him with open arms, squeeze him with her little hugs and wrap her thick, curvy legs around his waist after a long day. She’d be the center of his world. Her pleasure his priority. Her comfort his number one concern. He’d fuck her so hard she’d go absolutely dumb on his dick, then suck and lick at her pussy so gently she won’t be able to reach her orgasm until he’d let her. He’d ruin her. He’d fuck her like he hated her guts and love her like he’d rip his own heart out and give her his. She’d make him feel like the King he was named after. And he would make her his Queen. But the world wasn’t always nice to him. His obsession with her stemmed from her being too good to be true. He wanted to hold on, to never let go. To make all his advances while he could and prove his dedication to her. The lack of empathy society had given him was the same lack of empathy and emptiness he possessed on the battlefield. He knew had his ways of becoming a bit…obsessive when it came to the women he began to love. The last girl he found himself infatuated with had been when he lived back in Austria, being 7 years old and finding out about the joys and thrills of romance. She found him creepy since his size made it hard for girls his age to find him attractive. They often found him weird, and thought he was older than what he was. He shook his head from the thoughts of what once was and focused on his task at hand. 
The soft fabric of her torn pink lacy panties scrunched around his nose and laced around his fingers as he inhaled her scent off of them like a wolf on a scent trail. His lungs filled with her as his large ungloved hand wrapped around his shaft, furiously jerking his cock to the smell of her pussy. The back of his helmeted head thumped against the stall wall with every stroke. He remembered how wet she’d been just 8 hours before, soaking the very piece of fabric in his hands with her delicious essence. He remembered how well she had taken his cock, legs spread wide open and squirting everywhere, just for him. In his mind, he’d blurred out the other two figures that weren’t supposed to be there. They were intruders to his imagination, to his reality. His grunts and whimpers drip from his lips, bouncing off the walls of the bathroom. He had been sitting in his office, still reeling at how a man of his stature had managed to get away with sneakily stealing the worn underwear he had torn off of her earlier in the night. No one noticed a thing as they all left the apartment, and all morning he wanted nothing more than a minute to himself to celebrate his victory heist with a reward: Jerking his dick to the smell of her pussy, all while reliving the moment he spilled hot ropes of his seed into her. He whimpered at the idea of filling her belly up to the brim with his hot, steaming cum. Seeing her become round and fat with his child— “O…o-ohhh scheiße, gottverdammt.” He groans, his breath stifled and his voice coming out strained as he brings the panties to his dick, finishing himself into the small bunch of pink lace material. His knees shake as he smiles, imagining that it were her sucking his milk right out of the tip of his shaft with her warm, wet lips. 
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It had been almost twenty minutes since Konig abandoned his paperwork and made his way to the bathroom, hell bent on violating himself in hopes to soothe his hunger, and to tame his pure, raw starvation for her. He slumped back down in his chair, staring at the door in front of him. The violent jerking off to the smell of her still hadn’t managed to prevent her from crippling his every thought, even if only for a little while so he could get some work done. She was taking him over. His body, his mind, his soul. And he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to fix it. Not that he necessarily wanted to, anyway. He loved the feeling of losing complete control over himself, the feeling of surrendering every inch of his body, every thought, every breath, just for her. He sat with his head in his hand, thinking about what he could do to possibly show her how devoted he was to her. And as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he remembered the panties and bra that he had viciously torn off of her in a fit of passion. He recalled the surprise on her face when his sexual impatience got the best of him and he savagely ripped the piece of fabric off her body. He wasted no time and smirked to himself as he stood from his desk, making his way to the door of his office. He ducked his head on the way out, locking it behind him. He eagerly made his way outside and to his car as he basked in the afternoon sun. 
He looked at his digital watch. 11:38AM, it blinked. She should have been awake and at work by now, so he didn't have to worry about her being home when he went to drop her little surprise off. He contemplated giving it to her by hand, and not breaking into her apartment like a complete creep. But his eye twitched at the idea of approaching her with this certain kind of gift. He was terrified of the possibility that she would find it weird, although it was highly unlikely considering how he'd basically sexed her to sleep just last night. They were much past first impressions. That was the thing about his anxiety. It took a simple situation and blew it so out of proportion that he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. His brain came up with such wild scenarios and insanely improbable outcomes that ran fear through his blood. As he got into his car and turned the key in the ignition, he pulled his phone out and clicked it on. He opened his Maps app and got the directions of the nearest mall. 
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After purchasing the lace underwear set for her, König parked his car outside of her apartment building and sat in it quietly, contemplating going inside or not. The women at the shop gave him the dirtiest of stares. A 6 '10 man wearing a sniper hood and a military grade helmet shuffling through the different types of panties and bras they carried, he wasn't sure why they hadn't called the police on him. He also wasn’t sure how his social anxiety had managed to allow him to do that. But love conquers all, it seemed. It was a never ending mental fight, and he wanted it to end. He needed her to know how much he wanted her. How she had plagued his mind and body ever since he’d left that night. But in his head were the thoughts of her gently letting him down, telling him how she’d fallen in love with Ghost, and not him. Or that she’d fallen for Soap, and not him. He cringed at the thought, gently banging his forehead on the steering wheel and shaking the helmet on his head. He groans, physically unable to get himself out of the driver’s seat. He looked at his watch. 12:37PM, it blinked at him. She wouldn’t even be home, he thought. What was he so scared for? What was the worst that could happen? He couldn’t even bring himself to answer that. He let out a sharp breath, and opened the door to his car, quickly stepping out of it and slamming it behind him. He walks up to the lobby door, and inputting the code he had seen her enter the night he was here. 
5365#
The little green light on the panel flashed green as a loud beep rang through the air. He walks in, shutting the door behind him, quickly finding the elevator and praying nobody would run into him. With the small, pink bag in hand, he rings the elevator and steps into it. He pressed the button to her floor and waited as the doors closed. As the elevator approached the floor her apartment was on, he strutted out and walked to the right and down the hallway, stopping at her apartment. For the first time since he’d started wearing it many years ago, his sniper hood felt like it was suffocating him. He felt hot, wanting to rip it off and breathe the fresh air. God, what was he doing? He collected himself quickly, not being able to turn back now. He let out a sharp breath as he pulled the pocket sized folding lockpicker out of his wallet. He got on his knees and began fiddling with the lock, the pink bag of lingerie at his side and both of his hands on the lockpicker. In no time, he heard a faint click as the lock gave way. He froze in place, waiting to see if anyone had heard it from the inside. He shook his head at the weak locks on her front door, making a mental note to bring it up to her later on. He mentally slapped himself for his blatant stupidity. How the hell would he bring this up to her? 
Hey, I was breaking into your apartment earlier and your locks gave in very easily. You should call someone about that. 
He stood from his knees, ducking his head as he entered her apartment. The smell of her permeated the air and shoved its way into his nostrils. He inhales her scent, her smell turning into pure and raw lust as it makes its way into his balls. He walks through the apartment, looking at her decor and cute little trinkets littered on every surface. He loved how her apartment expressed who she was, and how he was getting a look into her very soul. He smiles to himself as he makes his way to her bedroom. As he approaches the door, the smile falls from his face as if it weighed a hundred pounds. He hears gentle breathing coming from the crack in the door. Putting his hand over his mouth, his eyes widened in horror as he realized she was still here. What the fuck was he thinking? He looked from the door to the pink bag in his hand, contemplating his next move. 
Konig wrapped his fingers around the doorknob quietly, gently pushing it open. He feels his heart jump into his stomach as the door creaks. He pops his head in, his eyes softening on her sleeping form. She was still naked, the white sheet wrapped around her curves and soft skin. The room still smelled of sex and arousal. He smiles as he ducks his head and opens the door the rest of the way. He's careful where he steps and makes sure to not open the door all the way, needing to keep it from creaking as much as possible. He looms over her silently, listening to her quiet breathing and restraining himself from reaching out and caressing her. He puts the bag on the opposite side of her sleeping head, smiling down at her. He didn't dare whisper, in fear of her waking up to find him creepily watching her as she slept. If he was invited, he was sure she would be into the idea of letting him take her as unconsciousness still blanketed her senses. But he wasn't, and he had committed a crime to get in there. So he kept his lips glued shut. The thought of him pushing into her as she was still asleep, and fucking her awake caused a hot white flash of arousal to shoot through his veins and settle in the had of his cock. He ran his palm over his hardening erection, stepping closer to her as he squeezed the base of himself through his cargos. Just then, the sound of a car backfiring could be heard outside of her window, resembling a loud gunshot. He freezes as her gentle breathing stops, and she groans softly. Before she could think of turning around, he slips out from the room silently and out of the front door, making sure not to close it loud enough for her to hear. It had taken him years to master being silent on his feet. It wasn't easy considering his size, but he needed to. His KorTac Captain made sure he was prepared for situations where he needed to be stealthy in close quarters with enemies. Or sneaking out of a woman's room who almost caught him watching her sleep, like a stalker. He made his way down the stairs, too nervous to wait for the elevator in case she heard him striding away and decided to follow. As he flew down the stairs and out to his car, he stepped on the gas and peeled out from his parking space in front of her building. 
His foot never left the gas as he drove the short drive back to the base. His colleagues stared at him concerned as he rushed back to his office, hands glued behind his back. As soon as he got inside and plopped down in his chair, he ripped his helmet and mask off in hopes to replenish his blood supply of oxygen. He felt as if he would vomit right there, almost having been caught by the woman he was trying to impress, not have a restraining order against. He felt naked having his mask off anywhere other than his apartment, but he was driving himself crazy. He stood from his desk, marching up to the window and staring out of it, spacing out completely. He prayed and prayed that she would never find out that he had been there, and if she had, that she wouldn't banish him from her life from being a complete jackass. 
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Her smile widens as she reads the card, bringing it up to her chest. König had bought her a new bra and panty set, seemingly more expensive than she would ever pick out for herself. She looks down at her body, the flashbacks of last night hitting her like a truck. And for some reason, the only one she managed to envision vividly when she felt the soreness in her legs and the pressure in her hips, was him. Not the other two men who had simply chewed her innocence up and savagely spit it out. But he was the only thing on her mind. She rose from her bed, making her way to her cell phone in her bag that was strewn about the floor. She shivered as the cold air nipped at her naked skin. She stopped in her tracks, feeling an indentation in her plush carpet. She looked down, the dirty indentation resembling a boot track. She got down on her knees, curiously running a pointer finger over the dirty boot mark, the off white material now littered with specks of dirt. She smiled to herself, knowing this was recent and not from last night, or this morning even. The carpet would have shapened itself back up had it been from more than a couple hours ago. She felt giddy as she realized he had been here, without her knowledge. The thought of him looming over her, watching her naked body sleep and touching himself to the sight of her being so blissfully unaware of him. She couldn't believe the new things she was feeling. How these men had managed to fire something up in her that she didn't even know resided in the deep depths of her core. She stood up from her knees and walked over to her bag. She reached into it, feeling the small rectangle graze her fingertips. She clicked it on, revealing tons of messages from her friends, Bal and Sophia. 
They all ranged from “Are you okay?” to “Did you take one of them home?” and some lightheartedly joking about taking the three of them home at the same time. She smiled to herself, knowing that Bal and Sophia would never expect such a thing from her. She still didn't know if it was something she’d take to the grave, or tell them. She giggled to herself, thinking of their reactions. She got the sudden urge to call König, just to hear his high, husky accented voice. She needed him. She needed his touch, his breath caressing her lips again. The way his touch left that warm feeling on her skin. The way his voice caressed her womanhood and drove her absolutely insane to the point where her knees felt as if they would buckle at the thought of him. She imagined his hands around her throat, using her as his fuck toy as he pumped his seed into her, moaning and slurring out German expletives in her ear. She scrolled through her contacts. She facepalmed, forgetting to ask any of the guys for either of their numbers. Specifically König. Sure, they could all have their cocks in her holes but not their numbers in her phone. She kicked herself, her lack of priorities making her scoff. She knew he would be the only thing on her mind for the rest of the day, month, year, as long as she was alive. There was no way in hell she couldn't think about him constantly. She took another look at the bra and panty set spilling out of the gift bag on her bed. She smirked to herself as she rummaged through her closet for something to wear and made her way to the shower.  
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König bounced his leg up and down nervously as he haphazardly completed his paperwork. He knew he could have his ear chewed off for not paying close attention to his entries. But his eyes never left the clock since he had gotten back. At the end of his day, he would do it properly. He would make his way to her apartment, and continue where they left off the night before. He smiled to himself at the thought, his cock twitching at the memory of her sweet hole wrapping around him. He was addicted to her. Addicted to how her skin stuck to his in a sweaty, passionate embrace. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about her thick thighs, the silky soft skin on them and how easily they could bruise if he bit them. How they would wrap around his hips, beckoning him in more as he fucked the thoughts right out of her sweet little head. How she cried out in pleasure as he drilled his thick, fat dick into that weeping hole of hers. Her moans were music to his ears. It fueled him. He felt like a bike running on jet fuel when she sang her pretty little sexual song in his ear. At times when he first fucked her he felt like he would spontaneously combust and spill into her prematurely, and it took every fiber of his self control not to. He’d never felt this way when fucking anyone else before her, (not that there were many candidates) and he chalked that up to her warmly and wetly wrapping around him just. Fucking. Right. His cock grew harder with every thought of her. He groaned aloud, frustrated at his inability to not get any work done. He squeezed the bridge of his nose over his sniper hood, unsuccessfully trying to get his mind straight just until the end of the day. And as if the devil himself told him “No”, a knock on his door was heard. His head popped up as if he knew exactly who it was, his radar for her going off the charts. His heart leapt into his throat, as he called out to her. 
“Ja, come in.” He said, his voice coming out with a slight quiver. The door slowly widened, and a familiar head of brown curls popped its way in. She smiled brightly at him, inching her way in. His mouth hung agape as he took her in. She wore a plain t-shirt, snug enough to make out the outline of her bra. Her jeans hugged her waist and accentuated the curves of her hips. She wasn’t wearing her uniform, obviously since she hadn’t been at work. He shivered at the thought of her waking up right after he left. He prayed and prayed harder than he ever had before that she hadn’t noticed that he’d been there, and that here being in his office was just a mere coincidence. He smiled at her, noticing that she was waiting for him to say something. “What are you doing here, my dear?” He says gently, raising to his feet and walking over to her slowly. She bites her bottom lip and looks him up and down, seemingly seeing right through his little facade of wanting to catch up with small talk. He didn’t. He wanted her naked and bent over his desk as he bred her over and over again, spilling his hot cum onto her gripping, gummy walls. He cleared his throat at the thought, watching her as she stepped closer to him, a devilish look in her pretty eyes. His breathing got heavier as she got closer to him. “Thank you…for the gift, sir.” She purred up at him, deviously luring him in like a cat, big eyes and all. His cock twitched at the way she called him sir. He smiled at her with his eyes, lifting his hand and running a thumb over her soft cheek. She melted into his touch, breathing out a breath it seemed she was holding at his caress to her face. “You’re welcome, mein schatz” He said, his voice laced with complete and utter lust for her. “Do you like them?” He asks innocently, his eyes trailing all over her face, his body feeling a gravitational pull towards hers.
“I know you broke in, Konig” She admits, his entire body freezing like a statue. He felt as if he’d just stared medusa right in the eyes, his joints freezing and his mind completely shitting out on him. His eyes widen and his mouth hangs agape. His heart leaps its way into his throat as he begins to stutter. 
“I..I didn’t…I just…wanted to…” His heart shatters at her revelation, terrified that she was going to tell him off for being such a creep. He offers his hand to her as he continues to ramble on to her, trying to think of an explanation. She suddenly giggled and shied away from his hand, walking towards his desk in a proud, flirty stride. He was completely oblivious to what she was about to do, evident by the confused look written on his features. He stood where he was, turning around to follow her with his eyes as she stopped in front of his desk. He was scared to approach the subject, afraid he’d break whatever fragile moment that was going on between them. “Darling. Are you upset with me? For breaking into your home?” He asks quietly. She smiles at him and shakes her head. He feels the weight of the planet lift from his shoulders, feeling as if he can breathe again. He walks closer to her, but she stops him by raising her hand in front of her. 
“Did you touch yourself? I was still naked, y’know.” She says smugly, beginning to remove her shirt, exposing the soft skin of her stomach and cleavage, still littered with bruises and love bites from the night before. His breath hitches in his throat, quickly unfreezing himself and rushing towards the door to lock it shut. He stops in his steps, seeing the bra he had bought for her squeezing her breasts, pushing them up ever so slightly. He practically salivates at the sight of her, pushing away the sudden urge to get on his knees and worship her like a goddess. He also felt the sudden urge to absolutely wreck her, to rearrange her reproductive system with his fat erection. “I began to…until a loud noise woke you” He admits, stepping closer to her. “My my, Schön. You look…delicious.” He says, licking his lips as he approaches her small frame. His hands instinctively grab her face, bringing her face up as he bent down to meet hers. He lifts his sniper hood above his nose and smashes his lips against hers, in a way that's anything but graceful. He let out a soft grunt as she parted her lips, allowing him to shove his tongue in her mouth hungrily as their tongues wrestled in a passionate fight, licking and sucking each other. She took his bottom lip between her teeth and began to bite down and suck, causing his legs to shake and a fire to run through his veins and settle in his growing erection. He opens his eyes to look into hers, a mischievous smile splayed across her features. The taste of her on his lips drove him absolutely mad. He grabbed her hips and pressed her into him, rubbing his erection along her sternum, wanting to slide his cock in between her big soft breasts. Her small height made it nearly impossible to not want to fuck her like she was his very own sex toy. She moaned into his mouth, causing him to let out a low chuckle. She looked so breedable under him, his height making her seem so tiny. He parted from the kiss regrettably, and stood up straight as he looked down at her hungrily. She looked at him confused as he stared at her. “Du bist so klein…mein Schatz. Es macht mich hart” He smiled as he realized she could almost suck his cock standing up, and she would only need to bend the slightest bit. He chuckled to himself, reaching down and grabbing her by her thighs as he lifted her up onto his desk in a frenzy. She yelps quietly as he does this, spreading her legs on instinct for him and wrapping her thick, plushy thighs around his waist. Her feet rest on his lower back as he places himself in between her legs, bucking his hips so his half-hard cock rubs against her inner thigh. She lets out a moan at the sudden friction through her jeans. “König…I can’t understand German, I’m afraid.” She says breathlessly, firming her grip around his hips. He bends back down to meet her face again, whispering against her lips through his mask. He chuckled, his breath caressing her lips. “I said you are so small, my dear. It makes me hard.” He whispered, grabbing her hand and guiding it down to his still growing erection. She squeezes his shaft over his cargos, causing a grunt to escape from between his lips.Just then, she slides herself off of his desk, causing him to back up from her. She slowly gets down on her knees, readying herself to unbuckle his pants when she pauses. She suddenly breaks out into a small giggle when she realizes her mouth can’t reach his crotch from the ground. She cranes her neck in an effort to try, but Konig stops her. 
“My silly girl. You are just too small for that, aren’t you?” He says softly, caressing her chin in his hand. He beckons her up by her jaw, and she stands on her feet once more. He lifts her back onto the desk, running his big hands up and down her thighs, landing on her hips to unbutton her jeans. She raises her hands to grab his face as he does this, tugging at his sniper hood. She wanted it off? She’d get exactly what she wanted. He wasted no time in ripping the damned thing off his head, his helmet clattering to the ground with a loud thud. He smiled down at her as she admired him from below him with her big puppy-like eyes. He could not figure out for the life of him what she saw in him, the memories of her calling him handsome floating through his mind. He feels heat rise to his cheeks, biting his lip shyly as she parted her lips to speak. 
“My goodness. How did I get so lucky?” She spoke softly, her sweet voice warm and thick like hot honey. He dipped his head forward and kissed her forehead, scoffing at her. “Now that is a question I should be asking myself, hm?” He replies, his voice as low as a whisper. He looks her up and down as he continues trying to get her jeans off. He slides them down her hips, and past her thighs until they reach her ankles. He removes them from one ankle, leaving them hanging carelessly off the other. He takes in a sharp inhale once he sees the tiny, lacy panties that he bought for her. The way they hugged her hips in all the right places and complemented her skin tone so well made his balls pulsate with arousal. In a stupor, he gets down on one knee and parts her legs with his large hand. Her breathing speeds up as he comes face to face with her pussy. He moves her panties to the side, exposing her clit to the cold air. He smiles as she shivers the slightest bit, chuckling at her. “Are you cold, darling?” He asks, admiring the beauty between her legs. Every shade of flesh, every birthmark, the heavenly smell, he could stay in between her thighs forever. “A little bit, yes.” She replied giggling shyly, sitting up and leaning back on her hands. He looked up at her deviously as he replied. “Then let me make you feel warm.” Just then, he threw her legs over both of his shoulders as he dived into her pussy, licking a fat stripe from her entrance all the way to the hood of her lips. She cries out as his tongue makes sudden contact with her heat, causing Konig to reach up and slap his hand over her lips. He removes his tongue from her, sitting up and whispering in her ear, the smell of her thick on his lips. “My dear, be quiet or I’ll stuff my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to fucking breathe. Understood?” He spat, his tone aggressive but his voice staying at a gentle volume. The taste of her on his lips caused a starved part of him to awaken. Her eyes go half lidded in pleasure, seemingly appreciative of his aggressiveness. She moved her hips in impatience, causing a look of amusement to splay across his features. “So…so greedy, mein Schatz." He chuckled as he let go of her mouth, lowering himself to her cunt once more. He flicked his tongue across her clit, causing her legs to twitch and her breathing to fasten. Her hand shoots down and she entangles her fingers in his dirty blonde hair. His stubble rubbed against her inner thighs, causing her skin to turn red and splotchy. He smiled at this realization. 
“You taste like heaven, meine Königin” (my queen)  he breathed against her. He continues sucking and lapping at her clit, and painfully slowing his pace every time she manages to make the smallest noise. He loved playing this game with her. He brought his hand up to her hole, and inserted his long, thick finger into her. His fingertip grazed the swollen walnut of nerves inside of her, and he chuckled when she shook with impatience. He curled his finger, thrusting it in and out of her painfully slow. She covered her mouth with her own hand, all while desperately bucking her hips. He wanted more of her, he needed more. He was sure he was getting himself off more by eating her out than she was. His brain melted at the noises she made, how wet her cunt became, how she clenched around his finger and how she desperately bucked her hips up. She practically rode his face from under him and he knew wouldn’t be able to hold back from fucking her if she kept on like that. He wrapped both his arms around her thighs, the thick ropes of muscles flexing under his skin as he held her still. She fought against him, to no avail. He was bigger, stronger, and hell bent on eating her cunt until she couldn’t take anymore. She whined quietly and breathed heavily against her hand. Konig felt himself losing control with every curl of his finger, and every clench of her hole. But he wasn’t a man who gave up very easily. He began to fasten his pace, curling and thrusting his finger into that very spot that made her swirl while he sucked and flicked her clit with his thick tongue. She mewled quietly, bucking her hips forward in sync with his movements. He felt her clench tightly around his finger, and a slight pulse in her clit that signaled her orgasm approaching. He suddenly retreated from her, kissing her thighs and squeezing the fat of her hips as she gasped. She stared at him stunned as she mewled under him. “K-könig..why?” She whined, tears brimming her waterline. 
“You didn’t think you’d get to cum that easily my little maus, hm?” He teased, rising to his feet and looking down at her like a wolf to its prey. She squirmed under him restlessly, pouting at the fact that he had just ripped her orgasm from her. He shushed her, bending down and pressing his lips to hers. She opened her mouth as he kissed her, the taste of her cunt still thick on his lips. She sat up on her elbows, watching him as he hastily unbuckled his cargos. She bent forward, assisting him in removing his pants. “Look at you, so eager for me.” He mumbled, watching as she impatiently pawed at his crotch. He slid his cargos down around his ankles, and she watched in admiration as he took his large shaft into his hand. She bent forward eagerly, taking the swollen tip of his cock into her mouth. He groaned as she wrapped her warm lips around him, bobbing her head, taking more and more of him with each thrust of her neck. He reached forward and smoothed his hand over her forehead, wiping her hair from her face. He entangled his fingers into her curls, collecting her hair into a ponytail and guided her head to his desired pace. He pushed her head forward, thrusting his hips slightly. He moaned aloud as he felt the tip of his dick hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and moan against him. He felt her jaw relax as she tried her very best to take all of him without fight. “Ja…take all of me, sweet girl, You can do it.” He moaned, tightening his grip on her hair. It took every ounce of his self control to not pound her throat mercilessly, since he knew very well that the thickness and length of his shaft would be too much for her. She wrapped her hands around his forearm, squeezing it and digging her nails into his arm as she took him deeper and deeper with every thrust of his hips. The lewd sounds of her drooling and gagging against his thick cock rang throughout his office. With every tightening of her throat, he felt himself becoming closer and closer to coming undone. He would love nothing more than to spill his load right into her throat, shoving it deeper down with every thrust. But that would be a task for another time. He wanted to do her as many ways possible in the limited time they had. He groaned one last time as he slowly dragged his meaty dick out of her throat, causing her to gasp and inhale a sharp breath of air. He looked down at her as he did this, a glistening string of saliva still connecting them together. Her eyes leaked tears and her face was a deep shade of red, due to the lack of oxygen he had allowed her while she sucked him. He could almost drool at the sight. The sound of her heavy breathing stroked his ears gently as he watched her. 
“You look so perfect like that, my darling. You know how to take me so well.” He praised. He let go of her hair, wiping the spit and tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb as she smiled up at him. She watched deliriously as he brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking the salty tears from it with a devious smile on his stubbled jaw as if he was fueled by the taste of her tears. He gently pushed her on her back with a large hand. He took his cock in his hand and stroked it, still glistening with her spit as he groaned aloud. He approached her, leaning down and popping a breast out of that gorgeous lacy bra he bought for her. He took a nipple in her mouth, causing her to whine and whimper under him. As he flicked his tongue over her nipple, she reached over and entangled her fingers in his dirty blond locks. With one hand on his cock, he brought his free hand to her other breast, switching between them as he fondled her passionately. He chuckled to himself proudly as he drove her crazy with his mouth, tenderizing each breast. He got himself off more by pleasing her and hearing her mewl while he touched her. “Fuck, König. You drive me crazy. You drive me absolutely crazy.” She slurred, tightening her grip on his hair as she brought his head to hers. She smashed her lips into his, kissing him hungrily as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He smirked into the kiss, sneakily lining his cock with her entrance. He wanted to take her by surprise. He wanted to feel how she would fare against his lips as he slammed into her mercilessly. He was in no mood to be gentle at this point. He felt the tip of his meat throb and swell with every pump of his heart, unable to take anymore of this torture. 
He raised from the kiss as he still hovered over her, her puffed pink lips raw from his stubble rubbing against her. He raised a hand from her breast and brought it over her mouth, readying her as she was so blissfully unaware of what he was about to do. He pushed into her suddenly, meeting resistance only halfway. He knew she had to be sore and swollen after she had taken three large, hungry dicks just the night before. The thought suddenly plagued his mind and sent a wave of possessiveness through his blood. She cried out against his hand, and he smiled down at her devilishly, all feelings of gentleness suddenly vanishing from his brain. “Scheiße…du bist verdammt eng, mein hübsches Mädchen.” (Shit, you're damn tight, my pretty girl.) He groaned in her ear, a sweat breaking out on his forehead. Tears brimmed her eyes as he began thrusting roughly, fighting the resistance that his cock met only halfway. He felt her walls clench around him tightly, frustrating him further. He brought his free hand down to her lower stomach, pushing down against the plushy skin of her abdomen. As he pumped himself in and out of her, he could feel the skin around her abdomen grow and shrink under his fingers. He could feel how her cervix fluffed with every thrust, the feeling driving him mad. She whined and whimpered as he did this, the pressure now overstimulating her every sense and making her feel as if she would implode. She breathed heavily against his hand, fighting every urge to scream. Her walls relaxed as he pushed down on her abdomen. “Gooood girl. Relax for me, pretty girl.” He whispered. “I want you to feel all of me.” He groaned as he quickened his pace, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. “I’m going to fuck you raw, until your pretty hole remembers the shape of me.” Her eyes widened at his revelation, causing a shiver of power to raise the hairs on his skin. He removes his hand from her abdomen, now gripping the fat of her hips. He dug his nails into her skin, gripping her hips so tightly as he moved her on his cock as if she were his own personal fleshlight. He moaned into her skin, now glistening with sweat. 
The desk creaked loudly under them as he fucked her savagely, but in that moment he could not bring himself to care. Papers crumpled under her and slid off the desk with every movement. His office was now a mess, papers and pens flying off and clattering to the floor. She parted her legs wider as she got used to the thickness and length of him, now welcoming his roughness with open legs. His hand moved to the inside of her thigh, squeezing the skin roughly, surely to leave more bruises later on. He reached a hand down to her clit, thumbing it roughly and causing her plushy walls to pulsate around him. “You feel so fucking good, my dear. ‘s if you were made for me. Just for me, ja?” He growled, hsi voice shaky with lust. She nodded her head frantically, her voice muffled against his palm. He lifted his hand from her, letting her speak. “Mhmm. ‘m just for you, König.” She whined, her words slurred as his hips slapped against her thighs. “And who does this delicious cunt belong to?” he replies, slapping her breast by the nipple. She jolted under him, her voice stifling as she held back a moan. “You, König. ‘s yours. All yours and no one else.” she slurred, her words strained with passion. He raised his hand and peeled her hair from her face as he let out a low chuckle. “Good girl.” 
He groans into the air, his thrusts faltering as he feels himself getting closer to his end. The pace of his thumb on her clit goes out of rhythm. He feels the familiar tightening of his core, growing with every thrust and clench of her walls. He removes his hand from her mouth and brings her legs up to his shoulders, resting them on either side of his head, the new position allowing him to get deeper and deeper into her womb. “God…You’re going too deep König…feels so good. So good” She cried, barely containing her voice to a whisper. “That’s right, mein schatz. ‘M gonna cum so deep in you. Feel you get so full with my cum, ja?” He teases, feeling her thighs shake with overstimulation. She nods her head, letting out a string of mhmms and yeahs. “Gonna breed you ‘n feel you get so round and fat with my child. You’d be the best mutter to my kids, ja?” He groans, slurring his words as his thrusts get sloppier and sloppier with every pump. “Tell me you’d be the best mama. Tell me” He slurs desperately as he slaps her breasts over and over again, leaving deep red marks in its wake. “Mmm, König. I’ll be the best mama. I’ll be a good mutter to your children.” Just then, he feels her walls flutter and pulsate as she cums, her mouth hanging agape as her brain goes absolutely stupid with delirium. Her thighs shake and her stomach heaves as she cums, her thighs squeezing against his neck involuntarily as her moans ring out into the air. He growls and groans as he follows after her, his cock violently pulsating inside of her as he spills his hot ropes of sticky cum all over her womb. He stays inside of her, his knees shaking and eyes rolling into the back of his head as he leans down, pressing his weight into her thighs. Her breaths strain as he grunts, her knees pressed against her chest. “Scheiße. Mein Gott” Sweat drips from his forehead and around her onto the desk below them. His brain scrambled as he catches his breath. His cock grows limp inside of her as they embrace each other, reeling in disbelief at the powerful thickness of passion flowing through their veins. “What have you done to me, Meine liebe. How have I gotten so lucky” He breathes triumphantly, opening his eyes as he stares at her. He raises his hand to her face weakly, peeling her hair from her face and wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her cheeks are flushed red, her breasts tender and puffed from the brutal treatment they received from his hand. 
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He helps her slip back into her clothes, caressing her hips gently as he stands behind her. “How are you feeling, my dear.” He says, gently brushing his fingers through her curls. “Satisfied like never before, my König.” She says, turning around to face him. She stands on her tip toes as he bends forward to kiss her, caressing her lips with his gently. “Good, I would never leave you any other way.” He replies. He brought his hands to her face, caressing her cheeks in his large hands. She looks to the ground, something seemingly plaguing her mind. “Are you alright, liebling? Was geht in deinem hübschen kleinen Kopf vor?” (What's on your pretty little mind?) He asks gently, speaking to her as if she would break if he spoke too loudly. She looks up at him through her lashes as her lips part, contemplating saying whatever was on her mind. “Do you really think I’d be a good mom? To your children?” She asks shyly, shying away from his gaze. He pauses at her question, a swarm of gentle love taking over his mind. He chuckles lowly as he brings her into a hug. He wraps his arms around her small frame, smiling into her hair as he kisses the top of her head. “One day, yes. I meant every word, darling.” He starts. She looks up at him and takes her bottom lip in her teeth happily. “I think you’d make the best little mutter. Waddling around, calling for me to help you like a little Babyhirsch.” (Baby deer) He smiles down at her, landing another kiss on her forehead. “Good. Sounds like a plan” She says eagerly, giggling softly as she parts herself from their embrace.
“I must get back to work, my dear.” He says sadly,  turning to look at his desk, papers and pens strewn about the floor. “Look at the mess we’ve made, meine liebe.” He turned back to her, still reeling at how he was deserving of this woman before him. He was deemed a battering ram by his colleagues, earning his rank of Colonel from his priceless skills in battle. He was a brick wall, impenetrable by the brutal forces of the battlefield. And yet, the goddess before him had managed to make him weak at the knees, her womanhood turning his brain into a scrambled mess. “How am I so worthy of your love, mein schatz”. 
@spaceboyfr1end @lonely-ofc
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megamindsecretlair · 1 month
Text
If I Took You Home, Part 1
Pairing: Dom!Kevin Atwater x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Food porn. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing, fingering (female receiving), cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. D/s dynamics.
Summary: Your friends were all in relationships so that meant it was time to bug you about your singledom. They were constantly setting you up on dates that made you back out. However, you were sick of saying no and your friend's boyfriend really played up his coworker and friend. It was all true. Your blind date leaves you wanting more.
Word Count: 6,245k
AO3 Link
A/N: Hello, my loves. I am missing Kevin so bad! It's been 3 WEEKS without a new episode. I'm dying over here. Reblog and comment to save a writer's life. And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @nworbaij @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @twocentuar @westside-rot @yaachtynoboat711 @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @bigsisbria @babybratzmaraj @darqchilddaydreamz
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You knew better than to trust your damn friends. You sat at a nice restaurant in a casual berry colored dress, sipping wine and looking like a pathetic loser eating dinner alone. You didn’t have a book to try and pretend like this was planned. Like you decided to take yourself on a date. 
You glanced at your phone. To be fair, you were a bit early. Only because you were so nervous about a blind date to begin with. Why had you said yes? 
You weren’t sure now. Maybe it was your friends and their constant hounding. They were all hooked up with their respective partners so now you were getting the pitying stares. The stressed smiles after they got done gushing about their own dates and partners. As if being single was some type of disease they wanted to cure. 
You took another sip of the sweet wine and thought about canceling. Blind dates were a joke. They probably set you up with some ogre of a man who picked his teeth at the table or scratched his belly after he was finished. 
You looked over the menu to give yourself something to do, so you weren’t just staring at your phone. 
Your mind ran through all kinds of possibilities for this random man you decided to go out with. Maybe he was bald. Maybe he was shorter than you. You didn't mind dating someone short, but they usually had complexes that you weren’t capable of dealing with. Maybe he was a secret chauvinist…
“Excuse me?” You turned your head to the words and got a face full of stomach. You tilted your head up and saw a gorgeous man with hickory smoked skin, dark and luscious beard, and kinked hair. He smiled wide showing a row of beautiful teeth and you were momentarily struck stupid.
“Friend of Claire’s right?” He asked. “I hope.” He chuckled and licked his lips. Your eyes caught the movement, the slow glide of his tongue across the swell of his lips. 
You swallowed a giant ball of stupid thoughts, nodding because you didn’t trust your voice. You were going to have to marry Claire for this one. Absolutely marry her. Her boyfriend, Jay, was going to have to get in line. 
The man stuck his hand out and you looked at it briefly, before looking back into his deep brown eyes. “Kevin Atwater,” he said. 
You sputtered and mumbled out your name, finally taking his hand and shaking it. His hand eclipsed yours, so huge with thick fingers. His nails were clean too. He smiled and finally took the seat opposite you.
You rearranged the napkin on your nap to give you a reason to collect yourself. You were not the type to go all googly eyed for a man. At least not where they could see. When you looked up, you caught the eye of the woman next to you who had been throwing her own pitying looks your way.
You smirked and lifted an eyebrow, communicating without words. She swiftly turned her gaze to her own date, fixing her already neat bun.
Kevin cleared his throat, pulling the seat closer to the table. His legs were so long however, that he still had a lot of room from the table to his olive green button up. It was open at the collar, giving you a peak at his chest and a black tank underneath. A hint of a chain He wore dark jeans and dark green boots to match and a row of bracelets on his wrists. He had already taken off his black puffer jacket when you weren’t looking. 
“You find the restaurant okay?” You asked.
“Yes, ma’am. The parking though?” He asked and shook his head. You giggled, feeling giddy over the ma’am comment rather than annoyed. He said it like it was a casual, Southern thing and not in a teasing way. 
“I know. But I couldn’t believe you’d never been to this place. I thought you grew up in Chicago?” You asked.
“I did. ‘Bout some blocks that way,” he said, pointing South. “But life got busy. Maybe I just needed the right sign to go.”
You smiled. It was a cheesy joke, but why was it working? Perhaps the wine finally got to you, settling low in your belly. Maybe the sudden ache in your pussy was from the alcohol and not the way he looked framed by the wall of lights behind him. Rather than sink out of focus, his face seemed only framed by it. Kissed by it. Like the light settled into his skin with the softest sigh. 
“I’m sorry if I started without you,” you said, grabbing your wine and taking a sip. You’d need your wits about you if you were going to remain cool and calm in his presence. After the disastrous first impression, you needed some points in your favor.
“That’s fine. I probably would have to. What’s that you’re drinking?” He asked. He picked up the menu but didn’t look at it as you told him the vintage. He nodded and gave you an approving grin. 
“Alright, I’ve never had it. Is it good?” He asked.
You shrugged. “Not my favorite but it’ll do,” you said. He grinned and caught the attention of a passing waiter. He ordered some type of bourbon, Old Emmer, and then the conversation turned towards the food.
“Since I’ve never been here, what’s good?” He asked.
The Italian restaurant was famous for a lot of things, but none more so than the lasagna. Every time you had it, you swore up and down that someone in the kitchen was from the Old Country. You could taste the sunshine, hearth, and powdered hands as it worked the dough on the noodles. The tomatoes from the vine in the sauce. That hint of spice from the earth itself. The soft wool of the goat that provided the cheese. And the meat. You resisted the urge to pinch your fingers and kiss your mouth every time you thought of it. 
“I’d say…the lasagna. I can’t resist it when I’m here,” you said. You hoped you sounded cool about it. If given half a chance, your enthusiasm would erupt all over the table and he’d be halfway down the street before you could call him back.
“Lasagna it is, then,” he said. The waiter arrived with his drink and Kevin took a sip. He tilted his whole body back, pulling up his arm so that you had a good look at his throat. The bob of his Adam’s apple as he sipped it down. 
You uncrossed and then re-crossed your legs, your thighs burning in the most unholy way. It settled low in your belly, echoing throughout your core. Nasty thoughts filled your brain. Thoughts you did not need to think about this man that was only sipping a drink.
He nodded his approval and the waiter asked if you were ready to order. Kevin motioned for you to go first, so you ordered the lasagna. Kevin ordered the same thing and then the waiter took your menus.
There was no more armor against Kevin and his attractive smile. “So, what made you agree to a blind date?” You asked. As you tried to steer your thoughts to safer territory, you couldn’t imagine a man as fine as him still remaining single.
“My job doesn’t exactly lend itself to a standard schedule. Makes it hard to meet some folks,” he said. He settled back in his seat and twisted his glass in his hand. The glass looked tiny in comparison. 
You nodded. Claire already told you that Kevin was a cop, like Jay. You asked if it was tough dating a cop. She confessed that it was hard as hell because of the worry. Over the fact that he might not always walk back through the door. And that’s with someone white. Kevin is Black and that brought an extra layer of worry.
You asked if it was worth it. A stupid grin spread across her face. She told you that it was. She’d do it over and over again. Plus the handcuffs helped. 
“Especially someone that doesn’t automatically see you as a person,” you said. 
Kevin nodded. “I’ve had some tussles but I’m still here,” he said. Your eyes darted to his body, taking in his thick muscles and corded forearms. You had no doubt that it’d have to be something huge to strike down Kevin Atwater. 
“I’m glad you are. Okay, but seriously. Help me understand. How do you explain, all of that,” you said and waved to his whole body. “And no long term girlfriend.”
Kevn laughed. “I promise, it’s the job and just not vibing with anyone. There was nothing wrong with them, it just wasn’t there. But now you have to tell me something. How do you explain all of that,” he said and waved to your body. “And no one’s snatched you up yet.”
He smiled and rolled your eyes, refusing to laugh. “I find that some guys these days have to be still carrying around cavemen genes or something. It’s really bad out there,” you said and shivered. 
Truth was, it was incredibly hard to find someone that fit your brand of nasty. You loved sex. Had an insatiable appetite, practically thinking of it 24/7. But you also craved submission. You did so much every day, constantly finding the energy to breathe from second to second. Your work kept you down and your family was demanding. You had to keep up with friends and schedules and made hundreds of tiny decisions every day.
Mentally calculating what was too dressy, too girly, too boyish, too much, not enough. The last place you wanted to have control of was the bedroom. The last thing you wanted to do was order around a man in the sheets. 
Sometimes you just craved masculinity. You couldn’t define it but you’d know it when you see it. The way a man just went around being a man. Flexing muscles, taking up space, manspreading, protecting. What turned you on more was when a man was acting in defense of someone else. 
And it was hard to achieve that with men these days. Because they’d all reverted to primitive, banging on the drums type of seduction. One drink earned them the right to put their hands on your thighs. Buying you food was a ticket to second base. You couldn’t submit if you didn’t trust the fucker in charge of you. 
Glancing at Kevin though, masculinity poured off of him in waves. You wondered what it would be like to submit to him. To hand over your orgasms and watch him treat them with love and care.
Your pussy throbbed in response like she loved that idea. 
“Don’t tell me it’s that bad,” he said and cringed. You gave him a funny look. He shook his head and cursed. 
“Well on behalf of my gender, I’m very sorry. Then again, it brought us together,” he said. He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes at you. You giggled.
“Okay, stop. You know what you’re doing!” You said.
“What am I doing?” He asked. His voice grew a little rougher and you gasped. 
“Looking at me like that,” you said. Your voice grew softer. 
“How am I looking at you?” He asked.
You were saved from answering by the waiter bringing you lasagna. One huge slice was placed in front of you, a sloppy square of dripping sauce and steam. Some of the edges were burned, the tomato sauce dark with spices. It smelled divine. 
Kevin grinned and looked down at his meal. He gave you a wink, like he was congratulating you on a good choice. But you waited until after the garlic bread was placed between you. He picked up his fork and cut a piece of the lasagna. 
Strings of cheese went with it and he rolled it around his fork. He brought it to his mouth and his juicy lips sucked up wayward sauce. You were treated to another sight of Kevin’s tongue on his lips. 
He chewed and then moaned, a low and deep sound erupting from his chest. Your pussy throbbed with the unexpected praise. You felt good to treat him to something you enjoyed. You got the same feeling when you introduced a new artist or song to someone. But nothing as visceral as pleasing Kevin. 
You finally bit into your own lasagna and closed your eyes, a moan escaping you involuntarily. You even did a little jig, as the food brought so many flavors to your mouth. Something savory with a tiny hint of sweetness. The cheese and noodles complementing each other so well. The meat soaked with the sauce that made you imagine ripened red tomatoes. Plump with flavor. 
You remembered where you were, on a whole ass date with a literal offering from the gods. You opened your eyes and looked at Kevin who sat still with adoration all over his face. Like he witnessed the most magnificent phenomenon and couldn’t make sense of it. 
You gave him a sheepish grin but he gave you a shimmy back. He turned it into a Black person acknowledging that the food was good. No words necessary. Just brown eyes meeting brown eyes. 
Conversation turned towards family as he talked about having to help his brother and sister after his dad went to prison. You nodded along, knowing that dance all too well. He glowed with pride as he talked about his siblings and how it was hard being their father and their brother. 
He admitted they fell into some drama some years ago, but they were all heading towards healing. He was sad for the childhood he lost, but he would do it all over again. You wondered what it would be like to be so positive like him and Claire. The way they saw the bullshit day in and day out and got completely opposite experiences than you. 
You tried not to be a storm cloud, shitting all over what came your way. You couldn’t help it. Negativity was safer. A constant hammer against your soft heart to try and harden you up. But you still had that need to empathize with everything and everyone. And so in the end, it hurt just the same.
You told him about your family and friends and how you came to know Claire. You asked about him and Jay working together and he said that they got off to a rocky start, but ended up being brothers on the other side of it.
You loved listening to him speak. The deep, whispery tone of his that instantly put you at peace and your core set to burning. You longed to hear that whispered in your ear while he did something disgusting to you later. 
Yeah, you’d already decided. You were taking this man home with you and you were going to hand him the reins. You hoped that he delivered. That his smooth and sexy interior matched the drop dead gorgeous exterior. 
You were needy with want. Wanting him. It was an insane thought. You’d only just met him. But his vibe put out someone trustworthy and you always trusted your instincts. 
Dinner flew by with more fascinating stories from Kevin. You delved into past relationships and laughed at each of his horror stories. You told some of your own and was mortified how you could be so blind at the time. 
You had a second glass of wine and he had more bourbon as you shared a dessert. The gelato was sweet and icy. You scooped some on your spoon and made a show of putting it in your mouth. Nothing outrageous, just something to tease him with. 
He lowered his eyes to your mouth and you felt desired. You felt settled in your body. It was a heady feeling and you knew that it had all to do with Kevin. Once he paid the check, absolutely refusing you when you told him that you should pay since you suggested the restaurant. 
You walked outside into frosty Chicago. No matter the time of year, it was a bitter place to be. The wind howled around your shins. You brought your coat closer around your neck. Kevin walked you to your car. 
You didn’t have to walk so close together. He didn’t have to reach an arm out to keep your balance on low heeled shoes. Yet, your shoulders constantly bumped into his and his arm casually went around your shoulders. 
You talked and laughed, dreading every inch of sidewalk you covered. You didn’t want to leave him but you didn’t know how to transition from this date to taking off his pants. When you got to the car on the driver’s side, Kevin smiled at you. You smiled back.
He stepped forward, pushing into you. You walked backwards until your back hit the side of the car. He pinched your chin, bringing your face closer to his. His eyes never left yours while he tilted his head.
“Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this,” he said. His lips brushed against yours and you sighed. You wanted to whimper. 
“I feel it too,” you whispered.
“Come home with me then. Follow me home,” he said.
“I’ll follow you,” you promised. You’d follow him anywhere. This was the most radical thing you’d ever done in your life. Going home with a man after one date? The scandal of it all would turn your friends’ heads. Not to mention, they’d tease the fuck out of you about your blind date going well.
He smiled against your lips, lightly pressing in. He tasted like the bourbon he drank with a hint of pasta. It was a delicious spicy and savory mix that made you lean in for another one. He gave you a brief kiss and then pulled back. 
“I’ll see you there,” he said. He opened your car door behind you, smiling at you, and then tucked you in. You put on your seatbelt and he closed the door with a tap. He finally headed down the street to his own car. You started your car and pulled into the street. 
The blast of warm air from the heater was just what you needed. Except it’d probably make you sweat harder between your thick thighs. You needed his hands there already, spreading your legs so he could look his fill. You could picture it all so well. So vivid. 
He pulled out into the street and you followed him to his place. To his credit, he didn’t speed up or take close lights so that you couldn’t follow. He put his blinker on way ahead of time so you didn’t have to scramble after him.
He led you to a corner building that seemed to be an apartment. The faded blue blended well into the dark night, reflecting the stars above. You found available parking and then got out of your car, looking for Kevin.
He walked down the street to you, collecting you from your car with that wide grin of his. His breath fogged into the night time and you smiled. You took your purse with you. You wrapped your hand around his forearm and he led you to the front door. 
Inside, the place was as cramped as the rest of Chicago, yet roomy enough that you felt like you could breathe. The inside was nice. There was no peeling paint or stained walls. All of the lights worked and there was a first aid kit inside the doorway. You smiled at Kevin. He told you that he bought a building and planned on getting it fixed up. Something to fall back on after he was done with the force.
He led you to his apartment on the first floor and in the back. His apartment was well decorated in dark tones of mahogany and deep steel blue. There was brick on some walls and it all fit with his dark furniture. It was clean and homey at the same time.
There were sweet smelling candles on the coffee table and newspapers beside at a safe distance. He had a record player next to his TV and a rack of vinyl records underneath it. He turned on ambient lights, enough to set the mood without it being sleazy.
He took your coat off and then his own, hanging it on a rack behind the door. You couldn’t walk two feet forward before he grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall. He thumbs rubbed your hips back and forward. 
He hummed and moved his body closer so that from the chest down, there wasn’t an inch of space to be found. He was so tall. So imposing. So incredibly taller than you that your brain melted.
“I can give you the tour now or later. If it’s now, you’ll take your clothes off for every room we visit. If it’s later, it’s straight to my bedroom but I take my time,” he said. 
Your body shivered. You were paralyzed with indecision. You wanted to do both. At the same time. You bit your lip, thinking about which you wanted more.
Kevin smiled. “Now it is. The foyer counts as a room,” he said. 
You giggled because his “foyer” opened directly into the kitchen and living room. But you took off one shoe and Kevin smiled. He moved you into the kitchen. “The kitchen,” he said. 
He smelled so good, his natural scent filling the room since you were no longer outside. The kitchen was clean, dishes put away and a healthy row of seasonings. He knew his way around a kitchen.
You took off your other shoe, teasing him by technically following the rules. Just because you wanted to submit didn’t mean you couldn’t put up a fight. He took your hands and led you to the living room, his stormy gray couches made lighter by the few throw pillows. He turned on the light in the hallway, and led you to the bathroom. Your dress fell from your shoulders, around your hips, and down your legs. The shimmery material tickled your skin. 
He showed you the bathroom. You were already wet from the timbre of his voice. Giving him a strip show and delaying the pleasure only made you unbearably wet. There was a particular ache in your pussy that you needed filled as soon as possible. 
You glanced around the bathroom, his enormous shower. You took off your bra, sliding it from your shoulders and looking at him from behind your shoulder. He leaned against the doorway, filling it completely. He blocked out most of the light behind him and sucked in the warm light in his bathroom. 
He had a lean to his wide hips and a hand on his belt. The other was above his head. He scratched his head as his eyes looked over your body. “Turn around,” he ordered.
You did as he said, turning around so that he could see your body. He walked closer, eyes straight to your breasts. Your breathing increased, watching him look at your body and find you appealing in so many ways. 
He stopped in front of you and leaned down, planting a kiss to each breast. He hummed low in his throat. “I almost can’t make it one more room,” he said.
You grinned. You took his hand while he brought you to his room finally. It definitely looked like him. Nice, clean, but an air of feeling lived in. He had photos of his siblings in his room, some artwork, and his huge bed. It had to be two king sized beds put together. Or maybe it was just your imagination. But you knew that he was tall as hell so he needed a bed big enough.
It was the final room. Kevin led you further in, half closing the door. He trailed a finger across your shoulders as he walked into the room, taking off his green button up. He stood in a blank tank underneath. 
Next went his jeans. He kicked off his shoes and then tugged the rest of his pants off. Now he had dark gray briefs and a black tank on. He looked like the poster child on the packages men’s underwear came in. 
He sat down on the edge of his bed and beckoned you to come closer. You walked closer, the natural swing in your hips making you feel powerful even though you were handing yourself over to this man. 
It felt naughty. It felt kinky. You finally found someone who could help turn your brain off. Someone who made you so hungry with desire that you didn’t notice anything else. You stopped in front of him. 
“Panties,” he said.
A small word but a physical effect on you. You trembled with need while you slipped your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and tossed them to the side. Kevin’s gaze drifted down your body, stopping at the juncture of your legs. 
Kevin crooked his finger and then you stepped forward, straddling his thick thigh. You whimpered at the pressure to your clit. Kevin grinned, gripping your ass and putting you in the spot he wanted. Somewhere between his knee and his hip, where you were perfectly balanced.
“Let me watch you give yourself pleasure,” he said. It wasn’t a question. More like a soft plea wrapped in a demand. He deferred to your choices while still taking charge. You nodded.
You put your hands on his shoulders and gyrated on his leg, rubbing your pussy on his thigh. He had coarse hair there, but it only served as an extra bit of friction against your pussy. You whimpered more, finding a rhythm that rubbed against it well. 
“Open your eyes and look at me,” he said, that whispery tone tugging on a muscle in your leg. It jumped as you moved your body back and forth. 
You opened your eyes and stared into his while you got yourself off on his thigh. He had one hand on your ass, squeezing every so often while you whimpered and whined. “Come on, let me see you let loose,” he whispered.
You whimpered more, getting closer to the sound of his voice. “Let me see it. Let go,” he continued.
You gripped his shoulders and squeezed your legs, so impossibly close. You gave one final sigh before you did explode, cumming on his thigh. You twitched and jerked, cries escaping from you. 
“Hmm, cum so pretty,” he mused. 
He brought his hand down between your legs, spreading your arousal on his fingers. He moaned at how you soaked his thigh. He rubbed your clit before pushing his fingers inside of you. His fingers searched inside while he brought his lips to yours.
He treated you with a tender but scorching kiss. The kind that made you curl your toes. He nibbled on your bottom lip. You cried out as he rubbed against a deep part inside of you. He flicked his fingers a few more times and you knew that he found your sweet spot.
He mercilessly rubbed it while you sputtered and moaned. You clung to him, hands fisting his tank top. “Shh, don’t fight that shit. Cum again for me,” he said. 
You huffed in a delicious, torturous pain. You were trying. You didn’t mean to fight it, only that you were so turned on. You were afraid that you’d rip apart at the seams and never find a way back to your body.
But you continued to look into his drunken eyes, kissing along your mouth. Till it turned sloppy. Till you couldn’t keep your eyes open a second longer. You felt your orgasm approaching once more. You were still nervous, but there was no holding this one back.
You gave up the fight, letting the orgasm wash over you. You were right. It tore you into tiny shreds. You cried out, twitching in his lap. His other arm came around to hold you still while he continued to finger fuck you.
Your legs shook on him while you rode an intense high. You never wanted to come back down. Reluctantly, you did. Kevin slowed his fingers and then finally brought them to your lips. He painted your lips with your cum and you smelled yourself.
Your pussy clenched and Kevin grinned. He kissed you, licking your essence and sharing it with you. Your tongues mixed and danced. You clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck. 
You made out for some time. Felt like an eternity. Like you spent thousands of years kissing him and it was enough to sustain you. You began gyrating on his leg again. So fucking insatiable for a man of his size.
He pulled back slowly, keeping your lips pressed together for as long as he could. “Never gon’ get sick of that,” he said. “Now I wanna taste it.”
He made you stand up. Then he stood up himself, once more dazzling you with his height. He pushed you onto the bed and commanded you to open your legs. He palmed himself, adjusting his thick bulge, and then climbed onto the bed. He pushed you to the middle so that he had enough room to lay down.
He stared at you while he lowered his mouth to your pussy. The swipe of his tongue made you cry out. You came twice already, both times you jumped out of your skin. But you were greedy for another one. Rewarding him with moans every time he made you feel good.
You couldn’t contain them. He made out with your pussy. Licking before suckling your pussy with his juicy lips. You moaned, grabbing his head and pushing him deeper. He brought his fingers up to finger you again, spearing you with his thick digits. 
“Oh, Kev–” you moaned. “Kev!” 
“Say my name again,” he moaned against your pussy.
“Kevin!” You obliged, thighs tingling. You tensed, eyes rolling to the back of your head. This orgasm was another intense one. Robbing you of breath and sight. You lost control of your body as you spasmed on his tongue. Kevin moaned while he sucked up your essence. 
He stood up, and pulled his fingers from your pussy. He sucked on his fingers and moaned, winking at you. He pulled off his tank and then his briefs went next. His gold chain glinted in the low light. He gathered up some of your slick, rubbing the length of his humongous dick with it.
He was easily the biggest you’d ever taken. Long and thick, he had been hiding an entire monster all night. 
“I’m clean,” he groaned, yanking on his meat. You whimpered, following the motion.
“I am too. I’m on birth control,” you said. It was your turn to wink at him. 
“Let me fill that pussy up then,” he said, groaning as his hand moved quicker. He stopped long enough to gather more, playing with your pussy before leaning back to rub the tip of his dick. 
“Fill me up, Kev,” you begged and laid down. 
He gripped your legs and pushed them over his elbows. He hauled you closer and you yelped. Being manhandled sent a shiver down your spine. He spread your legs wider and then guided himself to your entrance. 
You pushed your hand against his chest as he began to breach. He was so big. If it hadn’t been for the foreplay, this would hurt even more. He chuckled. “You can take me,” he promised.
He pushed against your hand and feeble attempt to slow him down. You hissed as he pushed inside slowly, pulling out and then pushing back in. You grew wetter around him and he groaned as it became easier for him to stroke.
He began to move his hips, rolling into the stroke and you hissed with more pleasure. He filled you up completely, taking him just like he said you would. 
Your teeth chattered as you stared into his eyes, a look of sweet pain on your face, you were sure. You began to whimper, a growing storm deep inside. “I know, I know,” he cooed, continuing to stroke that long dick of his. 
You cried out, his dick hitting your sweet spot. His mushroom head glided against your inner walls and you scrambled for something to hold onto. Your hands found his forearms.
“Kev–” you cried, not enough breath to form his full name. He leaned down and kissed you on the forehead. 
“Be good for me and cum on this dick,” he commanded. 
You bounced on his dick, wetter by the second. He groaned as you slid easily on his dick. “Cum on this dick, cum on this dick,” he chanted over and over, his harsh breath fanning across your heated, sweaty skin. 
“I’m–, oh fuck I’m–” You groaned, throwing your head back while you came. You squeezed the hell out of his dick, holding on for dear life.
Kevin groaned on top of you, his strokes having to slow down while you came. “Fuck, pussy feel even better,” he said. He kissed your forehead again and panted. 
He was still stroking, getting stronger with each slide. “One more,” he pleaded.
Fuck! You couldn’t! It’d been a while since someone tore your ass up. Your solo adventures never quite getting you there that many times. However, underneath Kevin, you felt another stirring. This one was quick. You felt it coming and yet you felt like it’d snuck up on you. 
You convulsed on his dick with loud, whimpering cries. Broken and estranged sounds escaping you. 
Kevin moaned, dropping his sweaty head to your chest. His lips found your nipples and he sucked on them, alternating every so often until they were hard little buds. He kissed along your neck and shoulder, stroking deeper at the closer contact.
You moaned, nails digging into his back. He moaned in your ear while his strokes increased. As if he had been holding himself back earlier and now he could let loose. Now his strokes could turn sloppy and desperate. 
“Finna nut,” he moaned.
“Nut in me, Kev. Please, please,” you begged.
“Beg for this nut,” Kevin hissed, pressing his lips to yours. When he pulled back, you sniffled.
“Please Kev. Please nut in me,” you begged.
Kevin groaned, leaning up slightly and climaxing. Hot pulses of cum filled you and your body jerked, feeling the warm length of him inside you. Kevin pushed his hips in like he was trying to keep his cum inside. Let it soak deep into your pussy.
Kevin’s lips found yours in a sloppy, messy pattern and you licked at his lips, completely spent. He grinned and finally pulled out of you. You moaned as his cum slipped out too. Kevin lowered your legs, pushing them open so he could watch himself drip out.
Satisfied, he gave you a final kiss on the forehead. You sighed, settling into his bed like you were settling against a cloud. He returned from the bathroom with a warm washcloth and cleaned you off. He put it back into his bathroom and then he crawled into bed, turning off the lights beside him.
He was warm, impossibly so. Like a furnace all by his lonesome. You turned onto your side and he snuggled against your backside. “That was incredible, thank you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. 
“I should be thanking you,” you said, with a small chuckle. 
He began to nibble on your ear. “Stay tonight. So I can wake you up to my fingers between your legs,” he whispered in your ear. 
“I can’t say no to that,” you said. You didn’t know the proper etiquette for a one night stand. Were you supposed to dip? Were you supposed to stay? One night stand implied that you weren’t going to see him ever again.
But you wanted to keep seeing him. You wanted to experience this over and over again. The way he established control but still gave you plenty of chances to back out. You didn’t have to make major decisions and didn’t have to worry about anything but receiving pleasure. You were thoroughly hooked and needed far more than that.
“Maybe I should feed you some dick. See how well your mouth takes it. If it’ll be anything like your pussy,” he said. 
Your pussy clenched with his filthy words. Somehow lulling you to sleep. You were incredibly warm. He pulled the covers over you, trapping you with all his heat. 
“So many things I wanna do. Maybe I should tie your hands behind your back and face fuck you until I cum all over that gorgeous face,” he said.
You moaned softly, tiny gasps that filled the quiet space. “Please,” you whispered. You didn’t know what you were begging for. A break? You had so many orgasms tonight, you lost count. More? You couldn’t survive another one at the moment, but fuck it. If you passed out, then you just passed out. 
He chuckled and kissed your cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” you said. You fell asleep with a goofy grin on your face.
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Need more Kev in your life? The Secret Kevin Atwater Files
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more eva saccharine pleasee
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💄 Eva's dyed blonde hair has been the envy of many. It contrasted very well with her dark skin and green eyes. People often staring at you both as you walked down the halls, you were flustered most of the time. Mainly because Eva always made you wear a top that showed off your collarbone and back after a long night of cumming into your insides. Showing off the hickies she left just hours earlier
👠she wants atleast 3 kids, coming from a small but loving family. She thinks you'd look absolutely beautiful carrying her offspring. Often times getting a boner straining against her skirt just thinking about it.
👜 before meeting you she was quite a bit of a player. Breaking hearts here and there, even cumming inside a few to relieve stress. But afterwards? She stuck to you like glue. Suddenly she was tucking that monster dick in-between her legs and only whipping it out if you asked her to
💄 once, some smartass thought it would be a good idea to hit on you. Right Infront of her. It didn't end well for him. Later that night, after Eva fucked your brains out as usual, she took a video of her fully hard cock still inside you. Thrusting slowly and zooming in on where your body's kept meeting. The video picked up on all your little moans and whines. Guess who she sent the video to afterwards
👠Eva fucks you like an animal. She's happy to out a baby in your belly anytime, anywhere. Just make you bring the condoms unless you want to actually get knocked up. The mating press and full Nelson are her favorite positions
👜 if you ever suggest a threesome with Sam, she'll reluctantly consider. As long as it makes you happy, she guesses she can share you with her ex? Let's just say by the time it's finally done, you're covered in Eva's cum and Sam's slick. Sam being the horndog he is, would probably lick it off you
💄Eva has a thing for stretch marks, belly rolls, body hair, etc. She loves to bite anywhere she can reach, and besides it's all natural! There's nothing wrong with that. She's down to do try anything as long as she gets cum inside you by the end of it
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malusokay · 1 year
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How to be like Jang Wonyoung
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As many of you requested, part 2 of my it girls series is all about Jang Wonyeong, who's not only absolutely STUNNING, but also incredibly talented, hardworking, and of course successful. Let's get right into it!! <33
Wonyoungs Energy:
Wonyoung is incredibly charismatic, which makes her stand out without even trying!!
She has a bubbly and likeable Personality, Wonyoung appears happy and welcoming, she easily lights up a room with just her presence.
Aside from being cute and cheerful, Wonyoung is also known for being extremely hardworking!!
Confident and Unbothered. Despite receiving quite a bit of unnecessary hate, Wonyoung stays indifferent and true to herself!!
Elegant and feminine. No one does the ‘Elegant feminine self-love girly’ aesthetic like her, she is THE girly girl!! <3
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Mindset:
Learn to deal with jealousy, Wonyoung gets plenty of hate, but let's be real for a second… we all know that is because of jealousy. Pretty, successful, smart, and popular? Of course, people will be jealous!!
“While practising self-love, you see good and pretty things about yourself. If I focus only on those things, I don't need to pay much attention to the criticism.”
Don't compare yourself to others “You are you, I am me”.
Keep to yourself. Stop telling people your ideas, your dreams and how you plan to archive them, your goals etc. Let your actions speak for themself!! <3
No more negative self-talk!!
Be your number 1 priority!! Take care of yourself, do what's good for you, eat well, care for your body, skincare, haircare, and your education!! PRIORITIES
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Skincare
Skincare. Wonyoung has Flawless skin, finding a skincare routine that works for you can help you archive similar results!!
Wonyoungs skincare routine:
According to Google, Wonyoung only uses Innisfree products and starts by double cleansing her face, for that, she uses the Green Tea Cleansing Oil ($24), and the Green Tea Amino Acid Face Cleanser ($12)
To get the dewy class skin effect, hydration is key!! In the morning, Wonyoung likes using the Green Tea Hyaluronic Acid Serum ($30) and the Dewy Glow Tone-up Cream ($26)
Of course, you can't forget SPF. Wonyoung uses the Mild Cica Sunscreen Tone-Up SPF 50+ PA ++++, which is also great for acne-prone and sensitive skin types!! :)
For her night routine, she likes the Retinol Cica Moisture Recovery Serum ($37) and the Dewy Glow Jelly Cream ($26).
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Elevate your daily life:
Healthy diet. Eating nutritious and healthy food is the first and most important step to clear skin and an overall good feeling!! Make sure to eat enough protein (ex. yoghurt, chicken, tofu or eggs), lots of fruits and veggies, and healthy fats (ex. Avocados, fish, nuts, olive oil)!!
Exercise daily. Besides dancing, Wonyoung loves pilates!! You can find lots of great Pilates videos on YouTube!!
Work on your posture!! Having good posture will not only make you feel better but also lets you appear more confident, elegant and put together. Try daily stretching and exercises to improve it <3
Try establishing a proper morning and night routine, this can help you stay structured and relaxed even on more messy and busy days.
Content that makes you feel better!! Start watching channels like thewizardliz, vogue beauty secrets, and read motivating blogs. (like mine lol <3)
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Makeup:
Wonyoung is known for her iconic glittery and feminine make-up!!
Light pink blush, plump lips, glowy skin and a glittery but not too heavy eye look.
Foundation on the centre of your face and blend outwards for a naturally contoured look.
Always apply your matt products before your shimmers, that way, your makeup looks cleaner!! Also, apply your glitters from finest to chunkiest. :)
Don't apply your shimmers/glitters past the middle of your eyelid to avoid looking puffy.
If you have warm-toned skin, go for peachy glitters, for cool-toned skin, choose a champagne-coloured one.
If your struggle with dark under eyes, blend your concealer with your fingers!! This will give it a lot more coverage.
You can find lots of tutorials on Wonyoung-inspired make-up on YouTube, this one is my favourite.
I hope this little guide was helpful, I wasn't too familiar with Wonyoung, but I did some research since she was the number 1 most requested person for this!! :)
As always, please feel free to share your own suggestions in the comments and let me know who you want me to write about next! <3
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
1K notes · View notes
tommydarlings · 11 months
Text
Little Love Letters | c.s
pairing: dark!neighbour!mean!dom!carlos x sub!reader
warnings: psychotic behaviour, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, pure manipulation, inappropriate usage of ropes, usage of a knife, smut, cnc, dacryphilia, forced blowjob, gagging, brief mentions of killing somebody, brief mentions of stalking
w/c: 3.1k
summary: After receiving multiple creepy letters by an unknown stranger, you scarily run into the arms of your sweet, spanish neighbour carlos — sadly, you ran into the worst embrace you could have possibly ran into.
check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +50 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3
Feeling lonely in your 20's is probably something a lot of people feel. The problem is, that literally all of your friends — who are the same age as you — are most definitely not lonely, they are either in a relationship or already married, one of your old Highschool friends just recently gave birth to her little babygirl.
And you are not even able to remember the last time when you talked to a man that wasn’t your gay best friend or your neighbour carlos.
Carlos, the kind Spaniard next door was very sweet and also quite attractive in your opinion, but you still never really felt the specific spark between the two of you when you crossed paths and talked for a bit.
But even though you had no partner and only a few friends that you barely saw since you’ve moved, you didn’t feel that alone.
Especially not since some unknown stranger — or maybe even 'secret admirer' sent you letters, every. single. day.
At first, you thought that it was a joke and ignored it, but after you’ve received the fourth letter, you knew that this was not a joke, this was serious.
Of course it scared and confused you, since nobody expect for your three friends know your new address, but at the same time, it wasn’t that bad.
Sometimes, this mysterious stranger filled the letter with sentences like,
“Each time i see you, you only get prettier.”
“You are the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, my love, ever.”
“I wish I could kiss you right now beautiful, wish I could feel your lips on mine.”
But sometimes they brought tears out of pure fear into your eyes,
“One day I will get you into my hands and I will never let you go, I promise you that y/n.”
“You will be mine, if you like it or not my darling, you will be mine.”
“I would kill for you, I would do absolutely anything for you y/n, anything you want me to.”
You gulped as you read those words, sometimes even wiping some tears away since some of his letters were filled with dark and psychotic sentences like that.
And since you were so scared — and also since it got everyday only worse and worse — you ran to the only person that you knew in this new town, your neighbour Carlos.
When you knocked in his door on a cold night at around 9 p.m., Carlos looked at you like you were crazy since you were only in a lose pair of jogger and a thin tanktop, making him quickly step aside and lead you into his cozy and especially warm home.
“Cariño, what are you doing here, don’t you have a jacket or a coat? C'mere,” he told you, placing his hand onto your back and leading you into his house, “It’s so cold outside, you’ll probably catch a cold y/n.”
But you only shook your head before you sat down onto the big couch in his living room, biting your lip before he got on his knees in front of you, being almost at eye level with you now.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Carlos quickly raised his brows before he scanned your body with his eyes, rough palms reaching out to grab your hands, turning your arms around and glancing at your unharmed skin.
You sighed before you pulled your arms away from his touch, briefly making him gulp. And if you haven’t lost your mind already, you could have sworn that you’ve noticed that he looked rather mad at you for a quick second as you basically threw his hands away, but you were probably just seeing things by now.
After letting out a long sigh, you shook your head, “N-No, I’m not hurt, don’t worry Carlos,” you spoke up, making him release a long breath, “I guess I’m just a bit…scared,” you admitted as you felt tears building up in your eyes, quickly trying to blink then away as the Spaniard furrowed his brows,
“Scared? Of what?” He asked you, lightly stroking your legs with his big palms now, listening to your voice explaining everything to him,
“It’s just, there are those extremely weird and scary letters that I’ve been receiving for a while now-”
Carlos immediately interrupted you, “For a while? Cariño, for how long? Why have you never told me,” he asked you in a strong Spanish accent.
“About a month now-”
“A month?” The Spaniard raised his brows, caressing your legs, “You should have told me y/n.”
You gulped before you shook your head and muttered a quick 'it's nothing' before you went on,
“Of course I felt a bit…watched as I got the first letter but the letter was actually filled with…really nice and sweet words, so I just smiled before I threw him away,” you continued your story, swallowing down some tears while you felt Carlos squeezing your knees almost like he was mad about the fact that you threw them away,
“But after some while the letters got…worse.”
Carlos tilted his head to the side, shaking his head before he spoke up with furrowed brows, “What do you mean when you say worse?” He asked you, thumb caressing your cold skin now,
You cleared your throat, “Well, they got creepier, sometimes this unknown stranger wrote things like, 'I would kill for you' or 'I am the only one you’ll need for the rest of your life,” you told him before you sniffled, quickly wiping a single tear away, making Carlos change his almost too serious facial expression in a matter of a second.
“Oh no, cariño,” he immediately spoke up as he noticed your wet eyes. Carlos raised one of his hands and wiped your tear away, cupping your cold cheek with his big, warm hand afterwards.
“Don’t cry, I know that all of this is very scary for you,” he mumbled reassuringly, “If you don’t feel save enough in your house, you can stay at my place tonight,” he suggested as you looked down at him, “I will keep you save, I promise,” Carlos told you with a sweet smile, making you laugh into his palm.
Carlos briefly laughed along before he stood up, towering over your sitting figure now, hand brushing your hair out of your face now,
“I will always keep you save, mi cariño,” he told you with more of a serious tone, only a tiny smile covering his lips now, making you quickly furrow your brows before you smiled up at him,
“Thank you, Carlos.”
“Oh,” he chuckled before he made his way to the kitchen, “No need to thank me.”
You wiped some more tears away before you stood up, Carlos standing in front of you now with two glasses filled with probably very expensive red wine, making you gasp.
“Only one glas, cariño, c'mon,” he smiled at you, basically pressing the glass filled with the alcoholic beverage already in your hand without giving you a chance to say anything.
You chuckled and flashed him a wide smile before you mumbled a quick 'okay', both of you saying a quiet 'cheers' before you emptied your glasses, Carlos closely watching you while you just enjoyed the wine.
“Wow,” you spoke up as you handed him the glass, “That was a really good one, not gonna lie…definitely needed that one,” he laughed at your statement, cleaning the glasses while you just stood in the big kitchen, slowly blinking your eyes.
Carlos turned his head and looked back at your slightly stumbling figure. And if you weren’t hallucinating, you could have sworn that you saw him smirking at you.
You gulped before you released a deep breath, smiling in his direction, or at least you tried to smile in his direction, “That w-was a s-strong one,” you chuckled before you heard Carlos chuckling as well, making you furrow your brows as you felt like the entire room was spinning around you, groaning as you squeezed your eyes shut.
“Oh really?” He asked you, honestly, you were very surprised that you were even still able to understand him.
You swallowed before you touched your head, desperately trying to stop the spinning, “Y-Yeah, a very, very s-strong one, c-carlos,” you whined out, gulping a second time.
you blinked another time, and another time — and this time, your helping neighbour stood right in front of you.
“C-Carlos, I don’t feel,” you breathed out as you felt like you were on the brink of fainting, “so g-good,” you finished your sentence, quickly falling straight into the arms of the Spaniard, passing out in his warm embrace.
Carlos sighed after he caught you, “Each time I see you, you really do get prettier mi cariño.”
- - -
Waking up with a headache, with the feeling of a bit of dizziness and ropes around your wrists and ankles, was definitely something new for you.
Desperately, you tried to get free by tugging on the ropes that are attached to the wooden bedposts but no matter how hard you tugged on them, I didn’t work, there was no chance for you to escape any of this.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Carlos suddenly spoke up, making you lift your head and look with wide eyes at your Spanish neighbour. You gulped before you spook up with a trembling voice,
“C-Carlos,” you nervously breathed out, furrowing your brows as he stood next to your tied up figure, fingertips now gently running up and down your bare leg since he only left you in your underwear. “W-What is g-going on?” You asked him as you felt his hand creeping closer to your barely covered pussy.
Carlos only grinned down at you before he answered your question, “Let’s play a little guessing game, alright?” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your answer.
Suddenly, Carlos pulled a little but sharp pocket knife out of his pocket, opening it, clearly wanting to make sure that you know how serious he is about his 'little guessing game', so you quickly nodded your head.
“Good,” he replied before he went on, “Do you think that… a man, send you those letters?” He asked you curiously, making you slowly nod, “okay,” he nodded along your silence answer, “Do you think that the man that send you those letters, knows you? I mean, like, has seen you before in person?”
You gulped before you nodded again, briefly squeezing your eyes shut as his big fingers started to circle your clit,
“Do you think that you know him?” Carlos asked you, briefly focusing his gaze onto his moving fingers now before he looked back at you.
You nodded again as tears build up in your eyes, hands tightly gripping the ropes as you felt like you were getting close to your release.
He nodded along again, “okay,” he quietly muttered, “Listen, I’ll give one last hint, alright?” Carlos asked you, making you quickly nod again,
“He said that if he gets you in his hands one day, he will never let you go, he promised you that,” he told you with a wicked smile on his lips right before you widened your eyes, tears gliding down your heated cheeks as he made you come through your panties with the tip of his fingers.
You wildly trashed around as you gasped and choked on your cries, sniffling and whining while Carlos slowed his movements down, eyes still looking at your face. He groaned,
“Just like that, mi cariño, that’s my good girl,” he whispered before he asked you, “Who do you think wrote those letters now?”
You gulped with fresh tears in your eyes as you looked up at him, squeezing your eyes shut as the realisation came over you, “Y-You did.”
He nodded, “That’s right, smart girl,” he quietly replied with a smile as his fingers left your pussy, gliding down to you ankles now,
“Since you were so smart and won the little game, I’ll get you out of those ropes now, okay?” He raised his brows as he lowered the little knife towards your ankle.
You barely had enough time to nod before he already removed the ropes around your ankles, quickly freeing your hands as well, giving you the ability to slowly sit up and look at him,
“What do we say? Thought you were so smart, baby.”
You gulped with tears in your eyes, “T-Thank you,” you slowly and softly replied, making him proudly smile down at you,
“No problem,” he replied with a nod of his head.
Then, Carlos stepped away from the bed, taking a few steps backwards until his back almost hit the door, making you furrow your brows before you wiped some of your tears away, focusing your gaze on his movements.
Carlos wiggled his pointer and middle finger in his direction, “C'mere,” he demanded in a quiet but stern tone, making you gulp before you stood up as well and slowly took cautious steps in his direction.
As soon as you were right in front of your fucked up neighbour, Carlos raised his head, clearly showing you that he’s visibly taller than you, making you feel unbelievably small in front of his broad figure.
“Get on your knees.”
You opened your mouth as you raised your head and looked up at the Spaniard, biting your lip as new tears made their way into your already wet eyes, “Oh no, no, no, mi cariño,” Carlos suddenly spoke up in a way softer tone as he cupped your cheeks, wiping some of the tears with the pad of his thumb away, “Está bien, solo ponte de rodillas por mí.” It’s okay, just get on your knees for me.
Without saying or doing anything else, you lowered yourself onto your knees since you were genuinely scared of him at the moment, knowing he could do anything he wants to you.
“Fuck,” Carlos mumbled under his breath, slowly running his finger through your hair, “Such a pretty sight, mi cariño,” he whispered in a deep tone while his other hand slowly unbuckled his belt, quickly freeing his very obvious erection.
You blinked some tears away since it all got so blurry by now, gulping again as he put the tip of his big cock in front of your still closed mouth.
“You know what to do, c'mon.”
Sniffling one last time, you opened your mouth, letting him shove himself into your mouth, hearing him groan and moan as he shoved himself so far into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.
“C'mon,” Carlos whined a bit, faking a pathetic pout as you just focused yourself on breathing through your nose, “J-Just like that, f-fuck yes,” he groaned as you squeezed your eyes shut and took him as far as you possibly could, briefly making him smile down at you.
“Buena chica.” Good girl.
You whined around his big, wide dick, fingers squeezing his navy blue slacks as fresh tears blurred your vision again as you looked up at him while he forced himself down your throat.
Your neighbour groaned as he caught your gaze, briefly chuckling under his breath as he noticed your smudged mascara under your eyes. Suddenly, he quickly removed himself from you, having a tight grip on your head by the roots of your hair, “Apologise,” he demanded in a deep tone, making you furrow your brows as you sniffled.
“W-What?” You spoke up in a quite and unsure tone, “For what, c-carlos?”
Carlos threw his head back before he growled, harshly grabbing your head and forcing your face towards his erection again, mercilessly shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, making you gag again.
But he only forced himself for a split seconds down your throat, then he pulled out again and forced you to look up at him, “Apologise,” he harshly repeated but you were still confused.
You whined, “F-For wh-” but before you were able to finish your sentence, Carlos forced his cock down your throat again, holding your head in that exact position for a few seconds before he let you go and pulled away again, groaning as he did so while you only whined and sniffled, quickly wiping some of your tears away.
His next move suprised you a bit, Carlos slowly bended down so he was eye level with you and wiped your tears away, pouting a bit and actually looking sad and sorry, “Do you really don't know what I mean?” He asked you in a rather kind tone, quickly making you shake your head as he wiped new tears away, stroking your cheeks afterwards.
He slowly nodded, “okay mi cariño, I’ll give you a hint again, alright?” He tilted his head to the side before you nodded your head, “o-okay.”
“What did you do with the first letters after you’ve read them?” Carlos asked you in a deep but kind tone, making you bit your lip as you through about what you’ve done after you’ve opened them and read them — and then it made click.
“I-I threw them a-away,” you slowly answered as soon as Carlos rose to his feet again, sternly looking down at you now, “exactly,” he nodded.
You gulped before you squeezed your eyes shut and quickly spoke up, smiling a tiny bit to make it seem more believable, “I am s-so sorry, c-carlos,” you wildly claimed, “I regret t-throwing them a-away! I swear t-that as soon as I-I'm home, I’m g-gonna get them o-out of the trash b-bin and f-frame them in my b-bedroom, I promise!”
Carlos only furrowed his brows and confusingly tilted his head to the side, “As soon as you're home? Mi cariño, you are at home! And don’t worry baby, I’m gonna go over to your house then and get them out of the trash bin for you and frame them myself,” he proudly told you, “and then we can hang them up! Either in the living room or the bedroom, wherever you want pretty girl,” carlos stated with a small smile as you gulped before you slowly nodded,
“O-Okay,” you answered before Carlos spoke up again, “Does that sound good for you, baby?”
You quickly nodded, “Y-Yes carlos,” you said, “sounds g-great.”
He stroked your cheek, briefly bending down to kiss the top of your head, “Perfect, I love you,” he claimed with a happy smile.
You looked up at him, briefly furrowing your brows before you replied, “I l-love you t-too.” You mumbled as you leaned into the touch of his palm with salty tears in your eyes.
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pit-and-the-pen · 1 month
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Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!
Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.
The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.
Hope you like it! <3
Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!
WC: ~1.7k
Divider by @cafekitsune
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My  wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height. 
When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch. 
Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out. 
I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.
Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.   
I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter. 
A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk. 
“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down. 
He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.
“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg. 
“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom. 
People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame. 
“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out
“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.
“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach. 
“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest. 
“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses. 
“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly. 
“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins. 
“Bite me.”
 “With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand. 
“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles. 
My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side. 
“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.  
“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back. 
“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. 
“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder. 
He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks. 
“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up. 
I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle. 
“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear
“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”
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whispering-ways · 26 days
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡ i like you (too much) - part 2 ♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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♡ summary: you just joined a new high school and you're hoping to make a bunch of new friends. unfortunately, you're paired up with Katsuki and he seems to despise you. nevertheless, you're determined to make it work. little do you know that you're first interaction would lead to a wonderful friendship and possibly even more.
♡ pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader
♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)
♡ notes: hi besties! here's part 2 to the first chapter. i should have more time to work on this story and a bunch of other fics since I've officially graduated! i hope you guys like this chapter and let me know if yall want more :) the pink text is the readers texts and the orange is Katsuki.
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You heard the alarm on your phone ring, waking you up for the morning. Groggily, you reached over to your nightstand to turn it off. You rub your eyes, tired from having to wake up so early the last couple of days. The bus at your new high school came around 6:45, which meant that you had to wake up at at least 5:35 am to get ready. A part of you liked getting up so early; it made you feel on top of things, a true it girl. But the rest of you ached to just swaddle yourself in your plush blankets and sink right back into bed. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit. 
After you splash your face with some water you stare into the mirror, taking notice of your dark circles. “Damn I might need to start using an eye cream or something soon, waking up so early is not doing justice to my skin,” you said out loud. As soon as you said it though, you knew that was a lie. You knew in your heart that the only reason why you were so tired every morning is because you spent every night texting Katsuki. 
By now you figured that he was definitely a night owl but unfortunately, you weren’t. You had always been the type of girl to sleep early, prioritizing your 8 hours of sleep. But if there was one person who could make you disregard your routine, it’d be Katsuki. Over the last couple of days, you both had gotten closer. You’d been talking at school and texting each other seemingly non-stop and you’d say a decent friendship had formed between you two. Something about his texts made your stomach fill with butterflies and you couldn’t help getting excited every time you saw a notification from him pop up on your phone. 
You spent nights staying awake texting Katsuki till 1, 2 3 in the morning. Even when your eyelids felt like they could no longer remain open, you’d do your best to stay awake to not miss a single text. Was it a bit much? Yes. Should you be putting a guy before your beauty sleep? Probably not. Did you still do it anyway? Absolutely. It’s not like you didn’t text him in the day, but after school, he barely texted you besides the occasional response after a couple of hours. He just seemed to come alive in the night. That’s when you’d get your near-instantaneous responses and true conversations. So if talking to him meant staying up at night, you were willing to do it. 
You’d done a good job so far of staying awake in class; after all, you didn’t want to miss out on notes. But after a couple of days, your exhaustion had just gotten to you.. You were tired, the lecture seemed to go on an on forever, the teacher’s monotonous voice, it was the typical recipe for drifting off. With your head in your hands, you felt your eyes start to blink slowly as they got heavier by the moment. Before you knew it, you felt your eyelids close. You didn’t know how long you were asleep. But your teacher’s voice immediately brought you back to reality.
“(Y/N), could you tell me what the answer is to Question 3?” the teacher said, her voice startling you awake. Your face burned with embarrassment as you flipped through your notes to find some way to solve the question. As you couldn’t find any way out of the situation, your shame grew and grew. All of a sudden you felt a sharp nudge to your arm coming from beside you. You turn to see Kastuki clearing his throat, and pushing his worksheet towards you. At first, you’re confused but then the pieces clicked in your head once you saw him pointing to the same question the teacher was asking you about.
“(Y/N)? Answer the question please, we don’t have all day.” your teacher said, her tone getting more frustrated. 
“Uhhhh...2?” you answer hesitantly, glancing quickly towards Katsuki’s paper to make sure you said the right number.
“Oh, yes, that’s correct. Next time, still pay attention to the lecture,” the teacher said, moving on with her presentation.
“Thank you so much, you saved my ass just there.” you whisper to Katsuki. “I would’ve gotten laughed at for sure if I got that wrong.”
“You don’t need to thank me, that’s what friends are for, stupid,” he replied with a smile. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d never really seen his smile, it was just downright adorable; surprising for someone who looked so intimidating. You were so wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t catch yourself staring. “What, something on my face or some shit?”
“Uhh...no, nothing at all, you’re all peaches and cream.” 
He chuckled in response and turned around, leaving you to your thoughts.
“Peaches and cream?? Who even says something like that anymore?? Stupid, stupid me and stupid, stupid thing to say and now he probably thinks I’m weird and strange and ー” your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the bell releasing everyone to go to lunch. You started packing up your laptop and your notes, glad that there were no more chances to get embarrassed by the teacher again, at least for the next hour. 
You feel yet another nudge, and you turn towards Katsuki. “Hey do you wanna share lunch with me? I don’t know if you’ve got a lunch packed already but like I accidentally packed two sandwiches and I’m on a cut and I only wanna eat one sandwich, and I don’t wanna waste any damn food. So like if you want you can have the other one or something,’ he says.
“Yes! I mean, yes that would be nice thank you so much, what kind of sandwich?” you reply trying to not sound too happy at the offer. 
“Well I don’t really know what it's fucking called, but there’s some grilled chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and I think some spicy mayo in it. That sound good to you?”
Your mouth watered just thinking about it. “Yeah dude, that sounds great, thanks again! I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, and then do you wanna meet up at the cafeteria?”
“Nah, I'll just wait for you. Plus I don’t want you getting lost or anything trying to find me.” Katsuki replied walking towards the bathroom. You thank him internally; you had no clue where the bathroom was anyways. After a couple moments, you both get to the bathroom. As you head inside, Katsuki leans on the wall of lockers nearby, plopping his backpack down on the floor. 
He double checks to see whether you’ve truly gone inside and puts his face in his hands. He was hoping you didn’t notice how red he was on the way to the bathroom. “I didn’t think it’d actually work, holy shit,” Katsuki thought to himself over and over again. If truth be told, Katsuki didn’t make any extra sandwiches.
That morning Katsuki got up early to make lunch for school, not because he was a morning person, but because of a small detail you mentioned last night. You both were having your usual nightly talk when the topic got to food. 
“Yeah I like to cook a lot honestly! I haven’t really made anything recently, but hopefully I can get more into it soon.” 
It surprised Katsuki honestly, he never took you as someone who’d like to cook. 
“Oh word, that’s cool, any reason why you like it tho?”
“Yeah, I mean like I guess its just my love language? I love to cook and just make people happy through food :) I usually cook for my family a lot.”
“That’s honestly pretty fucking kind of you. Who cooks for you?
“Ah, I mean its just me cooking at home, so no one really lol.”
“Damn, its gotta be tiring cooking all the time tho”
“Yeah sometimes, but yk like I said its my love language so I don’t mind. But thats why I just get food from the cafeteria, its just tiring most times to cook for everyone and do lunch lol”
Katsuki read your text and laid his head back on his pillow, arm across his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His stomach filled with excitement. Just like that, an idea brewed in his head. He wasn’t a good cook by any means whatsoever. Besides making a mean microwaveable ramen, he didn’t know how to make much but he was gonna do his best to make lunch for the both of you tomorrow morning. You fell asleep soon after that, but his idea kept running in his mind for the rest of the night. 
He spent the rest of the night scrolling through TikToks, trying to figure out some sort of recipe that was easy but something you’d like. And that’s when he had his eureka moment. There was grilled chicken in his fridge and he was sure there had to be some topping in there too; he could make grilled chicken sandwiches. All he could hope for at that point was whether it’d be good or not. 
The next morning he woke up determined to make you the best fucking sandwich you’d ever had. 30 minutes later and he accomplished his goal. As he drove to school, he hoped you’d like it when he realized he forgot a vital part of his plan. “How the fuck am I gonna tell her about lunch?” 
He wracked his brain for any more ideas. Katsuki didn’t want to come across too strong, but you just deserved something nice. Finally, he settled on telling you that he just had an extra sandwich. After all, honesty was the best policy and he technically did have an extra. He honestly thought you’d refuse or have some sort of lunch with you already. But when you said yes, he was absolutely elated. He tried his best to cover his enthusiasm, but now it was written all over Katsuki’s face.  The grin hadn’t left his face since you both started walking to the bathroom.
The soft tug to his jacket sleeve brought him out of his thoughts. “Hey, thanks for waiting! Do you wanna maybe go to the library instead to eat? The cafeteria is always so fucking noisy and I’ll barely be able to hear you talk,” you ask.
“She wants to hear me talk; she wants to hear me talk,” Katsuki thought gleefully. “Yeah sure, I don’t mind,” he replied, trying to play cool.
After walking to the library, you both find a quiet spot in the back. You and Katsuki sit down, side by side, before he pulled out two small plastic bags from his backpack. He passed you a sandwich and waited anxiously for your reaction.
You look at him quizzically. “Why the fuck is he just staring at me and not eating at all?” you thought before taking a bite. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Katsuki.
“What? What? Is it bad or something? You don’t gotta fucking eat it if its that bad,” he says.
“No, Katsuki, its perfect! It's really really good!” you reply, diving back in for another bite. You skipped breakfast and your stomach had been grumbling all throughout class and this was just the perfect fix.
“I’m glad you like it. I made it myself,” Katsuki said with pride, a smile stretched across his face yet again. How could he not smile when you looked so precious?
“Are you for real? That is so sweet of you! Kastuki, I’m for real touched you thought of little old me, you sat leaning over to wrap him in a hug.
Katsuki’s whole face turns red, hypersensitive to your touch. If he knew making you a sandwich would get you close to him, he would've made you lunch way sooner. 
You break away and continue eating your sandwich as Katsuki starts to eat his. You’re so engrossed in your meal that you don’t notice Katsuki staring at you, still red and stomach filled with butterflies.
When you got home, you immediately went to your room, thoughts of lunch on your mind that had nothing to do with being hungry and everything to do with a certain blonde. “He made me lunch. Like from scratch. Like who does that?? As if he’s already not cute enough, now I’ve got him cooking for me,” you thought. 
That’s when a thought quickly crossed your head. “Does he maybe like me?” It only took you a few moments with that idea to make you absolutely flushed. “There’s like no way, right? I’m me and he’s so cool, and plus I’m just being delulu because there’s literally no way. Exactly, there’s no way he likes me right?” you say to yourself. 
You tried your best to focus on your homework for the rest of the night, trying to get thoughts of Katsuki out of your head. But every so often thoughts of that darling smile or his piercing eyes or how he smelt like burnt caramel when you hugged him kept creeping into your mind. It didn’t help that he was texting you too. With every single thought and text, the feeling in your stomach just got stronger and stronger. It was a weird mix of butterflies, anxiety, and giddiness and God you loved it so much. You gave up on your homework and laid on your bed, starting to drift into your usual daydream. 
You closed your eyes, curling up into your blankets. You imagined Katsuki’s arm coming from behind you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you close to his bare chest. His arm slide up your arm, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Just as he kissed the top of your head, you heard a voice call out, bringing you back to reality abruptly. 
“(Y/N)! Come down for dinner honey!” your mom yelled. You let out a sigh; you were so close to the exciting part of the dream too. 
"Coming, Mama!" you cheerfully replied as you quickly slipped on some cozy slippers for comfort. As you finished getting ready, your thoughts wandered, wishing your daydreams were real life. With a sigh, you brushed off those feelings, "I'm just being silly. I know he'll never see me in that light."
Meanwhile, on the other side of your street, Katsuki was having some day dreams of his own. He still hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. It was like whole world around him gained color the second you walked into his mind. All he could think about after lunch was how it felt to have you so close to him. His thoughts were filled what how it felt to have your arms around him. You were so much warmer than he imagined. And thinking about how your chest slightly pressed into his bicep sent him into overdrive. 
With all his heart, he wished he could’ve hugged you back, even if it was just for a second. He engraved every detail of your embrace in his memory, filing them away in his memory. Katsuki hoped that one day he’d be able to sweep you into his arms and hold you close. But until then, thoughts and daydreams would have to do.
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mewhenimanangel · 11 months
Text
spiderboy, miles morales x fem!reader
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part 1! ʚɞ part 2 ʚɞ part 3 ʚɞ part 4 ʚɞ part 5
pairing: earth 1610! miles morales x reader
synopsis: you didn’t think anything of it when you bumped into miles on your first day at visions. it slowly became one of the best things to happen to you.
wc: 1.9k
warnings!: cursing
You got ready for your first day at Brooklyn Visions Academy. Your mom had decided to send you there for better "academic challenges" or whatever. You were nervous but found solace in knowing you'd already have a friend there, Zoya Hart. You’ve been friends since the third grade, absolutely inseparable.
You put on your uniform skirt and finished your makeup. New school, if you didn't make a good first impression, at least you’d look good. "Y/n hurry up! I've gotta go!" your mom called out from the kitchen. "Mommy just go! I can walk" you applied her lip gloss in the mirror. "Ah-ah, you're gonna be late. Hurry up"
You rolled your eyes spraying perfume over your body. Grabbing your backpack you shoved in your books and pencil case inside. "Wait mommy I need to fill up my water bottle" you rushed to the fridge and pressed it against the water dispenser. "Come on!" your mom yelled walking over to the door. "Wait I need my headphones!" you ran to your room to grab the earbuds sitting on the dresser, quickly scratching your cat's head "Bye Bobo" you breathed out before rushing out the door. "Baby it's school what do you need headphones for?" your mom grew irritated. "If I don't have these, I'll literally kill myself"
"Aye, I told you to stop saying that!" you both walked out the door, locking it. Getting in the passenger seat, you checked her appearance on her phone, fiddling with the nose piercing that sat on her nostril. Your blonde box braids were in two pig tails, edges laid flat. You wore a gold necklace with a pendant in the shape of a bow, you loosened the tie around your neck. "I hate this stupid ass uniform" your mom laid a smack on your thigh. "Watch your mouth!" "Ow mommy sorry!" you exclaimed rubbing your hand over your leg.
You plugged your earbuds in, listening to music until you saw the school in the distance. Your heart sped up as you took her headphones out, tucking them in her backpack. "Alright baby have a good day okay. Make me proud, I love you" your mom said giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Love you too mommy bye" you replied getting out of the car as she drove off.
You opened up your phone to Zoya's contact.
'i'm here and i'm shaking where are you??' you sent a text.
'in the principal's office'
'surprise baby i'm your tour guide :P' Zoya replied.
You felt yourself bump into another body. Looking up from your phone you saw a boy with a dazed expression on his face. The boy wore a pair of Jordan 1 bloodlines, a tiny spider-man figure on his backpack. He was about four inches taller than her and a bit lanky, his skin dark brown. His hair was a taper fade with kinky curls, his eyes were dark brown almost black shade as he stared at you.
"I'm really sorry about that" you apologized putting your hands out in front of you "Ah it's cool, no worries" he brushed off with a smile. "Um do you know where the principal's office is?" you asked looking around. "Yeah, I can show you. Are you new here?" he asked leading you down the hall to the right. "Uh-huh" "New to New York?" he asked again. "Nah my parents just thought this would be a better school". He nodded his head as they came to the front door of the main office. "It's the one on the left. I've gotta get to class though. I'm Miles by the way" he said, waiting for you to respond. "Y/n" you replied with a smile.
He walked away when you made your way to the principal. "Y/n!!" Zoya exclaimed, going to hug the girl. She had a light tan complexion, pink lips and a bright white smile. Her hair was a beautiful ginger color with her curls falling past her shoulders. Zoya was about two inches taller than you, wearing a pair of platform doc marten 8053s. Her 'Z' necklace rest on her chest along with your matching bow necklace.
"Ugh I am so glad your parents sent you here!" The man behind the desk cleared his throat, alerting the two girls of his presence. "Oh sorry, Y/n this is Mr. Hale, our principal." He reached out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you, Ms. L/n". She smiled as she shook his hand "Nice to meet you too, sorry I'm late" "No matter, it's your first day, just don't let it be a frequent problem." he sat back down in his chair.
"Alright, here's your schedule, look over it while i pull up your file" he handed you a piece of paper with all of your classes for the day.
'English Language Arts 11' 8:30 AM
'Modern Us History' 9:34 AM
'Ceramics 1' 10:38 AM
'Algebra 2' 11:42 AM
'Lunch 2' 12:45 PM
'Physics' 1:19 PM
'Sociology' 2:27 PM
He gave you all the information she needed: locker number and code, teacher's names, grade expectations, your guidance counselor's name and office, etc "Alright, I'll have Miss Hart here show you around." he said as the two of you made your way to the door. "Have a good day and good luck settling into your new classes. It's only September, so I'm sure you haven't missed much." he bid goodbye.
You and Zoya got to your locker as you attempted to put the code in. "Right, left, right" Zoya instructed. The locker popped open and you sorted out your things. You saw Zoya look over her shoulder at her sister, Maya. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" she asked the girl. "Yeah, but I don't wanna be" Maya replied giggling. "Heyy, n/n! I forgot you were coming here." Maya said hugging you. "I'm giving her a tour of the school" Maya said, opening her phone to take a quick selfie with you. "Oou can I come?" Maya chirped. "Youu have a class to go to." Maya rolled her eyes and left you two to start your tour.
Zoya intertwined her arm with yours as you walked through the school. She showed you the gym, the library, the cafeteria - all huge. She showed you the student council room, the dorm halls - which wasn't necessary since you wouldn't be staying there, they made their way over to a big window in the main hallway which overlooked a courtyard where she found people sitting outside and a teacher have a class.
"This place is so fancy, shit" you exclaimed. "Ahhh it's aight" Zoya joked. Anyways, let's get you to class." It was 8:45 now and Zoya knocked on the door of your first period. "Meet me at lunch, good luck" Zoya kissed your cheek and walked away. "Well class, we have a new student joining us, Miss Y/n L/n"
Your day went pretty normal, people were nice enough to you and you talked to a few people, making their acquaintance. The bell rung which meant it was time for you to go to lunch and finally see your friend again. You sent her a text asking her where she was sitting when you bumped into someone again. "Woah, gotta stop meeting like this" the boy said letting out a light laugh. "Yeah, my bad" you let out an awkward laugh. "You have lunch now too?" he asked you "Yeah, actually I'm waiting for my friend-" you was interrupted by a hand on your shoulder.
"Hey, I'm starving let's go in the line" Zoya said. "Oh you know Zoya?" Miles said, dapping her up. "Yup, since third grade." "Cool well see you around, preferably not bumping into you" he joked and walked away with his friend. "How do you know Miles?" you asked her as you walked over to the lunch line. "Classes, plus he knows Peter." she replied, getting a cheeseburger and fries. "Why, do you think he's cute?" she teased . "Oh he's realll cute" you giggled.
You made your way over to a table where Peter, Maya, and a girl you didn't recognize were already sitting. "Yoo, n/n how you liking the school" Peter said, as he dap you up. "It's alright, fancy as fuck though" Zoya sat down next to Peter, giving him a kiss on the cheek, while you found a seat next to Maya. "Hey, I'm Kiona" the girl you didn't recognize spoke up. "Y/n, you're so pretty by the way" you smiled at the girl. "Aww thank you, you too"
Lunch ended as you and Peter parted ways with everyone. "Physics is brutal but Mr Johnson is chill as fuck" he informed you walking into the class. Peter took his seat as Mr Johnson spoke up "Ah, Miss L/n, nice to meet you. You can take a seat back there next to Morales" he pointed to the back of the room where Miles was sitting, already looking at you. You smiled at the boy and made your way to the back. "Hey" he whispered to you . "Hi" you replied. "Didn't know we'd have this class together. Shoulda told me" "You didn't ask" you joked, opening a notebook.
The bell rung and you got your stuff together "Hey what's your next class?" Miles asked, stacking his notebooks. "Sociology" you answered, putting papers in a folder. "Ah I don't have that" he said, disappointed. "Walk you to class?" he offered. You looked around and saw that Peter already left, so might as well. "Yeah, sure".
"This isn't going to make you late is it?" you asked him. "Nah it's in the same-". All of a sudden Miles tensed up and there was a loud booming noise coming from outside. Everyone in the hall, including you and Miles ran to nearby windows to see what was going on and here was a fire emerging from a bank down the road. You looked to your side to see that Miles wasn't there anymore. Out of nowhere, spider-man swung over to the bank stopping the guys who were trying to rob it. Everyone cheered when he brought the guys out, tied up in his webs
When school ended, Zoya and Maya came up to your locker as you were packing up to go home. "Hey n/n, you going home?" Maya asked, biting into an apple. "Yeah, it would be cool if i stayed in the dorms. Buttt that's mad money spending so nah". You gave the girls a hug and made your way out the building. "Oh Y/n, you're not staying in the dorms?" Miles asked, coming from the nurse's office with a few bandaids on his face and bandage on his arm. "No, what happened to you?" you asked pointing at his face. "Tripped down the stairs on the way to seventh period". You stifled a giggle and nodded your head. "Uh you want me to walk you home?" he offered.
You furrowed her eyebrows in confusion "You don't really have to do that.." "O-oh uh I was just offering, I'm not super busy right now and didn't want you to be alone-" You put her hand out and giggled "Okay yeah you can walk me home" He smiled and skipped down the steps to join you. "Don’t you get in trouble for leaving the dorms without permission?" you asked looking up at him. "Ah sometimes but I get my way out of it"
"So what happened earlier? You disappeared when the  fire happened." you asked him, finally. "Oh I had....gotten..scared" he said, looking up. "Oh..okay. That's normal I guess" "Well this is my stop" you said, walking up to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow" he said waving goodbye "See you" you said with a smile, unlocking the door.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months
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All I see is Red ♦️
Leon S. Kennedy x reader
A/N: holy shit, this took me so long to edit fml it's the longest thing I've written so far. I also think it's terribly paced, but I'll leave that to you. I hope you like it anyway <3
~Fi 🐝
《Warnings》: ADA SLANDER. Girl is getting wrecked in this one. Ada's a bitch. Reader is absolutely furious, Leon is supportive but a lil bit useless, description of injuries, feminine rage, RC flashbacks.
《Word count》: 6.1k
Inspired by this post of mine <3
Reader's codename is 'Loon/Loony' after the bird!
Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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Red. A color that held many a mystery, signifying an infinite amount of things and emotions. Every shade as different as the next. Ruby, crimson, maroon, burgundy.
Where others commonly thought of the symbol of love, a deep red rose, or perhaps the pale plush on the cheeks of newly confessed lovers and the sensuality of passionate nights, you saw different things.
Your relationship with the color red hadn't always been a complicated one, not until that fateful night. You wished you could go back where red was just that; red, a color, nothing more. Not something that had you anxious and alert.
You didn't see love, passion or deep devotion. What you saw where the horrors of human greed and pride. You saw the blood dripping from the gnarled jaws of the first infected you'd ever encountered at the gas station with Leon. You saw the red lights of broken down and abondend cop cars. You saw the red of dismembered police officers and civilians.
You saw the red of Kendo's Gun shop and the redness his daughter, Emma, held in her eyes. You saw the red of lieutenant Branagh's bloody finger prints in officer Elliot's notebook. And you couldn't get all the other shades out of your head- especially not the red of her dress, or the red dripping from his shoulder because he took a bullet for her.
It only ever haunted you, the tearing lump of flesh that once was Dr. Birkin, or the blaring red lights deep inside the NEST.
It wouldn't leave your mind. It was filled with red, overflowing with its common link to anger. The hot, excruciating fury that boiled in your veins when the facade of the woman in red broke into two, revealing what she really was.
You thought, as you watched her fall and saw the ruby shade being enveloped by unforgiving black, that you could move on.
But you never did. You never could. The betrayal and anger were still deeply rooted in your veins. But not only for what she did to you, but what she did to him. How she used and abused his kindness, loyalty, and care for her gain, pretending to care only to repay the both of you like this after you'd saved her.
But you weren't alone, fighting to stay afloat in the red sea that was trying to drown you. You changed your approach.
Instead of all the blood and anger you saw in red, you tried seeing Claire's jacket. Or the woven, red hair band Sherry wore. As well as the redness in Leon's cheeks after all the running and fighting.
You tried seeing the dark, dull shade that soaked his bandage, signifying that it was over. You were safe, he was safe, Claire and Sherry were safe. And it worked.
You saw the shiny crimson of Claire's bike, the leathery red of a matching jacket that Sherry desperately wanted, and the beautiful shade of the single rose that Leon gifted you on your first date.
You even saw the pale red reflections of the lovebites that littered your skin from time to time, courtesy of Leon.
The red of that nights horrors slipped to the back of your mind, just like the red of the Umbrella logo and the red cross that sat exactly where Raccoon City once was, standing out against the pale paper of a map.
All was well as love and passion took the reigns on the red in your mind, but if course things don't stay well forever.
And your peace was broken when you caught a faint glimpse of red from the corner of your eye.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
This place wouldn't have been your choice of a vacation destination, but lord knows the government doesn't give a shit about that.
The village was rundown, muddy, and most importantly, full of walking corpses.
Unbeknownst to you, of course.
The horrors had started ever since you and Leon stepped out of that god forsaken car, the red of blood, innocent blood, forcing its way into your mind once again.
You tightly gripped the red ammo box you'd just picked up from the ground after Leon had kicked a wooden crate into splinters.
"Hey, hey, easy! You're shins aren't made of steel." You scolded the blonde agent on your left, who only responded with a very playful eye roll while checking the mag of his gun.
"Don't you worry about my bones, Loony." He chuckled, patting your shoulder.
"Don't call me that! S'not my fault you got the cooler codename." You grumbled. "And for your information, Loons are excellent swimmers!"
"You see any water?" He shot back with a grin which earned him a huff from you.
Your gaze turned back to the pale red box in your hand, slight indents forming where your fingers were as you subconsciously squeezed it a little too hard.
The edges were worn and the colors were dull, but the bullets inside clinked together like the shuddering melody that haunted you ever since Raccoon City.
Leon noticed your dazed stare at the small container, they way your brows were scrunched together and the structure of the paper box crumbling under the hard grip of your hand.
"Hey, you okay?" He asked softly, firmly placing one of his hands on your shoulder. Your head snapped towards him, his gentle words pulling you from your trance.
"Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly, shoving the box into your pocket.
"Alright. Let's see if the locals know something." He replied firmly. The air he had about him told you he hadn't completely believed your answer and that he would keep an eye on you.
The last thing he needed was you getting in your head. He needed your full support and attention in order to pull this off.
You were about to respond when a small zip sound made you whip your head in its direction.
"Did you hear that?" You fully turned to face the way the sound came from and narrowed your eyes to see whether whatever caused that noise was in your sight.
"Hear what?" Leon asked puzzled.
"It sounded like a... a zipline or something." You glanced at Leon, who still had his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Never mind." You muttered, walking past him towards the village entrance.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The locals did know something. They knew that they definitely did not like the two of you and that there would be nothing more satisfying than watching you burn.
The haunting screams of one of the Spanish Police officers echoed off the broken and shitty houses as he went up in flames.
"Jesus Christ.." Leon breathed out, reaching for his gun.
"This is not gonna be pretty." You mumbled, aiming for one of the villagers, who had noticed you by now and were storming in your direction, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet hit him right between the eyes with a splat sound and your eyes widened when he only held his head before continuing his way, lit torch in hand.
"What the fuck..."
Leon looked just as shocked as you, but didn't hesitate to feed the fucker four bullets to his forehead until he finally toppled over.
"Something's not right." You stated quietly, a crease between your eyebrows.
"We'll talk later." He said firmly, aiming his weapon again. Giving him a sharp nod, you moved in and took out any local that blocked your way.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You had underestimated the number of people that lived here. You were completely surrounded, standing in the Plaza of the village, careful not to slip on the muddy ground. Leon's back was firmly pressed against yours as you tried your hardest to fight off the horde.
The once quiet town was now filled with the piercing sounds of fired shots, the unholy screams and screeches from the townspeople and the heavy thud of bodies falling into puddles.
Your elbows were locked as you mercilessly took down local after local, only stopping to quickly reload your pistol. While reloading, you noticed the smallest flash of bright red flitting over the terracotta roof tops.
You froze and, stupidly, lowered your guard as your eyes were frantically searching for whatever that was. The fact that it was red made your blood solidify in your veins and your breath to get caught in your throat. It was as if time around you slowed down, the images of that night seeping into every crevice of your mind. The blood, Leon's blood, the lights, Kendo, and his daughter, Dr. Birkin and her. It all hit you again like a truck that was carelessly speeding down the road.
But you had no time to get lost in those horrific images swirling in your head or to slip into a panic attack because you were tackled onto the dirty ground, wrinkled hands wrapping around your throat, squeezing tight.
You were struggling for air, desperately clawing at the discolored arms that quite literally held your life in their hands. An old woman had jumped on top of you, screaming phrases you couldn't understand in your face as her spittle landed on your cheeks.
Her face was sunken in, more than it should at her age, and the veins around her eyes seemed almost black. And in her eyes there was only rage, a burning fire just like the one they'd lit before.
You were thrashing your legs, anything to get her off and her hands away from your neck. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded, your heart pouding in your ears. Leon came to your rescue quickly, harshly ripping the woman away from you and shooting her in the head twice with no hesitation.
"Loony, are you alright?" Leon asked firmly, keeping the few remaining residents at bay.
"Yeah, I... don't worry about me.." You heaved, soothing the red mark on your neck. You were coughing and panting, trying to steady yourself. Leon had given you a very sharp look that said I'll take care of this. and you weren't about to argue with him. There was no point in wasting precious ammo with how shaky and unreliable your hands were at the moment.
You dragged yourself behind a small fence and took deep breaths, pressing the heel of your palm into your temple.
Suddenly, the loud sound of the church bell bounced off the buildings and everything went eerily quiet. The once furious and aggressive villagers now slowly made their way to the church, mumbling soft illegible words and phrases.
They payed no mind to Leon as they brushed past him like nothing happened and he didn't exist. The door fell shut with a heavy sound after all the remaining people had entered. Leon turned in confusion.
"Where's everyone going? Bingo?" He huffed, his voice being the only thing heard, besides the soft crackling of the fire at the stake, and the quiet rustle of leaves as a soft breeze passed through them.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"What the hell happened back there?" It was clear Leon wanted an answer for your little freeze up. He knew you, and you would never let someone, or rather something, get that close to you.
"I... just got distracted." You mumbled, keeping your eyes on the sweet cow you were currently petting. Leon had gone looking for more supplies in the empty houses and had spoken to Hunnigan about Baby Eagle's whereabouts while you stumbled upon the gentle creature chewing on some grass in one of the open stables.
You needed to get your head back on right, and scratching the cattle helped clear the fog over your mind. It mooed softly and licked at your hand and you could feel the roughness of its pink tongue against your palm. Leon sighed and tipped his head forward.
"We can't afford distractions, Loony. You know that."
"I know. I just... have a really bad feeling about this. It's like... we're being watched. And I saw something red moving across the rooftops and I.. got inside my head. It won't happen again." You kept your voice small and quiet, looking down to hide the faint spark of shame in your eyes.
You wouldn't fuck this up. You couldn't fuck this up. You needed to pull yourself together and get back to the task at hand.
"Good." Leon said softly, placing his hand on your shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
He wished he could do more. He wished he could take you into his arms and kiss your forehead. He knew how odd and complicated your thoughts on the color red were. You'd told him all about it, and he held you through it all, as the two of you relived that nights events in your own minds.
But you'd set a strict rule. Absolutely no display of affection during work. The risk of the enemy finding out was too high, and they would surely use that newfound information to their advantage.
It wasn't easy being in a relationship and then working together like this, but you made it work. You made it work purely because you worked. You matched Leon perfectly, and he matched you.
You were a dream team to the government, which is why they kept you close. And now you would use your skills as a team and save Ashley.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Ending up in this Castle had not been part of your plan. It was an impressive building, no doubt, but the light marble walls and beautiful greenery that was littered with colorful little
blooms painted a wrong picture of its owner. The... host, shall we call him, hadn't given you one second to breathe. You were running and fighting, and running and fighting, and occasionally taking a hit or two to shield Ashley from as much harm as you could. It was all so... familiar. It felt like just how you tried to shield and protect Sherry from Chief Irons.
It made your head cloudy with bad memories. The constant separation from Ashley reminded you of how you somehow always caught up in the middle. You'd started out in the Police station with Leon after the crash but ended up in the orphanage with Claire, trying to rescue Sherry.
Well, that's not quite true, actually. Claire needed your help, so you left Leon... with her.
She seemed trustworthy enough with those big three letters plastered next to her name. What a fucking mistake that was.
There hasn't been a single day where you don't regret your decision. You felt so betrayed, and you still do. You were used just as much as Leon, putting your trust into someone who would've left you to die.
The memories rippled in Leon's blood, staring you right in the face, as you took a look at his injured hand. Whatever was inside of you had gotten inside of Ashley's mind, causing her to attack Leon with a knife. It sliced open his palm as he tried to stop the swing.
You were currently using some first aid spray on the wound before wrapping it on a piece of cloth you'd cut off from the many curtains around the Castle. Leon, as always, insisted he was fine and you needn't fret over him, but you were truly fucked if he couldn't hold his guns correctly.
You shut him down and began lecturing him on how stupid it was. And he listened, like he always did, staring at you with a smile on his face. He glanced past you, eyes falling on the gate that had separated Ashley from the both of you, and his smile was replaced with a small frown.
Ashley looked so terrified, and it broke your heart. She didn't deserve any of this, being ripped from her life and then having to fight for it all the same. You had to find her before Ramon did.
"Can you fit that under your glove?" You asked softly, tying a tight knot on the makeshift bandage around Leon's hand.
"Uh, yeah. Should work." Leon mumbled, squeezing his hand in a fist multiple times to test the flexibility of the wrap before putting his glove back on.
"Alright," he groaned as he got up from the edge of the stoke fountain he'd been sitting on,
"Let's get our Baby Eagle back." He held out his good hand to you, which you took, and he pulled you off the ground.
"Are you sure your hand's okay?" You questioned with a crease of concern between your brows when you saw him wince as he grabbed his gun. He only smiled at you softly and gently brushed his calloused thumb over your cheekbone.
"I'm okay. I promise."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The courtyard was really quite beautiful. The high and dense walls of green gave it a somewhat mysterious and mystical feel. There were plenty of old and mossy stone statues littered around the place, with a few fountains here and there. If it hadn't been under these circumstances, you might've called your stay here enjoyable.
It didn't matter now as you slipped from the literal maze that was the courtyard, into an open stone hallway right by its side. The gate was locked, so your only chance at finding Baby Eagle was to go around, which meant through the dark walls of the Castle. You weren't thrilled, but it was your only option.
There were two doors in the hallway; one to your right, and one straight ahead, at the end of the corridor.
"You go right, I'll take the one straight." Leon said, motioning to the wooden door in front of him.
"Okay." You nodded, checking the mag of your gun. There was no telling what else would hide in the Castle. Leon reached out to the door handle, but you interrupted him, making him stop in his tracks.
"Leon?"
"Yeah?"
"Be careful. I saw some snakes around here."
He gave you a firm nod and proceeded, as did you, carefully entering the room.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Leon slowly pushed the door open, having his gun at the ready if anything decided to jump him. When he couldn't detect any immediate threats, he stepped inside fully and looked around.
The room was lit up in a warm hue from the various candles burning, their wax dripping down the metal candle holders.
There were many wooden cabinets pushed against the walls, filled with all sorts of shiny junk. An open window at the back if the room caught his eye, and he carefully moved closer as the hinges creaked.
"You can stop right there, Leon." A voice called from behind him, accompanied by the cocking of a gun and the clacking sound of high heels against the old wooden floors.
"Wouldn't make me use this, would you?" He'd know that voice anywhere. It haunted his dreams, whispering sweet lies and betrayals in his ear, only to fade away when it's owner fell to their death.
He clenched his jaw and chuckled bitterly, letting his gun fall to the floor with a thud.
"Well, after six years, that is one hell of a greeting... Ada."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The room was uneventful. It was mostly bare, only a big table in the middle filling the space, littered with scrap pieces of paper and metal parts.
There were no windows, only a couple of candles to light your path. You searched around nonetheless, and found a small pot with a green herb hidden in the corner.
You hummed at your find and plucked the stems, storing them in your pockets so you could grind up the leaves later and combine them with a rare yellow herb Leon had found in the courtyard.
You rummaged through the papers on the table, just in case, but were pulled from your task when you picked up muffled voices coming from Leon's direction. Alarm bells went off in your head, alongside utter confusion.
Who could he be talking to? You doubted the.. lovely.. gentlemen who had welcomed you had a knack for talking. It wasn't Ramón. It didn't sound nearly as pitchy and annoying for it to be him. There was no way it was Ashley..
what was going on? With furrowed brows and immense caution, you quickly walked down the stone hallway to the room Leon had chosen to investigate, finding its door ajar.
Your heart stopped when you heard what sounded like a gun hitting the floor. Next, there were sounds of struggle and soft grunts, same with a noise like a blade slicing through the air.
It felt like your feet were rooted in the ground, refusing to move. You had to pull yourself together. Leon was in potential danger.
You kicked open the door so hard that it smashed into the sturdy stone walls with a loud thud. When your eyes landed on the sight before you, your hands fell limp at your sides, your mouth slightly agape.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Leon had his knife pressed against Ada's throat and she slightly shifted her head to look over her shoulder, straight at you. She made an amused sound before turning back to face Leon.
"You brought your little friend, too, I see." She said with a smirk. Her voice was so smooth, too smooth. All you wanted to do was put a scratch in it. Leon stared at you, and you stared at him, with the occasional glance to the woman who ruined your life.
You stepped further into the room, keeping your eyes on her while letting the heavy door fall into its lock.
The second you finally met her eye, every single emotion you felt that night, and all the six years after, came bubbling up all at once, almost choking you. Your eyes were burning, your jaw was clenched and your breathing became irregular. You circled around her until you stood right next to Leon.
"Why the fuck are you not dead?" The bite and disbelief in your voice was evident, you balled your hands into fists to keep the fury and sadness at bay.
"Ooooh, Ouch." Ada feigned hurt and smirked back at you. God, how badly you wanted to slap that stupid smirk off her face.
You took a breather, trying to sort the words in your head. You didn't know what you wanted to say first. Everything wanted to come out at once. All the pain, and the anger and the fear. All the deep hatred you held in your heart for her. You looked up at the ceiling and shook your head with a small scoff.
"I can't believe this... for six goddamn years I've been trying to move on and get over what happened, get over what you did. And just as I was starting to get a grip, you show up. Why? You couldn't just do your shitty job without bothering us? You just can't go quietly, can you, Ada?"
"What, you're still not over that?" She shifted on her feet and almost rolled her eyes. There was no remorse in her voice, no regret, nothing. Just annoyance for your inability to be over it.
"You're awfully confident for someone with a knife at her throat." Leon said harshly, earning him a glare from Ada.
"You... are you serious? You used me! You used Leon, preyed on our fear only to... to fuck everything up! Do you even have an ounce of an idea of what you did?" Your throat started closing up as the emotions ran amok in your chest, leaving you with a shaky voice and a burning in eyes.
"We were fighting for our lives, thinking we were the only survivors and then you came along with your fucking FBI badge and gave us hope. Do you even know how-" she cut you off with an amused scoff that turned into a scowl.
"Oh, please. I didn't give you hope. You gave yourself hope." Your face dropped slightly, which only lasted a second before an expression of unimaginable rage took over your features.
"You fucking-" Leon stopped you from surging at her with a firm hand on your shoulder, sheathing his knife, "he took a bullet for you! I twisted and contorted three times over for you because we thought you wanted to help! We- We had faith in you, and we trusted you." You had to hold back a sob as you recalled the painful memories of betrayal that still sat deep in the marrow of your bones.
The first few tears sprung from your lashline, leaving streaks of salt on your cheeks. You were so, so incredibly angry and hurt. Your nostrils flared as you exhaled sharply, cleching your fists.
"But now I see that I should've shot you between the eyes first chance I got." You said lowly, staring daggers at Ada.
"A feisty one, huh?" She smirked bitterly, "Keep your bitch under control, Leon."
"Say that again, Ada, and I swear to god-" Leon hissed as he pushed past you, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate her. She laughed, she fucking laughed, and tilted her head at him.
"What are you gonna do? You're too soft for your own good." She spat, the venom in her tone could burn through your flesh like acid. Something inside you snapped.
The thin, tethered line of patience that you'd been holding on ever since you stepped foot inside this room crumbled under the weight of your emotions.
You quickly pulled Leon's combat knife from its sheath and pressed it against Ada's neck, successfully backing her up into a corner until she hit the stone wall with a grunt.
"I would choose my next words very carefully. I'm not above slitting your throat and watching all the lies spill out." You warned lowly, your eyes darkening. You saw a flash of something in her eyes. You couldn't decipher it. She was impossible to read. Everything about her was fake.
She could get on her knees and beg for your forgiveness and you'd believe her. That's how dangerous she was, how unpredictable.
"That was you in the village, wasn't it? The red I saw flashing on the rooftops? The weird sound I heard? That was all fucking you, wasn't it?" You seethed, pressing the blade to her neck, almost slicing through the knit fabric of her dress.
"You are a pest of a human being, Ada." You continued angrily, letting everything spill out.
"We were willing to die for the cause, for you, just so you and that stupid sample could get out and prevent this from ever happening again. The fact that that means nothing to you shows how truly rotten you are. You're not a good person, Ada, and you never will be." You noticed a shift in her demeanor when you harshly spat the last sentence.
The corner of your mouth twitched upwards. You'd hit her where it hurt, apparently. A gentle hand on your shoulder made the harsh crease between your eyebrows soften.
"Loony, we have to get Ashley. We can't let Ramón get her." Leon said quietly, trying to tug you away from Ada by your arm.
With a sharp jerk of your shoulder, you shook him off of you, nicking her jaw with the edge of the knife in the process. Ada breathed heavily as she tried to keep the knife away from her neck. She looked past you, directly at Leon.
"Leave the girl. She's lost no matter what."
At the mention of Ashley and without thinking, you struck her across the face. She gasped in surprise, both at the impact and that you had the guts to slap her.
"You don't fucking get to decide who's lost!" You bellowed, trying to keep your hands steady with all the rage that was coursing through your veins.
"You better thank whatever God you believe in, because that's the only one standing between your neck and my knife." You threatened with a harsh stare that made Ada swallow.
"Loony-"
"If I catch you near Ashley you're dead meat, Wong." You said lowly before stepping away from her and pressing the knife back in Leon's hand.
With a last angry look you walked towards the door. You pulled it open, the hinges groaning under its weight. You looked back over your shoulder.
"Just know this... no amount of good deeds will ever undo what you've done. You're the one that's lost. Not Ashley."
You didn't wait for a reaction, or for Leon, you just needed to get away from her.
You headed towards the courtyard again and sat down near a fountain, watching the small stream of water drip from the stone vase.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
It was over. This absolute nightmare of a mission was over. You were exhausted and covered in... well, maybe you didn't want to know. You'd removed your Las Plagas parasite, and Saddler met his demise at the hands of Leon.
You could get Ashley back home and then barricade yourself in your shared apartment with Leon, waiting for the next shitty mission to come along.
It was an endless cycle of exhaustion and pain, but you were lying if you said it wasn't addictive.
You fell to your knees with heavy breaths, letting everything fall off your shoulders. You were so relieved you could cry. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tensing up, your back had been crushed into too many walls, and you'd been thrown against a barrel.
Holding your side in pain, you lifted your head up only to see Leon on the ground, reaching out for the amber. Your body sagged, the adrenaline fading away by the minute.
However, your head shot up when you heard what sounded like a metal clang of shoes. Ada came down from the sky, tucking her grapling gun back into its holster.
"Jesus christ- do you ever fucking go away?!" You yelled, more to yourself than her. She bent down and plucked the amber right from under Leon's nose. You heaved yourself up with a groan and grabbed one of the small knives you'd found along the way.
You aimed and threw it at her, you didn't care where it hit her, if it hit her at all, but if she didn't get the hint that you wanted her to fuck off now, all hope was lost.
The blade embedded itself in her thigh, making her cry out in pain and, in turn, dropping the amber.
You used all your remaining strength and threw yourself at the small glass container, grasping it tightly. Ada's eyes widened, still holding onto her injured thigh.
"W-What.. what are you doing?" She demanded through hisses and groans. Dragging yourself up with the support of one of the metal rails, you held up the amber in the light.
"Fuck you.. Fuck this stupid little stone.. Fuck whoever you're working for. I am done." You panted, throwing the amber as far as you could, watching as it disappeared into the deep, dark ocean.
"No!" Ada screamed, reaching out for the stone, "do you have any idea what you just did!?"
"I don't give a shit."
You limped over to her and bent down, meeting her at eye level. Pulling the knife from her thigh, you couldn't help but chuckle.
"This feels a little... familiar, wouldn't you say, Ada?"
You thought back to when a piece of metal had lodged itself into her leg back in the Umbrella lab. You'd found her by coincidence, lying on a pile of debris and rubble. If it hadn't been for you and Leon, she would've died in that hellhole. Not that you ever received a thank you.
"Go to hell." She spat in your face, holding her bleeding thigh.
"I'm already in hell." You mumbled bitterly, sinking down next to Leon, who had an expression on his face that you could only describe as awe. With a scowl on her face, she heaved herself up and limped towards the helicopter that had flown up.
Ada managed to get into the heli, with a little trouble, and smirked back at you.
"I'd offer you a ride, but... I think I'd rather watch you be blown to bits and pieces."
"If I ever see you again, I'll be your worst nightmare." You snapped at her, praying she'd just fuck off already.
She scoffed with a frown and signaled the pilot to take off.
"Have fun being mince meat."
You sighed and slacked against Leon once she was gone. Your head fell against his shoulder and you closed your eyes.
"We need to get out of here, the whole Island's gonna blow." Leon sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"I know, just..." Your voice was shaky, trying to suppress the tears that would ultimately spill. You took a deep breath, blinking away the salty water droplets. You needed to be strong. You needed to get Ashley out of here.
You had plenty of time to break down when you were back at home. Leon noticed your fight to keep the tears away and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly while pressing a kiss to your temple.
"You're okay. Ashley's okay. I'm okay." He cooed, gently rocking you.
"I love you. And I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, but we can only do that if we find a ride out of here. Now." Leon said as softly as he could. He wanted to comfort you, hold you, and kiss you, but the situation was urgent.
"You know I'm always prepared." You sniffled with a small grin, holding up a pair of keys for Leon to see.
"Where the hell did you get these?" Leon asked bewildered. You got off the ground with a groan and grinned.
"She's got some pretty shitty pockets." Leon followed suit with getting up with an amused smirk playing in his lips.
"You clever little thing."
You winked and tossed him the keys. He chuckled once he caught them and noticed the little bear Keychain that was attached to the keyring.
"Cute."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You were sitting on your couch, knees tucked under your body as you watched the TV. Your gaze was unfocused, and in reality, you weren't watching the TV at all.
You were thinking about everything that happened. About all the emotions that you didn't get out, all the things you hadn't managed to say.
You were inside your head all the time. Not being able to focus on anything without slipping away into that September night or those rainy days in Spain.
Leon noticed. Of course he did. And it broke his heart to see you like this, all dull and void of joy. But he knew that this would pass. He wouldn't allow you to get lost.
Which is why he held you that little bit tighter and whispered how much he loved you just that little bit more often.
You didn't notice Leon coming into the living room, jumping slightly when he slid down next to you on the couch and slung his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side.
"Look what came in the mail." He said softly, pressing a small decorative card into your hand. You looked him with furrowed brows but he gave you an encouraging nod and pressed a kiss to your temple.
There was a big, red 18 on the front, surrounded by small hearts. You turned the card over and began reading the inscription. Your eyes got brighter with every line you read, and a smile tugged on your lips.
"How sweet of her. Sherry invited us to her 18th birthday party." You smiled softly, looking at Leon. He hummed and pulled tighter against him.
"She called earlier when you were taking a nap. She's really excited to see you again, you know." He replied softly. You chuckled.
"Yeah, me too. It's been forever. God, I can't believe she's turning 18 already." You sighed.
"Time flies, huh?" Leon grinned.
"It sure does." You giggled, snuggling closer to Leon.
"Hey, is Claire still planning to take Sherry for her first ride on her bike for her birthday?" You asked.
"Hell yeah, she is. She's got her Harley all polished up for the big day." He smirked. You laughed and let your head fall back against Leon's shoulder. He pulled you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest, and started littering soft kisses down the side of your face.
"Lee! What are you doing!" You giggled, trying to get away from his wet kisses. He held you tightly, not letting you escape his grasp.
"Jus' wanna see you smile, baby." He mumbled against your skin. With a mischievous smile, you let yourself fall onto the length of the sofa, dragging Leon on top of you.
You placed a sweet kiss on his lips, brushing some of his blonde locks out of his face.
"I love you."
"I love you too, sweetheart." Leon whispered, looking at you with a smile, blushed cheeks and slightly red lips.
Maybe the color red wasn't so bad, after all.
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gabessquishytum · 4 months
Note
Hob wakes up (in a hotel room not his own) with the following, in no particular order (but take a guess at which registered highest on the list):
1. A massive headache;
2. In bed with an empty bottle of high end whiskey;
3. A mouth that tastes like that whiskey & someone else's privates (yes, he can tell. don't ask!);
4. *sigh* what is most likely a pubic hair stuck to his tongue (it's making his dry throat itch);
5. A body that feels like he enjoyed himself last night; and
6. A heavy, fucking, jewel-encrusted ring on his ring finger. That he's almost taken his eye out with, twice already.
There's a short lacy black dress, and heels, crumpled on the ground near the bed that looks a little ripped and (what Hob fears is) a very official looking marriage license on the nightstand. What he does not appear to have is his new spouse.
Then his phone starts to ring (at least he didn't lose that) and the hotel room door begins to open --- letting into the room the most gorgeous darked haired pale skinned beauty (and not just because it looks like he has coffee), who seemed to be wearing Hob's clothes (absolutely swallowed by Hob's shirt) and sporting a fetching blush as he notices Hob's wakeful state. Oh!
Hob picking up his phone while staring.
Hob: Yes. distractedly
Joanna: Where are you? You're not in your room and if we don't hustle you're going to be late for your interview/sound check/run through.
Hob: Yeah, about that. You need to reschedule.
Joanna: What?!? Hob we've been working towards this for....*wah, wah, white noise*
Hob: Yep. Great. Thanks for handling it. *hangs up in [rude ~Joanna will have his balls for this] hot new husband facination.*
Also Hob (with besotted hand out): Hi Beautiful.
Oh, they're such himbos. I absolutely adore them.
Dream is so nervous as he comes into the room!! His new husband (Robert, according to the paperwork) looks about as starstruck and confused as Dream feels. He remembers so little of the night before. Only that he'd found out via family groupchat about Desire getting married (again), and commiserated (Dream wants, with all his heart, to be married) with a strange man at the bar. A strange man who is now his husband. Who apparently also thinks that Dream is beautiful.
Dream holds out his hand, and Robert kisses it. He must be blushing. "I'm Dream." He says. "I think we may be a little late to get an annulment." He eyes the distinctly used condoms on the floor.
"Is it bad that I'm absolutely thrilled that you can't immediately leave me?" Robert says. He's very handsome, in Dream’s opinion. All stubble and laughter lines. Dream knows that he's blushing, pulling the sleeves of Robert's shirt over his hands.
"I would be grateful not follow up the news of my wedding to my family with an immediate divorce." He admits. "And I liked you well enough last night. Apparently. I'm sure we could spend a day together."
And that's how Dream learns that he is: a) married to up and coming rockstar Hob Gadling and b) attends his first ever gig in Vegas with a backstage pass. Hob delightedly introduces Dream to everyone as "my husband". Jo nearly quits her job, the fans go wild... and Dream decides to enjoy his honeymoon. With Hob. In the greenroom. On his knees, mostly. Except for the 30 minutes he spends bouncing in Hob’s lap.
No one is really surprised when the marriage is a complete and utter... success. Hob has given himself a black eye with his wedding ring, but he's never taking it off.
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