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#if he touches them again they come back to life
valeskafics · 2 days
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"Matter Of State" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
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a/n: combined two anon requests - one for atreides!reader dreaming of feyd and offering her hand to spare paul and one for free use with atreides!reader hehehehe 🩷
Summary: You meet the man of your dreams under less than ideal circumstances.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, feyd rautha's black cum oop, inkpie, breeding kink, cousin incest, oral f receiving, overstim, p in v sex, paul gets stabbed RIP but he lives!
Word Count: 2,500
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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All your life you’ve dreamed of him. You can’t remember a time when you didn’t know him, in whatever strange way this is. It always starts the same way. He stands in the desert, one arm extended toward you, his hand reaching out for you to take it. He pulls you into his embrace, staring down at you with those intense, dark eyes. His hands are rough as they caress your face, and yet? He’s tender. It’s as if he’s afraid you’ll break if he doesn’t handle you with enough care. You don’t know his name. You only know his voice. Every time you wake, the memory of his face fades from your mind, until you fall asleep once more.
The dreams only grow more intense during your time in the desert with the Fremen. Paul had similar dreams of Chani. The two of you confided in each other about these dreams growing up - it would seem that the Atreides twins had more in common than many realized. But while Paul now has Chani in his life, your mystery lover remains just out of reach. His voice is a low rasp as he murmurs how beautiful you are, as he makes love to you in your dreams, as he promises to keep you by his side forever and make you his queen.
Perhaps your dreams aren’t like Paul’s at all. Perhaps they truly are just that. Dreams. Maybe you saw this mystery man passing in the crowd back home on Caladan and your mind ran away with itself. But your mother, wise woman that she is, always smiles at you sagely and tells you that all will be revealed when the time is right. Ever since transmuting that damn poison and being able to chatter away with your unborn sister, the woman has become insufferable.
When you, Paul, and the others storm the castle at Arrakeen, intent on avenging your father’s death, you feel the world around you come to a standstill. As Paul buries his blade in the Baron - your grandfather’s neck, your gaze meets his. The man of your dreams. You recognize him at once, your lips parting in a silent gasp as he stares back at you. It’s as though a dam breaks in your mind and every memory of every dream comes flooding back to you. Every kiss, every touch, every sweet word.
You know who he is immediately. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. The nephew of the Baron. Your cousin. He is the man you have been dreaming of all this time, the man whose fate yours is entwined with. As Paul stalks over to the Emperor, Feyd makes his way to you, too close for comfort as he leans in to whisper in your ear, taking advantage of your brother’s distraction.
“We meet again.”
His voice is exactly as you remember it, that low, seductive rasp. You open your mouth to speak, but Paul notices that who he perceives to be the enemy has cornered you and is seemingly harassing you. Your brother grabs you by the hand and keeps you at his side, demanding that the Emperor bow to him. You continue staring at Feyd, unable to tear your eyes away from him. And he seems just as keen on ignoring the politics currently at play, finding his way to stand beside you yet again.
“Did you…” You trail off, your voice echoing in Feyd’s mind as you communicate without words, taking advantage of the skills having a Bene Gesserit for a mother has afforded you, “Have the dreams too?”
His lips curl up into a smile as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear as he whispers, “Yes.”
The tension between the two of you is palpable, even as he readies himself for battle with your brother. Your attention is only on him, unable to stop thinking of the dreams you have shared with this man, this enemy of your house. His eyes lock onto yours as he makes his way to the circle, his shoulder brushing against you as he moves.
Your brother and Feyd-Rautha are evenly matched. Skill, speed, strength. It is a battle for the ages. You glance over at Chani, who seems just as nervous as you are, your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in the skin of your palm. Your heart pounds in your chest, so hard that you fear it may burst out of your body, watching with anxiety as your beloved brother fights the man who has haunted you for so long. Feyd is every bit a specter as he moves, his motions quick and graceful, his form long and lean. You gasp in horror as he manages to bury his blade in Paul’s shoulder.
Just as he is about to strike the killing blow, you speak, just loud enough for him to hear, “Stop.”
Feyd heeds your command, though he has little choice to do so, dropping Paul to the ground along with his knives and taking a step back, meeting your gaze, his head tilted to the side as if to ask why you have deprived him of the glory of his kill. You look between your brother, who lays bleeding and wounded on the floor, though thanks to you it is not mortal, and Feyd, who stands there staring at you. You turn to the Emperor, taking a deep breath, doing your best to hide the tremble in your voice.
“If… If I offer myself to Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… A willing bride in exchange for my brother’s life, will my lords accept?”
The Emperor looks surprised, as does your brother, but neither of them even has a chance to speak. Feyd is already stalking toward you, using the blunt edge of his blade to force you to look him in the eyes. He seems… Intrigued by the proposition.
“That was bold, little one,” he murmurs, staring down at you, “But how do you know I will spare him if I agree to your terms?”
He begins to circle you, as if appraising you, grinning to himself when you speak, “You may be cruel. But you are a man of honor. I know that if you give me your word, you will keep it.”
It surprises him, really, how well you know him despite only having met in your dreams. He lets out a hum of approval before nodding at the Emperor, indicating that he accepts your offer. The Emperor heaves a sigh and announces that the wedding is to take place in ten day’s time, that as Duke Leto’s heir, your brother will retain control of Arrakis while you and Feyd will take control of Giedi Prime.
The room begins to empty out, your brother being taken away to have his injuries cared for, Chani ever present at his side, your mother giving you a quick nod as she walks past. You absently wonder to yourself what Alia has had to say about the whole thing. Part of you doubts that she actually speaks to your mother, but you digress. Soon, it is only you and Feyd left, standing in front of each other. There is nowhere to hide from him, from his hungry gaze. All he can think is that soon, you will belong to him. When you glance at him, he is already staring, and you quickly look away. He chuckles to himself at your nervousness.
“Do you remember them?” You blurt out suddenly, “The dreams?”
He nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he speaks, “I do. Every single one is burned in my memory.”
“Me too,” you admit quietly.
The silence lingers for a moment before Feyd moves to stand in front of you, resting his finger under your chin, “Do you remember what we did in those dreams? The things I made you feel?”
“I,” you take a step back, stuttering slightly, “I’m not sure if it’s really appropriate for us to talk about that.”
Unwilling to let you get away so easily, he takes another step toward you, and another, until you are backed up against the wall, his forearm resting above your head, effectively caging you in. And yet? You don’t feel scared. You simply feel a warmth rising to your cheeks, a fluttering in your stomach as you meet his gaze once more.
“Why not? We did quite a bit in those dreams, didn’t we?” Feyd teases, moving his blade to stroke your hair, his breath warm against your face, “I remember everything. How your lips felt against mine. The way your body moved against mine. The way you tasted. It’s haunted me, tormented me for years now. And here you are, in front of me.” He moves his free hand to rest against your cheek, making your breath catch in your throat as he caresses your skin, fingers trailing down to your throat, “Just as soft as I remember.”
“Feyd…” You trail off, “I…”
Before you can finish speaking, his lips capture yours in an intense, passionate kiss, one that leaves those you’ve shared in your dreams so far behind. He’s hungry, wanting, desperate as he crushes you against him, his lips moving to your neck, biting down on your skin, his tongue soothing the tender, abused flesh moments later. Your arms wrap around him, losing yourself in his embrace, in his touch. And you wonder to yourself how in the world the Emperor expects the two of you to keep your hands off each other in the days leading up to your wedding.
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The wedding comes and passes with great pomp and ceremony. You and Feyd drink of each other’s blood and, as is the Harkonnen tradition, he hunts you down within the walls of Arrakeen. You find yourself wanting him to find you sooner than later, however, and make little effort to run from him, the two of you grinning at each other when he catches you, taking you then and there on the floor of the palace, vowing to fill you with his seed, vowing that it is not your brother who is the Chosen One, but the child you will bear him, as was always intended. Whether you agree or not doesn’t matter, because all you can think of is the pleasure he’s busy bestowing upon you as he fucks you over and over and over again.
Married life with Feyd is more than you ever could have hoped for. Your days on Giedi Prime are spent getting lost in each other. And this newlywed bliss is supported by all on your new home planet. After all, the more you couple with Feyd, the sooner the Kwisatz Haderach will be brought forth. He has no qualms walking into your meetings with the nobility of Giedi Prime and demanding everyone leave so that he can take you then and there. And you’re all the happier for it. Feyd can and will have you whenever and wherever he pleases. He is the Baron now, he holds all power over the planet. And you, his Baroness? His desire for you, his love for you renders him powerless only before you. You consume him - his thoughts, his desires, his very being.
When your mother and brother come to visit for the first time, accompanied by Chani and your newborn sister, Alia, you wonder if Feyd’s desires will continue to be so ravenous. His lust for you must be somewhat sated by this point - it’s been three months of this, after all. However, you have no such luck. In the middle of having tea with your mother and Chani, Paul off doing whatever it is that Paul does, Feyd barges into the room.
“Lady Jessica. Chani. I apologize but,” his eyes focus on you, “I require the Baroness for urgent matters of state.”
You furrow your brow, “Did something happen?”
Wordlessly, he walks toward you, heaving you over his shoulder, and stalks out of the room, making you yelp with surprise, quickly blurting out some excuse to your mother and Chani. Chani looks mildly horrified by the whole situation while your mother? Well, she seems rather pleased. After all, if Paul isn’t the Kwisatz Haderach, it will most certainly be your and Feyd’s child.
Feyd rather unceremoniously tosses you on the bed, crawling over you as he removes his clothes, smirking to himself as you protest, “You can’t just grab me like that! What the hell will my mother think of me, Feyd? That was embarrassing!”
Despite your words, he can feel the way your body reacts to him, the way he knows it better than you do, every brush of his fingertips against your sensitive skin making you shiver with desire. Feyd pushes your skirt aside, his lips immediately latching onto your core, already wet for him. He knew it. You wanted this just as bad as he did. You prop yourself up on your elbows, his gaze locked on yours, his lashes fluttering as he moans and mouths at your sensitive cunt, groaning at the taste of you, as if you’re the finest ambrosia and he grows drunk with every movement of his tongue. And when he’s made you peak, he shows no signs of stopping. Feyd’s mouth is sloppy against you, eager to taste you, devouring you completely.
“Feyd, no more,” you whine after he’s brought you to the edge for the third time, his hands grabbing at your thighs eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you again, “It’s too much…”
“Need more,” he rasps, burying his tongue inside you again, his head moving from side to side, fucking you deeper with his tongue than before, moaning against you, the sensation making your head fall back against your pillow as you let him continue.
Finally, Feyd decides that his cock is too hard for him to resist any longer and with one fluid movement, he pushes inside you, feeling you squeeze around him impossibly tight. Even with how many times you’ve taken him, every time feels like the first, he muses as he pounds into you, his hips pistoning at a near inhuman pace, your arms wrapped around him.
“Are you going to breed me again, my Baron?” You ask breathily, your eyes locked on his, “It’s your duty after all.”
He nods eagerly, his voice a low growl in his chest as he declares, “I am. Over and over and over. I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that it drips out of that pretty little cunt, stuff you full. My pretty little wife.”
And true to his word, he fills you yet again, holding you close to him as you come down from your respective highs.
And when you walk back into the room where you left your family, your mother merely gives you a knowing smirk when you state that you were busy dealing with state matters, while Chani pointedly eyes the black stain on your dress.
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girlgenius1111 · 19 hours
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contact
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r has never been one for physical contact. she doesn't realize what she's missing until she does. barça x touch starved reader
-------
Your teammates had figured it out pretty early on. You didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t something you really liked to acknowledge. It was obvious, though, in the way you tensed up whenever anyone went to hug you, or the way you sidestepped the bulk of the celebrations on the pitch. You didn’t like physical contact, and that was fine. Your teammates could respect it, even if it wasn’t what they were used to at all. The majority of them were Spanish, after all. 
It never occurred to anyone that perhaps you didn’t dislike physical contact, you just weren’t used to it. At all. You’d grown up in an incredibly not affectionate household. Your parents didn’t hug you, and you never learned anything different from that. It was hardly your only issue with them, and it didn’t even occur to you to consider it an issue. 
You’d felt like this your whole life. You thought everyone did. You thought everyone felt this empty space inside of them, longing for something you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored the way that the infrequent pats on the back and high fives seemed to frustrate this part of you more. You decided it was a negative reaction to touch, rather than one that begged for more. 
Like everyone, though, you had a breaking point. And you’d been approaching it for a long time. 
------
It wasn’t enough that you’d had an international break from hell, losing both matches despite you running yourself into the ground for a win. 
It wasn’t enough that you had to see your parents over the break. It wasn’t enough that they were uncaring and dismissive of everything you said, that they treated seeing you like an obligation rather than something they were excited about. 
It had been a long couple weeks, to say the least. And yet, everything you’d dealt with apparently wasn’t enough. 
As the defender plowed into you again, you wondered what you’d done to deserve this. No one had left you alone today. You’d been violently tackled, shoved, pulled, and stepped on more times than you could count today and you were at your limit. Everyone could see it, too, in the way you robotically got to your feet, blinking hard, trying to brush off this blow too. 
You missed Jona’s eyes on you, and the looks he exchanged with his coaching staff. You were supposed to play the full 90, and it was only the 70th minute. It was clear, though, that you couldn’t take any more battering, not that you’d ever admit that. 
When you heard the whistle signaling the subs were allowed to come on, you looked over, a bit surprised to see your number on the screen. You should have been relieved, probably, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. You jogged off, accepting the high fives Mariona offered you, though you ignored the way the contact almost brought you to tears right there. 
You walked over to Jona, as he’d called you over, even though you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the locker room and have a few minutes to yourself. 
“Are you okay?” He asked kindly. “Do you need to get checked out?” 
“No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.” You dismissed. 
Jona sent you a sympathetic smile. “You can head back in if you want. Let someone know if you need ice.” 
With that, you turned towards the locker room and headed inside. The next hour was something of a blur. You showered and got dressed, before heading out to the bus. You were quick enough that you didn’t have to interact with any of your teammates, and theoretically, you could have let yourself have a few moments. Something inside of you wouldn’t allow that, though. You were forcing yourself not to cry on instinct, but the more you sat by yourself, the worse you felt. About yourself, about how you’d been playing. Everything. It was overwhelming, and the minutes sped by until it could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t really care how long it had been. You just wanted to go home, so you could feel what you needed to feel, all by yourself, like you were supposed to. 
-------
You were too wrapped up in your thoughts, and trying not to cry, to notice that your teammates had started to file onto the bus. Esmee headed for you, both of you preferring to sit in silence on the way back from matches, while some of your teammates preferred to be a bit louder. As she got closer, though, she noticed the way you were sitting, all curled into yourself, practically a ball in your seat, and the way your entire body seemed tense. You were good friends, you and Esmee, but the girl felt wholly unequipped to deal with how upset you seemed. Thinking for a minute, she decided someone else would be able to deal with this better, so she turned around, ignoring the odd looks she got from everyone she’d passed on her way back to you. 
Esmee was still rather shy with the older girls, although they’d been nothing but nice to her. Even though she felt a little awkward, she walked right over to where Alexia was sitting, chatting quietly with Patri. 
“Alexia?” She said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the question but not really sure that she had any other choice. 
The captain turned to her, though, always a bit amused by how nervous she made Esmee, but always careful to not make her feel bad about it. “Hola Esmee.” Alexia greeted with a smile. 
“Hola,” Esmee replied. She looked back at you anxiously, and followed her gaze, sitting up a bit in the seat to look back at you, too. “Um… something isn’t right with her. She seems really upset. I didn’t really know…” 
Alexia’s brows furrowed, mentally cursing herself for not thinking to check on you before now. The team had noticed how tense and off you’d seemed after the international break, but they thought you’d relax after a game back with the team. Clearly not. 
“Thank you, Esmee, I’ll check on her, vale?” 
Esmee nodded gratefully, stepping aside to let Alexia out of her seat, taking an empty one across the aisle. She appreciated that Patri gave her a quiet compliment on the game she’d had, before pulling out her phone, and allowing Esmee the silence that the Spaniard knew she always sought after a match. 
-------
You were still completely oblivious, starting to get a little worried that you were going to cry right there on that bus, as opposed to once you’d arrived home, like you wanted. Crying in front of your teammates was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it when Alexia slid into the seat next to you. 
“Pequeña? What’s going on?” Alexia asked softly, noticing the way you refused to meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands fidgeting in your lap. 
You shrugged, for a minute unable to speak in fear that a sob would escape instead of words. “Long day.” You managed eventually. 
Alexia nodded slowly. “Long couple weeks, no?” 
“Yeah.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice cracked rather pathetically. 
“Can I do anything?” Alexia asked almost helplessly. You looked so upset, so fragile, and she wasn’t sure how to help without touching you. She knew she always liked a hug after a rough day, but you were so different, and normally shied away from contact like that. 
“I don’t know.” You said, wiping roughly at your face as a few tears escaped, the kindness from your captain not helping you keep it together. You wanted her to be able to help, but you weren’t confident she’d be able to. 
“Do you want some space?” Alexia asked, even if the idea of leaving you alone like this made her want to cry herself. 
You were used to dealing with your emotions yourself, but somehow, at the moment, you weren’t really embarrassed that Alexia was seeing you like this. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want her to go. “No, please stay.” 
“Nena… can I give you a hug?” Alexia asked after a minute, in a way that made it clear she wouldn’t be upset no matter how you responded. 
What did you have to lose at this point? You were pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse. So, for once, you did the opposite of what you thought you should do, and nodded hesitantly. 
It was instinctual for Alexia, and surprisingly for you, too. You were tense for just a second when she wrapped her arms around you, gently pulling you in closer to her. After a second, though, your body seemed to move of its own accord, completely melting into the arms of your captain. 
You were crying before you could stop yourself, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t bad crying, per say. It was cathartic. You thought briefly that this was the safest and most comforted you’d ever felt. Still, you tried to keep the volume down, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that you were sobbing into your captain’s sweatshirt. 
“It’s okay, nena, just let it out.” Alexia whispered, her chin resting on top of your head. She rubbed your back softly, hating the way you trembled against her. She’d never seen you this upset before, but the way you leaned into her told her that this had been coming for a while. It also told her that even though you acted like you hated being touched, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure why you didn’t allow it to happen, but it was clear you had needed it. “You are safe, nena. You are okay.” 
Her words felt like a soft blanket being wrapped around your shivering body, and you felt that empty space inside yourself feel full for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 
It made her heart hurt that she hadn’t thought to check on you, really check on you these past couple weeks. She had assumed that because you never talked about how you were feeling, you didn’t need to. She’d never considered that you did want to, and need to, but you were too afraid to do so. She made herself a promise to keep a closer eye on you. And to give you more hugs. 
Even when you’d stopped crying, and the bus had begun to move, Alexia didn’t let go. She kept you firmly in her arms, your head resting on her chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, either, even though you knew you should. 
You couldn’t help but feel sad when the bus pulled into the Barça parking lot. You’d acted completely ridiculously, and something like this could never happen again. You weren’t a child, you were an adult. The thought of removing yourself from your captain’s arms, though, felt physically painful, and you almost wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. Because now you knew what you were missing, and it would be near impossible to not let yourself seek it out again in the future. 
------
You showed up to the recovery session the next day on a mission. You were going to apologize to Alexia for what had happened yesterday, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. You weren’t going to cry and you were not going to act any differently than normal. You couldn’t let anyone see you as this pathetic person who was barely hanging on. You were strong and capable and independent. You were an adult, and emotions were to be felt by yourself. Hugs were for children, you reminded yourself, and you hadn’t needed one of those in a while. Or maybe, you just hadn’t gotten one in a while. Regardless,  by the end of today, you were dead set on making sure everyone who saw you so upset yesterday would know that it was a one time occurrence. 
Alexia had other plans. You really should have given up immediately upon seeing the determination on her face when she pulled you aside right before the film review session, but you were stubborn if nothing else, and you tried to remain as cool and calm as you could. 
Even when she led you to one of the lounge areas, and took a seat on the couch next to you. Even when she squeezed your shoulder supportively, and all you wanted to do was launch yourself across the couch at her, and curl up against her like you had yesterday. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. 
“I wanted to check on you after yesterday,” Alexia said gently, as if she knew you wanted to avoid this conversation. It didn’t matter that your captain hadn’t seemed to mind yesterday, your behavior still wasn’t okay, not at all. 
“I’m sorry for how I acted. It won’t happen again.” You said stiffly, ignoring the sympathetic expression on Alexia’s face. It made her so sad that you felt you had to apologize for showing emotion. 
“You do not need to be sorry.” Alexia said definitively. “You were upset, it is okay to be upset, pequeña.” 
“I shouldn’t have cried in front of everyone, and I shouldn’t have made you sit with me.” You insisted. 
The older woman frowned. “Why do you think either of those things were not okay?” Alexia wondered, choosing her words very carefully. 
“I am an adult, Alexia, I am not supposed to act like a child.” You argued, not really sure what she wasn’t understanding. 
Alexia knew she wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but she at least knew that it was okay to cry, and it was okay to need comfort sometimes. She wasn’t really sure why you didn’t seem to get that. 
“I do not know who told you that crying and needing comfort is for children, but they are wrong. You can always come to me, or any of the girls, when you are upset, no matter what you need. None of us will think any less of you. We are teammates, and friends, and we are here for you. Understand?” 
You were surprised at her words, and more surprised that they made sense. You knew who had told you those things, and you wondered why you had believed them on this, when you were normally so careful to take what they said with a grain of salt. Very suddenly, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had given you a hug, and things started to make more sense. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you, realizing that something they had done was not normal, but this was a realization that made you a bit more emotional than the others. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to annoy anyone.” You replied quietly, looking down at your feet and away from Alexia’s kind eyes. 
Your captain shook her head firmly. “You could never annoy us.” 
Slowly, you nodded, accepting Alexia’s outstretched hand as she stood up and pulled you to your feet as well. 
You moved to walk back to the media room, but Alexia pulled you back, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” She asked, opening her arms for you. “It has been a stressful day. One of my teammates does not understand how much we all love her and it makes me very sad.” 
You rolled your eyes, feeling something deeply happy and hopeful bloom inside of you. You accepted the hug, falling into Alexia’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “She knows. I think she just forgets sometimes.” You murmured, your voice muffled in Alexia’s training top. 
“Well, we will just have to remind her then, yes?” Alexia said, voice filled with determination. 
And remind you, they did.
------
Their reminders, often unspoken squeezes of the shoulder and encouraging words, worked well. It wasn’t an immediate change, but rather a slow one. There were signs that you were opening up more. Everyone felt an inexplicable sense of pride when you did reach out to one of them, whether physically or more emotionally. 
The first time was when Mapi returned to training with the team for the first time. She had greeted everyone with a hug, turning to you and holding up her hands for high fives. She had long accepted that you didn’t like to be hugged, and she’d been relatively absent in the time that had begun to change. 
She was floored when you ignored her hands in favor of wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. It only took a second before she was returning the gesture, though she looked in surprise towards Alexia, who just smiled back at her. Two big steps were taken that day, and Alexia wasn't sure she could pick which made her happier. You were sure that Mapi’s comeback was the highlight of the week for everyone, while Mapi was pretty sure your hugs brought good luck, because training went perfectly, for you two especially. Or maybe, the joy on both of your faces lit up the pitch, and made everyone play better. Happiness was odd like that, sometimes. Contagious and healing. Barça was a place of happiness, you decided. And of healing. 
------
i know a lot of you were excited about this one, so i hoped it lived up to your expectations :)
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ellecdc · 2 days
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how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk)
would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀
mature content ahead: view discretion is advised
So, are they in a relationship yet? I'm going to go with they're in a relationship for this but if you meant they weren't you can feel free to re-ask
James:
chokes on his spit and nearly trips as he turns to look at you in shock (not unpleasant shock, mind you)
"You're what?"
He'd coo in sympathy after you had to embarrassingly repeat yourself in a whisper, rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction
"awe sweets. Okay, come on." and he's leading you by the hand - he's almost more eager than you are as he rushes down the hall
ends up on his knees with his face under your skirt in the closest bathroom - you'd be taken care of for sure 😩
Sirius:
biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life and you almost regret saying anything
I think he'd tease you a little bit: "Awe, poor dolly's feeling needy, hm?" He'd coo in faux sympathy, the bastard
He'd make you tell him exactly what you're looking for. "What do you want, dolly?" 'touch me' "Like this?" and all he'd do is push your hair behind your ear
two can play at that game: 'Fine, I'll go ask someone else.'
He'd let out a horrified squawk and throw you over his shoulder. "Now now, let's not get hasty. I don't want anyone thinking I don't take care of my girl"
bent you over in the nearest broom closet and you both leave flushed and satisfied
Remus:
would smirk at you but continues reading through the first draft of his essay "really dove? now?"
he'd chuckle listening to you pout and get all breathy as you try to sit still "We've got homework, baby girl."
You'd get petulant and lean back in your seat with a huff, crossing your arms.
without even looking, he'd grab the leg of your chair and pull it over towards him - he'd keep his head low and continue making adjustments on his paper as he slips his free hand under your skirt and moves your panties aside.
"Awe, poor dovey - you really were needy weren't you" he'd lightly tease, murmuring softly so only you could hear.
your breath would hitch as he slipped inside of you, earning you a gentle shush as he threatens to stop moving his fingers.
"I'll take care of you but you have to be quiet; only I get to know how pretty you sound, yeah?"
gets you off with just his fingers in the library - makes up for it again later once he's done his essay
Regulus:
he's mean, I'm sorry
he'd make you wait all day
he'd go to class, to every meal, to quidditch practice barely sparing you a glance leaving you all the more desperate
it was painful for him too, mind you. Thinking about you being needy made him needy, and he spent all day dreaming of taking you over and over and over again
but he's a bit of a sadomasochist lol
he'd finally be all wound up after quidditch practice and would pull you roughly into his room and, like he'd been imagining all day, take you over and over and over again
to the point of over stimulation
"Come on amour, you can give me one more, yeah? Wasn't this what you wanted? Weren't you so needy?"
he got three more for his dirty talk alone
Barty:
no questions asked
'Barty?' "Yes Treasure?" 'I...I want, erm....I mean I...I feel kind of needy'
slams book shut and throws it over his shoulder where it lands in the fountain with a splash
"Where are you two going?" his friends ask bemusedly
"I'm going to treat my girl like a slut the way she deserves, Black; if you're not going to help, mind your fucking business"
you spend the rest of the day in his bed, fucking, smoking, eating, fucking, smoking, fucking, reading, fucking again
you'd hardly ever need to worry about feeling needy with him - whenever, wherever, however - consider it done.
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pickingupmymercedes · 23 hours
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A thousand times over - Lewis Hamilton
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request: Hii! Omg, I just saw a comment on instagram that was so cute it made me think a Lewis fic would be so much cuter. You're my favourite writer for F1 so I know you'd eat this up. So a guy commented that when his wife takes off her wedding rings for baking/gardening/painting/etc and he finds them, he waits til she's done then gives them back to her by proposing to her again. - @happy-golden-hour
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: pure fluff
wordcount: +1K
a/n: The three times Lewis reasks y/n to marry him, and the one time the roles are reversed.
a/n.2: Thank you for the idea bestie, took me a while but I couldn't decide on a single scenario, so there's 3 and a surprise one. Hope you like it ❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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The Gardening Proposal
The morning sun made the garden golden, its rays filtering through the leaves and casting long shadows from the pine trees across the lush grass. Even though it wasn’t even 8 am yet, you were already lost in the peaceful new flower bed you had been working on for the past week. The air was crisp and fresh, a bit of fog still lurking deep in the woods that surrounded your country home, adding to the serene atmosphere.
Lewis looked over from the porch at the scene, his ever-attentive eyes lost in thought as he admired you. His fingers played with the golden band of your wedding ring he had found on the kitchen counter just minutes ago. The soft glint of the ring caught his eye, reminding him of the love and commitment you shared.
Before you could even feel his presence, he cleared his throat to catch your attention. Your vision as you turned was him, in only his basketball shorts, kneeled in the grass by the flower bed. In his hand was the band you had left in the kitchen the previous day, placed carefully so it wouldn’t get dirty amidst the dirt.
"Love, would you marry me, again?" Lewis said softly, holding out the ring between his fingers, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. His voice was gentle, carrying a hint of playfulness that always had melting.
Surprised but delighted by his heartfelt gesture, you accepted the ring, feeling its familiar weight as he slid it back onto your finger. The metal felt cool against your skin, a tangible reminder of the bond you shared. "Thank you," you whispered, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.
Lewis chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at you. "Well, is that a yes?" he began, his voice filled with warmth and humor. His playful tone made you laugh, easing any lingering nerves.
Tears of happiness welled in your eyes as you nodded, your voice filled with emotion. "Yes, a thousand times over" you replied, sealing your promise with a passionate kiss. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air around you, a perfect moment in your blossoming garden.
The Workout Proposal
The early night lights danced around in your bedroom windows as you read your book. You had just finished an intense workout in your home gym, the exhaustion and exhilaration leaving you feeling both drained and sleepy. So, after a shower, you had wrapped yourself in a plush robe, seeking comfort in your bed for a bit before thinking about dinner.
A while later Lewis found you, curled up in bed. A smile tugged at his lips as he admired your relaxed demeanor, his fingers playing with the ring he had found placed at tv console in the gym, now safely tucked in his pocket. Scooting closer to you on the bed, he gently pulled you into his embrace, his warmth enveloping you. His touch was gentle, and with a contented smile, you nestled closer to Lewis, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. His arms wrapping around you protectively.
In that intimate moment, Lewis gazed into your eyes softly. "I love you," he whispered, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "And I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."
“I love you” You whispered back as you looked up at him, although not without a questioning look, as to why the sudden confession.
He let out a chuckle and reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the ring, his features full of adoration as he asked you for the thousandth time "Will you marry me, again?" his voice barely above a whisper.
Overwhelmed you took a moment to gather your words, your heart pounding just like it had when he asked for the first time. “Yeah, always”, your voice steady and certain. As he slipped the ring onto your finger, sealing your renewed commitment, your hands reached for the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours.
The Candles Proposal
The aroma of a Sunday roast filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of herbs and spices. You were in the kitchen, focused on preparing a delicious meal for Lewis's family. His mother was by your side, offering her expertise and sharing cherished family recipes.
As you started making fresh pasta from scratch, you carefully removed your new wedding ring, placing it in Lewis's hand for safekeeping. He smiled, understanding the gesture, and pocketed the ring, promising to keep it safe.
The meal was a success, filled with laughter, stories, and the warmth his family always provided. As you two got back home late at night you headed for the shower, to clean up and decompress.
When you returned to the living room, you were greeted by the soft glow of candlelight. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, and soft music played in the romantic and intimate background that Lewis had created.
In the center of the room, Lewis knelt on one knee, his eyes filled with love and determination. The ring you had entrusted to him earlier glinted in his hand, catching the candlelight. "Since I still don’t believe it’s true… would you marry me?” Lewis asked softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection as he held out the ring to you.
"Yes, Lew" you replied, your voice filled with love and gratitude. "I would be honored to marry you, over and over again." Surprised and touched by him, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. The love and thoughtfulness he had put into this moment a reminder of the lengths he would go to show the love he felt.
The Surprise
As you entered the newly painted nursery, a smile spread across your face at the sight of the lovingly decorated room. Your heart swelled with anticipation at the thought of welcoming your baby into this home and to finally start your own family.
As you admired each detail, your eyes fell upon the wedding band resting on the dresser. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the ring, a tender smile playing on your lips as you realized Lewis had left it behind, probably had taken if off when he was painting.
Knowing he must be in his study, you made your way there, your heart fluttering with excitement. Entering the room, you found Lewis absorbed in his work, surrounded telemetry and car part’s designs. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head against his shoulder.
He turned to meet your gaze, a soft smile lighting up his face as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands automatically resting on your 6 months-bump. "You know, I can't physically kneel like you always do" you teased, a playful glint in your eye, "but there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Lewis chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he waited for you to continue. With a grin, you reached into your pocket, retrieving the wedding band. Holding it up between you, you met Lewis's gaze, your heart overflowing with love and joy.
"Would you marry me?" you asked, your voice filled with warmth and affection. Lewis's eyes shimmered with emotion. Without a moment's hesitation, he nodded, his voice filled with love. "Yes, I’ll marry you, every day if need be"
As you slipped the ring onto his finger, sealing your renewed commitment, you knew that no matter what life had in store, your love would always be the guiding light that led you through every joy and challenge.
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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
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murdrdocs · 2 days
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I just want them to beg for my touch, to have them so stupid that they would beg for even a hand job, but I also want them to look at me as if I'm a goddess as I ride them, as if I personally put every single little star in the sky (and yes, this is about the subby men)
sub!stiles stilinski; handjobs; begging; MDNI 18+ w/ STILES STILINSKI
stiles' teasing nature always melts away as soon as your hand lands on his crotch. if the roles were reversed, and you melted as quickly as he did with just the slightest touch, stiles would tease you relentlessly. he would mock you as he said something along the lines of "my girl is always so needy, isn't she?".
and it feels so good to be the one saying that now. pouting up at him almost cynically as you stroke over his boner with the lightest touch. "my boy is always so needy, isn't he?"
you don't realize just how far gone stiles is until he doesn't feed you a reply that is just as sardonic. instead, he stares blankly at you, the only signal of life existing behind those eyes being the way they flicker from your own eyes to your lips over and over again.
you drop the act just a bit. just enough to not be mean. but you're still a little rude about it. not in the way you push forward and press your lips to his. not in the way you pull his pants off and spit into your palm before circling his cock with your palm. but in the way you almost give him what he wants.
you pump his cock with perfectly crafted strokes. and just when he starts to get into it, when his head falls back and his breathing turns all labored, you take your touch away. you kiss his neck, you tap your fingertips against his leaking head.
it's surprising how you don't even have to tell stiles what to do. he starts begging on his own volition. not as sweet and desperate as you would have wanted. at least not at first. but when it comes, it's so worth it.
you're between his legs, kissing around his thighs and torso. missing the spot that literally cries thick fluid for you every single time. until up above you, you think he might cry too.
he expels his desire verbally instead of with secretion.
"please. pleasepleaseplease. i'll do anything. just touch me, please?" it would be downright evil for you to deny stiles when his begging is so pretty.
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Fic Rec List
hi - welcome to my attempt at being a fic writer again. i have a wip list in the works but first things first: my fic rec list of all the works i've found and adored.
if you don't know yet, you will know soon that i am such a sucker for angst. i hope you find something new to love from the list below !
i will aim to update this weekly with new additions have NEW tagged next to it. additionally, if any fics become archived / deleted i will also tag it as such.
p.s. all summaries have been written by the authors themselves.
* updated thursday 18 april 2024 *
like my selection of fic recs? have a player who's not been featured? let me know and i'll go on a deep dive for you!
ANAHEIM DUCKS
better man (trevor zegras) by @starry-hughes summary: even though trevor wasn't good for you, you can't help but miss him sometimes.
hard to forget (trevor zegras) by @hockey-fics summary: you had a history with trevor but it was a history you had worked hard to forget. but forgetting it becomes even harder when a new person finds their way into the middle. word count: 11.8k
something about the sunshine (trevor zegras) by @huggybug word count: 3k
last night in anaheim (trevor zegras) by @itsjusthockey word count: 2.3k
CAROLINA CANES
do i really have to tell you (brady skjei) by @senditcolton summary: do i really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? word count: 6.7k
this is how it ends (sebastian aho) by @silverstonesainz-archive summary: not every chapter ends in happily every after word count: 6.4k
i could love you with my eyes closed (sebastian aho) by @matthewtkachuk summary: sebastian doesn't like your boyfriend - he's forgetful, stands you up, and doesn't know a thing about you. When will you see that he's the right guy to figure you out? word count: 4k
finish line (sebastian aho) by @silverstonesainz-archive summary: a resolution where all parties are happy. word count: 4.1k
lover boy (seth jarvis) by @sydnikov summary: hockey is a violent sport, one based on luck yet also talent, and most never escape unscathed. you learned that lesson too early, and haven't quite been the same ever since. then seth jarvis comes along, tearing down your hardened walls with ease, and, suddenly… you don't feel so alone anymore. word count: 9.7k
being bold (seth jarvis) by @sydnikov summary: seth has a crush on you. a bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to seth’s advances. word count: 7.4k
9PM in Vancouver (andrei svechnikov) by @thewintersoldierdisaster summary: on a mini trip to vancouver to watch andrei play, you suffer the worst loss of your life. andrei is your rock throughout the ordeal word count: 7k
in five (andrei svechnikov) by @sydnikov summary: something hurt/comfort where the reader is comforting svech when he finds out he has have to surgery, and helping him through the recovery process. word count: 6.7k
COLORADO AVS
summers back home (nathan mackinnon) by @happer08
crushes with beefcake (nathan mackinnon) by @ohmyeyesmyeyes summary: josh has some questions and nate jumps at the opportunity to tell a little story of his own word count: 5.9k
i didn't have it in myself to go with grace (nathan mackinnon) by @mattyanonwrites summary: y/n & nate have been fighting for weeks, will they survive the great war or will they bury their love in a shallow grave? word count: +2.4k
monday morning (nathan mackinnon) by @matthewtkachuk summary: the boys win the Stanley Cup and you end up in bed with one of them word count: 1.2k
colorado (for the first time) (nathan mackinnon) by @withwritersblock summary: Y/N returns to Denver after her breakup with Nate word count: 3.9k
FLORIDA PANTHERS
subtle (matthew tkachuk) by @hockey-hoe-24-7 word count: 3.1k
you say you hate me (matthew tkachuk) by @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys summary: four times you were forced to spend time with Matthew plus one time you chose to. word count: 7.2k
all for you (4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and one time matty did it for you): pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4 & pt 5 (matthew tkachuk) by @comphersjost summary: finally fed up with pining over your best friend from afar, you enlist the help of matthew to help you get the guy - you’re just not really sure who the guy is anymore. or: 4 times you tried to tell brady you loved him, and the one time matty told him for you.
4 times you fake a relationship + 1 time you didn't (matthew tkachuk) by @hockeywhy word count: 17.2k
4 times you didn;t find the one + 1 time you did (matthew tkachuk) by @hockeywhy summary: 11.3k
homecoming (matthew tkachuk) by @doc-pickles summary: five times matthew came home to you from a roadie
NEW JERSEY DEVS
gin, tonic, and tequila shots (jack hughes) by @hockey-fics summary: you really didn’t think you could expect much from a relationship that started with nothing more than hooking up. but as the occurrences become more and more frequent your feelings become more and more involved in something that you were sure could only end in heartbreak. word count: 5.5k
stay the night (jack hughes) by @eyesthatroll summary: loosely based of of this prompt: "one character thinks their relationship is a fling, the other thinks its destiny" but not really because i kind of strayed away from that completely. word count: 1k
everybody wants you, but i don't like a gold rush (jack hughes) by @sunkissed-zegras summary: y/n had always been in love with jack since she was a kid, but he had always chosen everyone else but her. word count: 10.7k
invisible string (luke hughes) by @hugshughes summary: luke had been one of your closest friends since childhood. somehow, everything in both of your lives just came back to each other. word count: 3.8k
tidal wave (luke hughes) by @babydollmarauders summary: in which Mark’s girlfriend and his best friend have a secret. word count: 6.6k
drops of jupiter: pt 1 & pt 2 (jack hughes) by @youunravelme summary: being friends with your ex wasn’t the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, breaking up with him took that slot.
breakable heaven series: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4 & pt 5 (jack hughes) by @chewingcyanide summary: a summer getaway to the coast unravels more secrets than you’re comfortable sharing; namely, the love you’ve harbored for your best friend’s older brother for nearly five years. based loosely on cruel summer by taylor swift.
hey, i can be your boyfriend (nico hischier) by @theemporium summary: when in desperate need for a date to your friend's wedding, the last person you expected to step up was nico hischier. then again, he didn't step up as much as he was thrown into the mess by jack. word count: 11.6k
second best (jack hughes) by @chewingcyanideA summary: secretly pining over someone is never fun—even less so when they’re your childhood best friend, and dating someone else.
my heart's racing, and it isn't the exercise (luke hughes) by @sunnyskiesscareme summary: luke hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law
head start (jack hughes) by @youunravelme summary: you’ve had a crush on the middle hughes brother for as long as you can remember. and really, why wouldn’t you? he’s everything. so why would he ever fall for you?
first rule of fight club (jack hughes) by @thatintrovertedwriter summary: what's the number one rule when playing on a sports team? don't fall for your teammate's sister. has jack hughes ever been good at following rules? no, no he has not.
valentines (nico hischier) by @hischierdevils summary: nico questions your relationship on valentine’s day word count: 1.3k
reaching out (jack hughes) by @bedsyandco summary: 3 times jack wanted to reach out after the breakup + 1 time he did word count: 1.16k
clumsy (jack hughes) by @babydollmarauders summary: quinn and luke realize how clumsy y/n is after noticing how often jack unconsciously keeps her from harm
a walk down memory lane (jack hughes) by @letsgetrowdy43 summary: jack having to witness the love of his life getting engaged
lover of mine (nico hischier) by @ohmyeyesmyeyes word count: 21k
you're not the one (nico hischier) by @ladylooch summary: what if you and Nico met in NYC through friends in common since you have a very nice job there, and after spending a lot of time together and being flirty Nico asks you to be his gf but you say no, not because you don’t like him but because he is a pro athlete, and that doesn’t mean he’ll cheat but the fact that he’ll have to be away almost all of the time. word count: 3.7k
moth to a flame (jack hughes & trevor zegras) by @itsjusthockey word count: 2.9k
when the party's finally over: pt 1 & pt2 (jack hughes) by @itsjusthockey
NEW YORK ISLANDERS
five times everyone knew mat loved you & the one time mat realized himself (mathew barzal) by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 word count: 11.8k
bad luck charm (mathew barzal) by @matwith1t summary: the four times you watch mat lose a hockey game, and the one time you watch him win // 4+1 word count: 11.3k
show you (mathew barzal) by @islesnucks summary: after hearing something he shouldn't have Mat is set on proving he is serious about dating you word count: 7.2k
to all the girls you've loved before: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6 (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.
the word wing-woman (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?
this is how you fall in love (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat. word count: 18.9k
it's nice to have a friend (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties
we've come so far baby (mathew barzal) by @mendeshoney word count: 15.4k
TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS
cause i'm not ready (auston matthews) by @misshoneyimhome summary: jealous!auston; Austonxreader;
3 times people asked you if you an auston were together + 1 time you finally are? (auston matthews) by @bedsyandco word count: 1.2k
we're parents? like actually parents? (auston matthews) by @austonwithan-o
moth to a flame (auston matthews ft mitch marner) by @marnerparty
VANCOUVER CANUCKS
lucky (quinn hughes) by @43-hugs summary: in which quinn counts his lucky stars.  word count: 20k
4 times everyone else caught on before the 1 time you and quinn finally did (quinn hughes) by @mrsensitive summary: a good old 4+1 ft. best friend beau & a couple other cameos, some mutual pining and also reader is a costume designer.
5 times Quinn wanted to kiss you + 1 time he finally did (quinn hughes) by @bedsyandco
friend's don't (quinn highes) by @hischierdevils summary: everyone can see that you and quinn are more than friends. everyone except the two of you. word count: 2.4k
third time's the charm (quinn hughes) by @thatintrovertedwriter summary: in which quinn hates parties, yet keeps throwing them in hopes you'll show up.
fearless (quinn hughes) by @theemporium summary: the five times you tried to deny it, and the one time you and quinn gave into the bond pulling you together word count: 8.3k
plus one (quinn hughes) by @bagopucks word count: 4.6k
growing up is (quinn hughes) by @adoristsposts summary: in which quinn has a hard time coming to terms with the road your relationship has taken
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Ominis Gaunt X F!MC - Drunk Virgins
🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI
Warnings: implied alcohol use, embarrassing erection, slightly painful virginity sex, drunk sex, unprotected p-in-v, mentions of blood
1.5k words
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Ominis swayed, more drunk then he’d honestly like to be. Fuck Sebastian for pushing more alcohol and damn himself for agreeing to if because if she was agreeing to do shots with Sebastian, so should he. Sobriety be damned.
It was disorienting enough being blind in a room full of loud music and lots of bodies. But he knew his friends were close, never drifting far from one voice in particular.
It was at that moment as her small body crashed into his, erupting into a fit of giggles against his front. He held her close, afraid that if he didn’t she would tumble to the ground in a drunken fit of giggles.
She seemed to get her bearings, swaying and bouncing against him. He smiled and laughed with her, doing his best to mimic her bounces and movements.
The song switched and the room got louder with cheers and whoops. Her scent invaded his senses as she moved again, this time turning away from him but still plastered to the front of him.
He wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands so they hovered around her till she grabbed them and firmly placed them to her hips. He felt her bend at the waist in front of him, rear pressed up against his crotch and immediately ripping the air from his lungs in shock.
He heard the whoops and cheers of their friends cheering as she began to wiggle against him. He’d heard of this before. This was what his friends had called twerking and his cheeks went scarlet.
He couldn’t help the really inconvenient swell of his cock as he used his grasp to urge her away. She fought back, eager to stay against him and he swallowed nervously as she suddenly stopped, standing back up and turning to face him.
He braced for the inevitable slap across the cheek that was coming. But was surprised when instead her hand gently caressed the outline of his cock through his trousers.
She giggled, removing her hand and standing up on her tiptoes to talk next to his ear. “Looks like someone got a little too excited.”
He was absolutely mortified. This was where she’d leave him, unseeing and with a quite noticeable erection in the middle of a dance floor of his drunken peers. Embarrassed as he tried to duck to safety. But that’s not what happened.
Instead she stayed in front of him, taking his hand and guiding him through the crowd till the music was a bit quieter. He was vaguely aware they’d changed locations when he heard a door shut, dampening the music further.
He was about to inquire where they were but was stopped by a silky soft pair of lips meeting his which were slightly numbed from the alcohol. His hand struggled, one settling on her waist and the other wrapping around the back of her warm neck and into her hair.
She took this well, moaning into his mouth and pushing him back against a wall. Something clattered to the ground beside them but it didn’t perturb her as she pushed herself against him.
He could feel all her soft curves through their clothing, could feel the quick rise and fall of her chest against his. He was hyper aware of her small whimpers she let loose into their kiss. Godrick. She felt like heaven and sin wrapped into one.
His body was an inferno, red hot embers glowing to life beneath his skin where she touched him. His head spun but he was vaguely aware of her moving and his belt being tugged at.
He couldn’t believe what was happening but the alcohol swimming through his veins did nothing to stop what was about to happen.
Her lips finally left his and he heard her voice, small and out of breath as she asked him something. It took a bit to process it. What had she asked? “Do you have a condom?”
He shook his head. Because he didn’t. He had some in his dorm, ones that Sebastian had always told him he was free to use but he’d never carried them on his person because…he was Ominis Gaunt. Probably one of the least likely blokes to get action (besides maybe the coward Hobbhouse).
She finally tugged his belt open, the lack of protection not seeming to dull her need as she slurred, pulling at his pants fastenings. “S’fine. M’on the potion. Gotta have you in me.”
In her? For Merlin’s sake. She freed him, tugging his trousers and underwear down just enough for his heavy erection to spring free. She gasped. “So good. Gonna be so big inside…”
Was she complimenting his size? Was he considered big by a witch's standards? He wouldn’t have anything to compare himself to but if she was pleased that’s all that mattered.
He heard her hiking her skirts as she pulled him off the wall and closer to her. Her hips seeming to be higher, she tugged him till he stumbled, catching himself on a wooden crate she seemed to be sitting on.
She tugged him closer and he allowed himself to clumsily grab onto her, lifting her leg and clumsily brushing his stiffness against her. She moaned and he swallowed nervously.
She was feeling impatient, reaching between them and lining him up against her opening. “C-come on. Please. J-just fuck me Ominis…”
She sounded so good and like she needed this so badly. He had no clue what he was doing but thrust forward, wringing a strangled cry from her throat.
He was in heaven, she was sure of it. Sheathed in a tight wet heat that he’d never even imagined. He bucked his hips, wringing another cry from between her lips. She was so loud, louder than the thumping music outside, he was sure of it.
He groaned, pulling out and pushing back in, way deeper than last time and wringing a yelp from her. She gripped the forearm that held her tightly. Only now did he feel her shaking.
He pulled out of her, causing a sharp cry from her now and he worriedly brought his hands up to her face. “O-oh fffuck, are you okay?! D-did I hurt you?”
She pulled him closer and confusion took hold of him, sobering him just a bit and he realized the gravity of what he’d done. He could smell the metallic tinge of blood. He’d just lost his virginity and taken hers in the process. “Shit…I didn’t know…”
His hands smoothed over her hair and he held her close, feeling her wet lashes against his neck. He held her like that till she nudged him. He quickly backed off but she pulled him closer by his tie. “I wanna keep going.”
He went still as stone in front of her. He hated the hopeful twitch of his desire between them. “B-but you’re hurt. We don’t need to…we shouldn’t.”
She pulled him against her and he swallowed nervously, feeling her wetness kissing his tip. She felt so slick, like he could slide back in too easily. “It’s normal. That’s supposed to happen. Please, Ominis…”
Her plea sent a pang through him and he nodded, deciding mentally it would likely hurt her worse if he took this moment from her and didn’t even go through with it.
She tugged him again and he slid back in with no resistance. Guilt hammered inside of him. She was only slick from her blood and he’s ashamed at the wave of heat that causes to rush through him.
Her heat enveloping him again felt too good and with a positive sounding whimper he slowly pushed deeper. She gasped but didn't push away. He lifted her leg up to lay in the crook of his elbow and she moaned, tightening around him and causing a wave of blood to rush to his head.
He was dizzy with the need to let instinct take over and buck greedily into her now pliant body. He kept his composure though, fucking her slowly and tenderly. His other hand came up, kneading her breast through her shirt and he groaned when he felt the peak of her nipple through the fabric.
He moaned, whispering praises and sweet nothings as she moaned and whimpered with every crash of his hips. His pace picked up, getting harder and faster and soon she was a moaning mess, tightening and squeezing around him while he fucked her vigorously.
A sharp cry left her lips and she tightened so fucking tight around him. Crying out her release. He pressed his sweaty forehead against hers, fucking her through it before deciding to pull out, stroking himself till a guttural moan left him and thick milky spurts of cum decorated her inner thigh.
He was tired and embarrassed in a way he never had been before, leaning against her for support. She regulated her breathing then gave a breathy chuckle. They’d made an absolute mess of the closet. “Careful…we’re both pretty covered in blood.”
A blush darkened his cheeks but she pulled her wand, casting a cleaning charm on them and he sighed with relief when he no longer felt sticky with her blood. She helped tuck him away and fixed his hair back to a neat coif.
There was so much not said between them as she climbed down off the crate, straightening her clothes out. What did this mean for them? He supposed they’d have to sober up and have a conversation about it sooner rather than later.
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romeavecryst · 3 days
Text
Fragments of Love ˖ ࣪⊹
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K. TUSKISHIMA x Fem!reader ˖ ࣪⊹
Sum: Loving Tsukishima wasn’t easy, and eventually the fraction of love he gave her wasn’t enough to make up for his words anymore.
Warnings: Angst, toxic relationships, cursing, not proceed ofc!!
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.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
It was to perfect, wasn’t it? Sure she knew what she had gotten herself into when she began dating him knowing it wasn’t easy. But every couple has downs right? But one fight turned into one every week, and one every week turned into almost every day. They’d go days without having a meaningful conversation or even checking up on one another. The smile she once greeted him with slowly disappearing every time he saw her, she looked exhausted.
She was, she was tired of begging for his attention his love. The fucking bare minimum, why couldn’t he give it to her? Because he simply didn’t want to? ‘
‘Just leave him.’
She couldn’t, she stayed because even after the cruel words he said to her even after he got in her face even after everything. She came back to him every single time. Because he apologized.
He’d apologize, holding her close to him and tell her that he was sorry and he loved her. He’d show her so much love, because deep down he knew he was wrong for what he’s done.
That she never. Ever. Deserved the things he said yet he said them to her. He’d break her heart over and over again and she stayed. And everyone remind him that, simply tell him that he didn’t deserve her. That he took her generosity for granted, and that someday she won’t be as forgiving, that she won’t run back into his arms.
Their voices echoed outside the gym, they had been arguing all day and it finally erupted. Him complaining that she’s taking up his practice time, that he has better things to do then sit her and argue with “ a fucking-!”
“A fucking what?! A fucking what Kei!”
“A stupid fucking bitch!”
“Fuck you! You don’t care about anyone but your fucking self!”
He scoffed going back and forth with her, his face close with her as there screaming match became more heated. The sound of the gym doors opening being drowned out as they yelled. “You put your hands on her I’ll put you down my self.”
Tsukishima turned around quickly the feeling of his captains hand grabbing his arm, “like I’d fucking touch her.” He said.
Daichi glanced at his fist then to him “but you thought about it.” His voice stern. Tsukishima scoffed pulling away from Daichi walking to the gym, not sparing her a glance. As sick as it was she wouldn’t be surprised if he ever laid his hands on her, he’s punched walls and thrown things at her.
Daichis eyes met hers, her makeup running her eyes bloodshot. “Think it’s best you head home for the night.”
So she did.
And when it was time for his cycle to repeat, she stood there her eyes lifeless as she looked at him. Moving her head when he tried touching her face. Her anger was still fresh. Give her time. Give her time to come back like she dose.
Time was given and she didn’t run back into his arms, she didn’t accept his apologies. Days had passed and he was going crazy, the messages he sent being left on read over and over. Her never responding to them even when he would curse as her and tell her stop being dramatic in the voicemails he sent. He couldn’t stand how she avoided him in the halls like he was nothing. He was weak.
He’d never admit it would he that he was weak without her. It made him sick how dependent he was for her. Once two weeks had pass he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Please.” A broken sob came from his throat.
“Go home Kei.” She spoke turning around to face him more.
Tsukishima was on his knees his head touching the pavement as he bowed apologetically, “I’m begging you please.” He cried.
He had finally looked up to her hoping there was something, even a simple frown in her brows. But nothing, she faced him emotionless. Just like last time. He’d sucked the last bit of life out of her, that when he finally decided to care it was too late. He wanted her to laugh in his face right now tell him how pathetic he was; crying at her feet like this. Yet she just stood there her hands tucked away in her sleeves her arms crossed.
“You used to make me feel good about myself, but now you make me feel like shit.” She spoke softly.
“Like I’m not good enough, or interesting enough-“
“I don’t think that..” he started.
“No shut up. Because that’s bullshit Tsukishima! You’ve told me yourself,” she scoffed. “Telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m lame, that I’m annoying that I’m unlovable.” She said her voice cracking.
His heart broke because she was right. He never had anything good to say, he’d done nothing but degrade her for months. That he was the cause of all of this because he couldn’t show her his love.
“I hate that it’s taken me till now to open my eyes,” no, no,no.
“Because I am enough. I am interesting, I am worthy of fucking love!” She spoke her voice stern.
She was worthy of love, yet he never showed that to her. He wasn’t worthy of hers, he didn’t deserve the chance she gave him. And she was going to leave him, this was what he was so afraid of. Trusting letting someone in. But how could he feel that what when the person he treated so horribly let him in so easily over and over again, he treated her like a fucking chore. Not his girlfriend.
“We’re done Kei. Over. I’m transferring, because I can’t be around you. I’m blocking and removing you on socials, don’t fucking reach out to me. Because with me leaving I don’t know what you’ll do. Maybe you’ll get a new girlfriend and treat her like a fucking human being.”
No, no he didn’t want a new girlfriend. He wanted her, she was leaving him. Leaving him for good. Moving schools so she doesn’t have to she his fucking face anymore. Blocking him so she doesn’t receive messages of him threatening and bullying her then begging for forgiveness. Over and over.
Broken sobs came from him as he stood up walking towards her, pleading her not to go. Just to give him a chance he’ll make it right this time. He promises. He promised to love her. To cherish her. That nobody could love him like she did because she was lovable. Because he was so fucking in love with her.
His head pressed against her front door as he begged her to open it, that he’ll make it right. A loud thud of his fist hitting the door as he cried. “Go home Tsukishima or I’m calling your brother to pick you up.” She spoke her back to the door.
“Don’t do this.. please.”
His brother had eventually picked him up with Yamaguchi and his father. When he got home he stood in his room phone in hand a message typed out to her. The message was green when he sent it.
“FUCK!” He yelled throwing his phone. Anger, was all he felt Anger and sadness. As he thrashed his room tears streaming down his face. He fucking hated her how could she do this to him. How could she leave him. That she made him feel so loved and she just left him. God how pathetic, she was a fucking loser, leave him? How could she leave him in so much pain?
“You’re actually joking me right…”
Tsukishimas eyes met his best friends. “What..”
“You’re blaming her.. how dare she leave?”Tadashi scoffed. Tsukishimas eyes left his looking over the others that sat with him during break Kageyama and Hinata.
The team stayed out of his business of corse but tsukishima brought this on himself rambling about her, because he was obsessed. Because he couldn’t admit he was in the wrong. That he was wrong, but how dare she leave right? Because it’s all on her.
“You ruined her.” The voice of the team’s manager spoke up.
Everyone looked at her, before Tsukishima could open his mouth she turned towards him “You ruined her, she let you hurt her over and over again. And she stayed. But when she’s finally fed up with your bullshit. When she became self aware of her self worth it’s selfish? Shame on her for wanting to be loved right? Shame on her for knowing she is so much more than you ever deserved.” She scoffed.
Kiyoko looked Tsukishima in the eyes “Thanks to you, she won’t ever be able to let anyone in as easily again, she won’t be able to feel loved because you tore her apart, you didn’t love her.”
“I did, I do love her. Fuck you, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spoke standing up.
Kiyoko rolled her eyes. “You don’t, you never fucking loved her because if you did she still be here. If you loved her you would have showed her.”
“But you’re a fucking insecure loser.” She finished her tone filled with venom.
Tsukishima was speechless. Kiyoko was right, that if he loved her she would still be there. With him smiling, holding his hand. But she wasn’t.
He ruined her, ruined her sanity and self respect for herself. Shame on her for having an enough to leave him so she could fix herself. Because all of a sudden once she left once he knew he lost her he started caring. She wouldn’t let anyone love her in the way she deserved because of him, because of him she’ll create a barrier never to let anyone in again.
Because he only gave her a fragment of his love.
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 it’s very much ranting apologies.. listened to ceilings on repeat while writing this!!
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liz-crazywrld · 3 days
Text
Put in your place
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(Pretend you come from Earth 2.O)
Geidi Prime is a dark planet, polluted with black smog and a black sun, with the purest milkiest of moons, they have two.
I put on a long beautiful dark blue tight fitting dress, with jewels coving it entirely. I made sure I looked my best. I was expecting to have my dinner with him tonight but he didn’t show up, so I ended up eating alone, the loneliness was eating at my soul so I just left without finishing.
I came back to my room and stood by the balcony, I had my head rested in my hands as I stared at the moons. I’ve always imagined a fairytale marriage, a romantic dinner, a heartfelt proposal and a loving romantic relationship where my husband will care and protect me no matter what.
I was in a complete world of my own, you see I’m an optimist so I’ve been imagining my life on either Geidi Prime or Arrakis to the best of my abilities. I felt a breeze and a hand on my shoulder, so I did the most rational thing. It could’ve been anyone trying to touch me with any agenda so I jumped with a small scream and punched them in the face.
“Oh my, my Lord, Feyd Rautha, I am so sorry, please forgive me” I cried nearly bursting into laughter.
I made his nose bleed and he was holding it as blood flowed down. He had a very surprised expression on his face, he looked up at me, I had my hand over my mouth in shock, and he started laughing, so did I.
“Please Princess, it’s not a problem, but I just admit you throw a strong punch,” He laughed.
“I must admit no one has ever drawn blood from me before”
“Thank you my Lord, seems I throw them to the wrong people.” My confused expression left and I looked sad apparently.
“I am very sorry I did not join you for dinner, I didn’t imagine you’d want to see me eating raw meats” he says leaning against the balcony facing you.
“No my Lord, eat whatever you desire, it will not affect how I perceive you.” I said walking to stand next to him.
He smells gorgeous and looks so clean in his all black outfit, his trousers and a long neat black shirt. It really suited him.
“I appreciate that Princess, I will eat with you tomorrow night if you would like”
“I would love to eat with you” I say staring deep into his eyes, they are so beautiful especially when they aren’t full of rage. When his eyes are calm they look phenomenal. He just smiled, he didn’t say anymore after that.
I walked back inside the room, he followed behind me like a puppy. I sat on the edge of my bed, he waited for me, you see, I don’t have to use the voice on him, he’ll simply just do as I say.
“Kneel” of cause he did as he was told. He knelt infront of me, I stroked his face.
“Are you using the voice on me Princess?”
“No” quick and short, I don’t want to talk about foolishness.
I caressed his face, holding it, every time he thought he was getting a kiss but no, I’m not that easy, his right hand was placed on my knee, he rubbed my thighs up and down.
“Me and you Feyd are going to have so much fun when we are married” I said placing a soft kiss on his lips, he closed his eyes and kissed me back but I was done.
“Now don’t you ever disrespect me like that again, you left me all alone during dinner, do it again and see what happened my love” I whispered into his ear
“Yes, yes My Queen, I will never disrespect you ever again” he looked up at me like a pet, giving me his soft puppy eyes
“Now my love, get out. I need my beauty sleep” then before I could blink he was gone…
A/n- thank you for reading xx
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ghostofwriting · 6 hours
Text
Kildare Split Part Four: in another life
Rafe Cameron x reader
Chapter 4: in another life
Note: Here's part four!! I'm still crying over TTPD. Down bad is so incredibly Rafeit's insane. Anyway!! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. This part covers the smau up until part 26. Good luck soldiers!!
Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio, mentions of drugs, mentions of suicidal ideation.
Word Count:  6,722
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Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
Chapter 4: in another life 
It’s a nightmare. Everything feels off. The walls are caving in. His mouth feels as if he had chewed on cotton balls for the past hour. It’s spinning. He’s lost control of himself and he doesn’t know how he’ll get it back. 
It started because of the thought of them together. Forever. Married. Having kids and living happily ever after clawed and his chest and ate him from the inside out. It was an ugly feeling. He wanted to be happy for her. There was no way he could be. Not when he was so deeply in love with her. Not that he ever stopped. 
It was just one blunt. He stole it from Barry. He was careful not to disturb any of the other drugs he had in there. Careful not to look at them too long. He’s been good. Has been clean for more than two years without any missteps. And here he is high once again. It’s just weed he tells himself. It’s fine. He’s fine. 
They’re about to go onstage when Sofia loses her mind. She goes absolutely ballistic. He’s pulling her off to the side away from prying eyes.
“Stop. Relax. Let me explain.” Everything comes out in a jumble as he’s trying to balance his damn guitar and get her to stop flailing her arms everywhere. 
“There’s no explaining anything. We are over. We are so done, Rafe. Holy shit I cannot believe I put up with your crazy obsession with your friend who by the way you didn’t even date. You’re insane.” 
“Can you calm down for a second?”
“No! For your information Rafe. She doesn’t want you! She’s moved on! And we could have too but no. You’re here still pining over something that doesn’t exist. You are so incredibly disrespectful to me. I have been nothing but supportive of you. And I have put up with so much shit from you so much hatred because what? Did I take you away from her? You chose me! You left her. And now I’m leaving you.” 
“Sofia-“
“The way you have treated me the last couple of months with your album release and hinting that it’s about her? Do you have any idea how that makes me look? How it makes me feel? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh! Sorry! You and her! And barely even yourself, you know how I know?” She looks at him, volcanic ash in her eyes. “Because you’re fucking high right now!”
“Keep your voice down.” He pulls her deeper into the corner they’re standing in.
“Fuck you, Rafe. I loved you. I did. I thought that once she moved on, we would be okay. I was wrong. Do not sabotage this for her. She’s happy. You’re not good enough for her. And not for me.”
She does a 180 and storms off away from backstage and away from him. He looks up and Topper is staring at him from where he stands beside Sarah, her hand is on his arm, a look of concern on her face. He shakes his head at them and turns to the stairs that lead to the stage. He spots Y/N and Julio, they’re talking quietly to each other, he sees her laugh and touch Julio’s face, and he kisses the palm of her hand.
Fuck this. He runs back to the green room. He knows he left it around here somewhere and he knows where the lighters are. He digs through three of Barry’s jackets before he finds the blunt. Barry must have moved it. When he pulls it out, a plastic baggie with four white pills comes up with it. He thinks about putting them back. He wants to put them back. He hears the 5-minute warning, stuffs the baggie in his jeans and runs to find a lighter. 
+++
There’s something off about Rafe. She notices when they begin their second song. He’s swaying more than usual, coming up and singing to her face a little too closely. 
It must be because they’re trying to be friends. And maybe the fight with Sofia. It was pretty nasty the way she went at him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, the crowd and music drowning them out. Sofia looked upset. She must have cooled off because she’s in the audience standing next to Sarah. Not that their manager would allow her to leave even if she wanted to. It would cause too much speculation online and that’s something they don’t need more of. 
She hasn’t had to protect Julio from how Rafe and her used to act on stage, during their no-talking years, they still put on an act but it was nowhere near the level of how they acted pre-everything. They were pretty heavy on the PDA, without confirming anything of course. It was more like singing into each other's mics while staring longingly into each other’s eyes. A lot of heavy petting, she would drape herself around Rafe, Rafe would swing her around and carry her. They would practically make out on stage every show. They did everything but have sex. It’s no wonder the theories and rumours started. 
Post everything that went down, they tamed it and kept it to their side of the stage unless they were switching over. They didn’t share a mic and looking at each other too long was off-limits. And now, well now, it looks like Rafe wants to sing into her mouth with the way he gets closer and closer. Julio knows about their past and he knows that she would never do anything to hurt him but this is a little much. She doesn’t want to rub anything in his face or make him feel disrespected. She also can’t diss Rafe on stage. They have an act. They’re all best friends and nothing bad has ever happened between them. 
So she plays along. And she sings into his mic, she whips her hair in his face and he sings over her shoulder. They’re closer than they’ve ever been. This should be a fun one to look at online. At some point, her shirt comes off. She’s a little angry at Rafe’s immediate switch-up. She feels that since they’re just figuring out how to be friends, he could give it a rest and not go all out. So her shirt comes off. It got stuck on the mic stand, she got pissed off that it ripped a little and she took it off, throwing it into the crowd. At some point Rafe is not even fully on the stage anymore, he’s lying down looking up at her as he plays his guitar. She’s standing over him, singing into the mic and playing the bass all while wondering what the hell has gotten into him. 
Security is going insane over Rafe hanging off the stage and people are trying to grab his legs. Sarah is diving into the crowd trying to get a shot of what’s happening on stage. She kind of wants the show to be over but at the same time, it’s the most fun she’s had on stage in a while. 
+++
Trying to find their footing after not being friends for three years, that much is clear. One moment he’s trying to make out with her onstage and the next he can barely look at her. It has been a little bit harder than she thought it would be. 
It’s strangely painful. The realization that they can’t go back to how they were before anything happened. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but these awkward silences might kill her. 
She’s sitting between Topper and Rafe, staring directly at Barry’s bored face as Ash explains who kows what. Something about which celebrities and important label heads are coming to tonight’s show. 
She didn’t care about the label heads. One of their most important shows had been the one two days ago. Their friends had all flown in from different places to see them. Now back in the city she calls home, that’s still all that matters. 
Cleo and Pope flew in from New York, John B and JJ had flown in from Hawaii. JJ would be leaving almost immediately after to continue training for the next big surf competition and John B would be staying at Sarah’s. Julio was at her house, she didn’t want him to have to spend the entire day at rehearsals so she told him to come by when he was ready. Ward was around somewhere too, probably with Sarah and John B. Kelce was at his hotel and would be arriving later with Kie after he got her from the airport, the only one that had missed the last show. It was an important show for them because of their people not because of some random celebrity they didn’t know. 
After the show, they would go to one of their favourite bars to celebrate and then she would be off to North Carolina for a week before moving to Madrid for the foreseeable future.
She was so excited to be there a bit before Julio started filming so they could visit his friends and family. 
After Ash is done running them through the guest list, they have some downtime before their private soundcheck and the fan soundcheck. Fan Soundcheck is her favourite because they get to play some deep cuts and answer some fun questions.
They’re standing backstage as one of their stagehands announces they’ll be out in three minutes. They’re standing in a circle making sure that their in-ears are on. Barry and Topper bickering about some random thing.
“Ready, buddy?” She looks at Rafe, her eyebrow raised as Barry laughs. 
“Buddy? Good one.” Topper laughs as Rafe’s face turns red. 
“Okay yeah, I’ll never say that again.”
“Please,” she laughs, “let’s go.” She leads the guys onto the stage as their fans start screaming. 
They play a song right off the bat and then sit down for a few questions. 
Everything is going fine, the mood is great, they’re all vibing with each other on stage, it’s great. Right up until it’s not. 
“Hi, my name is Sammy, my question is for Y/N.” She smiles at the girl and waves. 
“Hi Sammy, I remember you! You saw our last show too,” she speaks into the microphone. 
“Hi! Oh my goodness yes. I drove here from San Francisco after getting tickets last minute.” The girl rambles. “Okay, so I was wondering, what are you most looking forward to doing on your break?” She mulls over the question before answering. 
“I’m going to be semi-moving to Spain for a while so probably just exploring the city.” Sammy nods and thanks her as the mic is passed to the next person.  
Something shifts on stage after that question. She doesn’t know if she missed something or what, but suddenly the mood is tense. Barry’s in between her and Rafe and she can still feel the tension coming off him in waves. 
After the last question, they played one more song and bid the fans goodbye, telling them they would see them in a few hours for the show. 
Barry goes and does whatever Barry does before a show, Rafe storms off and Topper follows him. She looks over at her guitar tech who just shrugs his shoulders and takes her guitar from her. 
She texts Julio asking when he will be getting to the arena. When she doesn’t receive an answer, she sits in the green room, with no idea where the boys are. 
She dozes off for an hour before her phone blows up with texts from Rafe. She opens Julio’s message first, telling her that he would leave her house in an hour. Then she goes to Rafe’s texts, saying something along the lines of needing to talk to her. She sees that she has notifications from Twitter as well and opens those. From Rafe too. 
“I need you”
“Please don’t go”
“Y/N”
What is he doing? They just talked about trying to be friends, she knows about his feelings but he can’t go around blowing up her phone. He’s just sad about Sofia, how could he expect her to stay after he confessed to her that he still had feelings for his ex who wasn’t really his ex? 
She asks him what he’s doing and he asks to meet her. She tells him no, and that it’s too late to d this. Too late in the day, too late because the show is about to start, and too late because she’s going and she doesn’t want him. 
After telling Cleo to haul ass to the arena. Needing to speak to her about the Rafe of it all. She runs to the bus to hide. She doesn’t want to see him so she’ll avoid the arena. 
She doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t find her inside, he’ll look for her on the bus. 
“Y/N?” She hears him call. She’s in her bunk, curtain drawn and holding her breath. He walks closer and stands in front of her bunk. She can see his shadow. 
“I know you’re in there.” She stays quiet still. “Please talk to me.” She sighs, not able to deny him when he sounds so sad. 
She draws the curtain open and meets his eyes. 
“We talked about this.”
“No, we talked about how I would try to be your friend. Not how you’re going to move away with your boyfriend.”
“What did you expect me to do? Sit at home alone for however long the break ends up being?”
“No, I thought we could hang out when we were both home and repair our friendship or whatever.”
“Rafe, I can’t do that. I won’t put my life on hold for you anymore.”
“Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just feel the same way? Why won’t you love me?” 
She’s surprised by his words. For the first time, she looks at him. Takes in his dishevelled appearance, his jittering hands, and the dilation of his pupils. 
“Are you high?” she swings herself off her bed to get as much distance between them as possible. 
“No.” He’s lying. 
“What the fuck Rafe? Why would you do this to yourself?”
“Because I’m fucking sad okay? And I don’t want to feel anything.” She can’t believe he would go down this road again,  after being clean for so long. She can’t believe he would be around her like this. Not when he knows how many bad memories it brings.
“You have to leave. You have to get away from me.”
“Y/N.” His voice cracks.
“No. You know my history, the shit I have been through because of drugs. You know it very well actually. I don’t need to be around your erratic behaviour. It’s triggering, it hurts me.” Her voice is firm. 
“Okay. I’m sorry.” he backs up turning around quickly and storming off the bus. 
She sits back down, her hands slightly shaking. If he’s using again, she doesn't know if she can have him in her life. 
+++
He’s happy Sarah’s the one that finds him. He’s spread out on the floor. The curtain covers him from the fans' curious eyes. The stage is quiet, with only a few people coming and going. The rest of the crew’s at dinner. 
“What are you doing?” She stares from above him.
“Laying.” He mumbles
“Are you not going to come eat dinner?” She points behind her in the direction of the lunch room.
“Not hungry.”
“What’s wrong?
“Sad.” He sees the annoyance at his one-word answers cross her face. 
“Rafe, full sentences please.”
“Y/N told me to go away. That she couldn’t be around me.” She crouches down next to him. 
“I thought you two were trying to be friends?” she questions. 
“I ruined it.” He can feel himself well up. 
“How?”
“By being high.”
“You are not.” she kneels left to him now, grabbing his face roughly and bringing it so his eyes are aligned with hers. 
“I am.” She looks angry at him. He feels tears start to gather. God, why does he make the women he cares most about in his life so upset?
“You can’t be high. You’re an addict.”
“Just weed. Nothing more.”
“I don’t care if it’s just weed. It’s not just weed for you. It’s a slippery slope. You go from weed to forgetting you’re sober, to cocaine.”
“I’m sorry.” The pity in her look makes his stomach twist.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up before the show. You need food and to sober up.”
“I’ll be sad though.” She stands up, extending her hand out for him to take. 
“You’re high and sad, I don’t think it helped.”
“That’s what the cocaine is for.” He jokes, it doesn’t earn him a laugh, just a scowl.
“Don’t even joke about that.”
Maybe he can get drunk after the show, then he’ll forget how sad he is. 
+++
The show goes off without a hitch. They are all smiles, dripping with sweat as they take the final bow of the tour. Tears are prickling her eyes as she looks over at Topper. His smile was big and shining. She looks at Rafe and he’s messing with Barry’s hair, a burst of laughter leaving him as Barry jumps on his back. Barry waves to the crowd as Rafe piggybacks him off. Topper grabs her hand and pulls her off the stage, waving one last time before they can’t be seen anymore. 
Julio waits for her, a huge grin on his face and his arms wide open for her to run into. Once she lets go of him, she hugs Cleo and then Pope, and then she’s tackled by JJ, Kie, and John B. 
“You all killed it!” JJ yells in her ear, making her jolt back. 
“Fucking best show we’ve ever played!” Topper screams, coming up to her and hugging her. Barry joins the hug putting his sweaty arms around them both. Rafe hesitantly joins the group hug. 
“Another successful tour,” he says, his eyes catching hers in the huddle. She smiles softly. 
“Let’s go party!” Kie screams from down the hallway where she’s started to walk away. 
Everyone starts cheering and following her lead. She finds Julio’s hand as they make their way to gather their stuff and leave the arena. 
+++
He spots Julio come in through the back doors of the club, Y/N hanging off his arm, her lips swollen. His eyes soften when he looks at her. He sees how much he loves her, and how he would never hurt her. He would go to the ends of the world for her. And he hates him. He can’t stand that she’s not hanging off his arm. That he’s not the one kissing her against a brick wall outside a sleazy bar. 
Sofia’s gone. They’re done. And he’s hurting for the relationship that he could have had if he had let go of Y/N. Not that he ever could have. It wasn’t in the cards for him. A world where he wasn’t irrevocably in love with her didn’t exist. 
“You okay?” Sarah comes up next to him, planting her hands on the table to steady herself. 
“I’m high again.” He confesses. 
“Rafe, we talked about this.”
“I get that I just can’t stop. Everything hurts.” They look of pity from earlier returns.
“You need to stop.” He looks past her to where Y/N is.
“It’s just weed.”
“You don’t get to do weed. It’s not just weed to you. Slippery slope remember?
“I know.” 
“I’m here for you. I think you need to go back to rehab. Either before you tour or after. It needs to be sooner rather than later.  I’ll drive you there myself.” She offers. 
The idea of going back to rehab irks him. He’s not as bad as he was last time. He has control over it. At least that’s what he tells himself. 
“I don’t know how to be okay watching her be with someone else.” Sarah looks behind her at Y/N with Julio. Her smile lit up the room. Her laugh was music to his ears. 
“You don’t get to break down about this. You made your choice. Let her be happy. you need to focus on staying sober, you heal, and you move on.” 
“How?” He can’t rip his eyes away from the couple. Wishing with everything in him that it was him with her.
“By being her friend, Rafe.” She pats him on the back. He watches as she follows Topper out the back door where Y/N and Julio had come through earlier. 
Everything he and Sarah talked about flies out the window when Julio of all people see him standing there with a little bag full of who knows what that Barry gave him. Barry’s drunk and high, that’s one of the only reasons he gave it to him. Barry would kill him any other time. 
He’s been toying around with the idea of just doing it. Taking all these pills and getting it over with. 
“You probably shouldn’t take those.” Rafe side glances at him but doesn’t speak.”
“If you’re doing that shit you shouldn’t be around her.” Rafe doesn’t like him and he likes him even less when he tells him if he can or can’t be around Y/N.
“Mind your business.” He barks out.
“This is my business, you know why? Because she’s my business. And she’s a recovering addict too, Rafe. Or did you forget?” He shrugs. 
“Look, I don’t care if you care about your sobriety. But we both know you care about her enough not to risk hers. So if you’re going to do that shit, don’t bring it around her. And stay away from her.” This is the angriest he has ever heard the dark-haired man. 
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do on my tour with my friends.”  Deep down he knows Julio’s right. Right now he doesn’t care what the man says. He wants to fight him. 
“Do whatever the hell you want with yourself, I’m asking you to please, stay away from Y/N if you’re going to do drugs.”
“So you’re isolating her now too.”
“What does that mean?” Julio looks at him, one eyebrow raised, lips tight.
“You’re going to take her away. You’re taking her away from her family and her friends, to live in a country where she knows nobody. What kind of boyfriend does that?” 
“I’m taking her away from you, right?” 
“Yeah, you are.” The words spill from him before he can even think of denying them. 
“She isn’t anyone’s to take away. She makes her own decisions and she chose to be with me.” Julio saying shit like that makes him feel like he thinks he’s the best option. The best man out there.
“Shut up. You’re not better than me just because you say that stuff.”
“I’m not better than anyone, just let her be.” He doesn’t say anything. Julio stands up.
“You had your chance. Let her go.” He stays quiet. Julio starts to walk away. 
“I can’t.” He sees as Julio’s steps stutter.
“I’m going to fight for her.” 
“There’s nothing left to fight for.” He walks away. Back into her arms. Where he wishes he could be.
+++
The two weeks back home in Kildare were filled with press and interviews. Filled with people asking them when the next album was and when they would be back. He was scheduled to go to rehab after two weeks back home but due to scheduling, they had to move his tour up. Y/N was already in Spain. She spent a bit of time with her family, made sure everything was good and then flew off to Europe, taking his heart with her.
They were okay again, he had explained that he would go to rehab and try to get himself under control again. She told him that she was proud of him and that she wished him all the best. She told him that she wouldn’t be able to make it to his first show but that she would be there for his last. She hugged him goodbye on her last day on the island and told him that he would see her soon. 
The engagement scare still circulated in his brain. He’s so afraid that she would get engaged while she was away and he would truly lose her forever. Whenever he thought about it he felt like throwing up. 
One month. One month and he would see her again. 
+++
She stayed with Julio’s family for three weeks in Madrid before they had to go to Valencia where he had to film. She liked being in Madrid the most because she knew how to get around and she could stay at Julio’s house. In Valencia, they’re staying in a hotel so she doesn’t have the comfort of her things. She’ll go to the set with him most of the time but other times they are such long shoots she’d rather do anything else. She wants to explore but she’s so directionally challenged she’s scared to get lost and never return, her map couldn’t even save her sometimes. 
Julio cooks for her every day, he teaches her how to cook some dishes he learned in his classes, they write songs together, and she runs songs by him which turns into them taking turns serenading each other. They drunkenly kiss under street lights and dance in the rain. She’s never felt happier, ever been so in love. 
A month in and she’s back in Los Angeles where Rafe’s playing his last show. She’s excited to be here for him but she’s counting down the hours until she can go back to Spain. 
When she gets home she checks to see that her house hasn’t been broken into and that all pipes are still in place. Her worst nightmare is returning to a flooded house. It all seems normal, she opens a few windows to air it out. Penny’s back in Spain with Julio so she feels extra alone. 
She texts Rafe that she’s back in town and he texts her back within a minute. 
“Thank you for coming, angel.” She smiles at the nickname and responds,
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
He sees her and his world stops. Her hair is in loose waves and it looks a little longer than when he had last seen her. His heart reaches out to her, begging to be in her presence. Sarah notices him there standing like an idiot and waves him over, the motion grabbing Y/N’s attention. 
“Hey,” he says walking over.
“Hi!” She says putting her arms out to him, she goes on her tippy toes to reach him. 
“How are you?” He asks her, slowly letting go. 
“I’m good! Jetlagg is kicking my ass, but happy to be here! Look at you, rockstar.” She has a wide smile on her face that makes him feel like he’s seeing the sun for the first time.
“Yeah,” he laughs a little, scratching the back of his neck, shy all of a sudden.
“I heard a little rumour that Sofia was around?”
“I invited her to a show, extending a branch and all and we talked but that ship has sailed.”
“Are you on good terms?”
“I think we could be better, but it’s okay, I’m not holding my breath.” She links her arm with his, he looks at where their arms connect and feels like he’s on fire. How is he ever going to get over her?
+++
Rafe is amazing. He’s in a class of his own when he’s up on stage giving the show of a lifetime. It makes her tear up. She can’t help but think how he almost gave this all up when they were younger. She can’t imagine him anywhere but the stage. If he were working for his dad, his star would be caged. She’s so happy she could be a small part of his journey. He deserves the world. 
For the first time since they started talking again, she feels like they can go back to normal. She loves him. She can have her best friend back. 
+++
She doesn’t know how fast everything can fall apart. It’s perfect. Too perfect. She should have known that the other shoe would drop sooner or later. That’s how her life goes. She should have known she couldn’t have everything she wants. Things get ripped away eventually.
Rafe and Topper had mentioned that there were rumours they might have to go on a festival run. She hasn’t heard anything from their manager or their label. She likes the idea of a festival run, it could get them playing in front of people who don’t know who they are and expose them to new crowds.
She misses performing, she knows this would cut her time in Spain short. Much shorter than anticipated. She’s supposed to be there for almost seven months, with a bit of travelling back and forth until Julio finishes filming and they can stay in New York for a while. 
She’s only been here for three months. It’s been so nice to be back with Julio full time, and get to do normal couple things after work. She doesn’t know how she’ll break the news to him. She chooses not to until she knows for sure. 
The peace is short-lived. 
“What is this?” Julio holds up the phone for her to take. She grabs his phone and looks at Boston Calling’s festival lineup. She reads trying to see what he’s talking about and finally finds what he’s asking about. Saturday, May 8th: Kildare Split B stage. 
“I promise I didn’t know anything about this.” She tries to reassure him.
“That’s in two weeks.” He says to her, she feels the emotion in his voice.
“I know. I’ll talk to them.” She gives him his phone back and wraps her arms around him. 
“I’m sorry.” They stay wrapped up in each other, silence overtaking them.
+++
“Ash, no one told me. I just thought I had more time.”
“There’s nothing we can do, we have the contract, you’re expected here.” She slides her hand over her face and sighs. 
“Okay. That’s fine, but I’m leaving right after, no press.”
“Y/N, that’s not the only festival. You’ll be doing stops all spring and summer.” Her stomach drops. 
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 
“I’m sorry. The label will make no exceptions. You have to be here for every show.”
+++
She cries in Julio’s arms about having to leave so soon. He tells her it’s okay and that it’s nothing that they aren’t used to. She hates being used to being so far from him. She already misses him. 
They try to get back to normal for the remainder of the time but something shifts. She can’t quite place it. She doesn’t know if it’s her or if it’s him. It feels off. For the first time since they met, it feels like they’re orbiting around different stars. 
They’re returning to their apartment from lunch with one of his co-stars when her world starts to crack. She knows what he’s thinking before he even says it out loud. His eyes are sad and she can read him. She’s never hated him a day since they met. Not until now. She tries to distract herself, tries changing the subject, she tells him she’s going to shower and get ready for bed. 
In the shower, she tries to scrub away the doubt and rubs at her skin to try and rid herself of the feeling. Impending doom. The world ending. A black hole fiding her universe and destroying it before she can do anything to stop it. 
When she gets out of the shower he’s sitting on the edge of their bed facing her, she’s still trying to avoid it, she kisses his cheek and turns away. He stops her from walking away by grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him. She doesn’t face him. She can’t.
“This is so hard.” His voice comes out hoarse.
“Then don’t do it.” 
“I love you so much it hurts.” It’s not supposed to hurt. He taught her that. 
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
“You said we could get through it. You said that it was nothing we hadn’t done.”
“I know what I said. I thought I could.”
“And now you can’t.” He looks at her, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I wish things could be different.”
“No. No. No. Stop, no, you don’t get to break up with me.” She’s screaming, the tears already spilling from her eyes. She’s never felt so crazy. And her world falls apart. She doesn’t remember a time before her life was him and her.
“Y/N. You know I love you, I would do anything for you, and this is the right thing to do.”
“No. You don’t get to choose what is right for me. I do. And I choose you. I always choose you.”
“It’s not feasible. Being away from you. It hurts too much. It hurts you and it hurts me. I can’t do 
it. My heart breaks every time you leave.”
“I’ll do anything.” Tears fall from his eyes as he gulps.
“Moving here is not realistic for you, you were supposed to be here for way longer and look, you leave in three days. I don’t blame you. It’s everything you’ve worked for and I won’t be the person that holds you back.” She’s sobbing now, she can’t see him over her tears, she’s shaking and desperate to get him to listen. To keep him. 
“I’ll quit the band.” It comes tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. she grabs his face and makes him look at her. “I’ll quit.” He looks at her eyes wide. 
“No.”
“Julio, please.”
“You don’t mean that, you’ll resent me and you won’t be happy and it’ll ruin us.”
“I won’t. I promise.” She’d never heard these sounds come out of her body before, so guttural and painful from somewhere deep inside her. 
“You will. You would never ask me to quit acting, would you?”
“No,” she whines, the tears flowing.
“Then how could I ask you to quit your dreams?” He’s right. She knows he is and it fucking hurts. She wants to rip her heart out. She’s never felt pain like this and she wishes she could have never met him. 
That’s not true, the thought of never having him in her life hurts. No matter how painful this moment is, the realization that their relationship is over is, she would never take back the years she spent with him. He showed her what it meant to be loved. How it felt to be seen and wanted. He taught her selflessness in love. She would never take it back. She needs to numb the pain. 
She falls into his arms, her face on his chest as she cries and cries. He holds her like he never wants to let go and cries with her. God how she wishes she could live another life. How she wishes they could be other people. In another life, she thinks. In another life. 
He’s what she wants, but she’s not what he needs. Because she’s hurting him. She’s been hurting him and he can’t put up with it anymore. She’s not worth it.
She books her flight for that night. Not wanting to prolong their inevitable goodbye. She watches as he closes the door to his apartment. The last time she’ll be here. They hold hands on the way down to his car and then as he drives her to the airport where he kisses her for the last time. Kisses her goodbye. And she gets on the plane and cries all the way home. The flight attendant keeps bringing her water and the people around her are whispering. She closes the curtains around her pod. Her eyes focus on the sides of the window as the frost builds like little spider webs reaching out to her.
She loves him. She loves him. She can’t believe this.
+++
She gets to her house. Penny next to her. She sets her stuff down next to the door and collapses into a pile of skin, bone, and numbness. Her heart missing. Her heart was somewhere back in Spain with the boy he dragged her out of her isolation and brought her back to life. How could she ever be okay again?
She doesn’t leave her house or her bed until the day she has to be on a flight to Boston. She has about 100 missed calls and a billion unopened text messages. She doesn’t care to talk to anyone. Doesn’t want to explain the breakup. 
+++
She can feel herself isolating. To the way, things were before him. She’s in a room full of people and she feels the most alone she’s ever been. She waves everyone off, not giving them a second glance. She marches on stage, she plays the show with a missing heart. Pretending she’s okay. The band sees right through her, the fans don’t know better. 
Everyone is worried about her. Ash forces her to come out with the band and crew. She’s probably scared she’ll overdose if she’s on her own. All the telltale signs of how she used to be. They’re keeping an eye on her. 
She doesn’t feel like she’s in her body, she’s floating through life right now. She walks out onto the balcony, needing fresh air. 
Everyone’s dancing as she sits on the balcony and stares at the night sky. The wind makes goose bumps rise on her skin. She feels another tear try and escape her eye. She blinks it away before it can. She’s so tired of crying all the time. 
“Hey, you.” Topper steps out into the crisp air. 
“Hey,” she whispers, trying to cover that she’s been crying. 
“You okay?”
“No.”
“It’ll be okay. Sometimes love just doesn’t last. It happens and it’ll pass.”
“We didn’t break up because we didn’t love each other. If the distance didn’t exist I would still be with him. I would choose him over and over again but I was hurting him and in turn, I was hurting myself and neither of us expected or would accept the other quitting their dream jobs to move. So we’re done and it fucking hurts, Top. I saw forever with him. I haven’t felt that way about anyone ever. Part of me thinks that one day, when we’re both settled and not chasing the next best thing, we’ll be together.” She’s choking up, tears spilling over.
“Come here,” he opens his arms to her and she falls into them, “I’m here for you.” she looks over his shoulder to where Rafe is with their friends. 
“For now I just want to drink and cry and sleep for three weeks. I want the pain to stop. I don’t want to feel.” She pulls back from Topper, grabbing his arm and dragging him back inside. 
She would forget. At least for tonight.
+++
Her head pounds in the morning. She would blame all the crying she’s been doing but it’s mostly the alcohol. Cleo would kill her if she knew how much she was drinking again. She opens her eyes and looks around the half-lit room, the morning sun peeking through the curtains. The curtains are on the wrong side of the room. She looks around some more and notices clothes thrown on the floor. Men’s clothes. This isn’t her room. 
She remembers bits of the night before, kissing and touching in the elevator ride, the fight to find his room key, looking into his blue eyes and forgetting the name of the man with the brown eyes. At least for a moment. She blinks as if that would stop the headache.  
“Shit.” She hears from beside her. She slowly turns her head until her eyes meet the blue eyes staring back at her. 
“Top.”
“Fuck.”
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The days Zoe loved Marinette
In "Adoration", Zoe reveals to Marinette she had been secretly in love with her since the day they met. Marinette might have felt surprised to learn that she was the ninth grader Zoe was in love with all along, but it wasn’t long before Marinette's moment of surprise quickly turned to realization as she thought back to the time they shared together and realized it was obvious from the start that Zoe was in love with her, it’s just that no one thought to take notice.
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Aside from Andre, no one else knew Zoe was in love with Marinette, but looking back, a lot of things that happened around Zoe in past episodes, make a lot more sense now.
Zoe met Marinette the day she arrived to Paris in "Sole Crusher," and at the time, no one knew who she was, making it all the more pleasant for Zoe as it was a brief window of opportunity to show her real personality, before having to hide it to fit the standards of the Bourgeois. Meeting Marinette was a complete contrast to what Zoe normally experienced, but was overall a moment Zoe felt she could genuinely just talk to someone without fearing the consequences that would come from allowing herself to be vulnerable enough to act more like herself.
Obviously Chloe did not hesitate to judge Zoe the moment they met, even threatening to send her back to New York if she didn't fit the family standards, while Audrey in turn saw nothing wrong in Chloe's methods and was more than willing to agree with Chloe for the same reasons. But with Marinette, everything was different. Marinette didn't judge Zoe, she looked at her with honest eyes and noticed she had her unique qualities, but also her share of struggles, all things Chloe and Audrey were quick to reject and ignore, from the unique shoes on her feet, to the way she hinted about her life in New York being anything but happy. Marinette listened to Zoe, she wanted to understand her, and despite not knowing much about her, there she was ready and willing to not only gift Zoe pastries as a way of welcoming her to Paris, but to also ensure the two of them would keep in touch by exchanging numbers.
Marinette gave Zoe her number on a box of macaroons, but it was her heart felt attempts to keep Zoe's number as close to her as possible, on the palm of her hand, that truly made Zoe realize Marinette was a kind and considerate person who wanted to befriend her, rather than expect her to be a certain way in order to obtain that friendship. But in actuality, this little moment always had more to it than the start of a friendship, it was the start of something more. Not long after Zoe wrote her phone number on Marinette's palm, Zoe BLUSHES, hinting she was not only falling for Marinette the moment they met, but that this new love she felt would grow the more Marinette reached out to her and saw through her attempts to fit in with her family, understanding there was something holding het back from being who she truly wanted to be.
(In "Sole Crusher", Zoe blushed at Marinette, revealing the beginning of her love towards Marinette.)
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(In Sole Crusher, after Zoe arrived at the Collège Françoise Dupont and felt compelled to insult Marinette to please Chloe, it was Marinette, the one girl who actually got to know her, who understood something was wrong and who was unwilling to push her away without hearing her out.)
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 Although Zoe believed she had no other choice but to accept the same fate Andre had, as he too accepted long ago that he would need to abandon his dreams and much of who he was so he could shape himself to fit the standards of the Bourgeois family, it was Marinette who once again tried to reach out to her and told her what she was too afraid to tell herself, that no matter the consequences she feared, she always had a choice to just be herself.
After Zoe was akumatized into Sole Crusher, Shadowmoth pointed out that Zoe was weakening the more she listened to Marinette's words, and of course she did, this one girl(Marinette) whom she had fallen in love with, knew exactly how she was feeling, how frustrated she was to have to hide herself from others and constantly put on a show to pretend her life was fine. And of course Marinette understood how Zoe felt as well as the life Zoe was living, because she too was living that very struggle everyday of her life as Ladybug, and had already known all too well what it was like to have to live a life where she was controlled and judged by Chloe, who expected her to fit the role she had made for her.
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(Back in "Heart Hunter", Marinette opened up about her frustrations, one of which was being unable to just be herself, of always having to pretend she was fine for fear of the consequences.)
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 Marinette didn't want Zoe to live with the same lonely struggle she had, to constantly hide from others, which is why she was so determined to reach Zoe/Sole Crusher and tell her she didn't have to hide her true self while in Paris.
Marinette did say there would always be someone there to help Zoe up when she is down, if she took that chance to open up to people who actually cared about others, and at the very least, Zoe could place her faith in knowing that someone like Marinette, who never gave up on trying to reach out to her, really would always be there for her, and she was, from the very moment they met.
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At the end of "Sole Crusher'', when Zoe shared the macaroons Marinette gifted her with everyone at Anarka's boat, who welcomed her with open arms, there was a subtle moment where Zoe's eye's remained focused on Marinette, that look was not just out of friendship, it was out of love for the girl who gave her the life she never thought she could have.
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We even see Nino pointing to a rainbow on the title screen as Zoe happily stood beside him, a hint that Zoe was LGBTQ+. Zoe loved Marinette the day they met, but there was just one problem, it was entirely one sided as Marinette was already in love with Adrien.
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Back in "Transmission", when Zoe found out that Marinette was struggling with her love life, she did not hesitate to reach out to her to help. Of course, the situation surrounding Marinette and Adrien's love life was no easy matter to sort through and understand on account of their secret lives as heroes, but out of everyone in their social circle, it was Zoe who said she knew perfectly well just how complicated love can be. She knew because she was secretly facing a complicated love of her own, towards Marinette, that entire time.
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And sure, Zoe still had her issues with her family to sort through, but it was precisely her love for Marinette that eventually helped her find the courage she always had to stand up to all of them, and learn to not let their threats continue to control her.
To be the one whom her family mistreated was one thing, but to watch her family mistreat the girl she loved was not something she could bare to stand and watch, which is why in "Deflagration", Zoe took any fear and doubt she had over facing Chloe, and threw it straight out the window, refusing to stand by any longer as Chloe attempted to humiliate Marinette during her special lunch with Adrien. Chloe's threats might have proven effective in the past to make Zoe grovel for forgiveness, but in that moment, Zoe could care less, she’d rather get sent back to New York than have to stand by and watch the girl she loved cry.
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(In Transmission", Zoe found the courage to stand up to Chloe for Marinette's sake, and even though she quickly realized she may have to face severe consequences for it later, to see Marinette smile happily at her, thanking her for what she did, made it feel it was all worth while if it meant she helped the girl she loved.)
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As tough as it must have been watching Marinette fall head over heels for Adrien, even helping in any plans to help her get closer to him, the one thing Zoe had that likely eased her heartache, was knowing that Marinette was still part of her life and had found happiness with someone who loved her just as much as she did.
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In "Adoration", Zoe saw picture after picture of Adrien that Marinette owned, she saw Marinette's constant flustering and embarrassment towards him, her little sketches, her writings and talks about what their future together would be like, Zoe watched it all, and even though she knew every action and every word that came out of Marinette was for someone else, Zoe never reacted negatively towards it, instead, she smiled, smiled at how all those things made Marinette happy and larger than life. At the end of "Adoration", Zoe said she felt there was no point in telling Marinette she loved her if she was already in love with someone else, that doing so would only change, or even ruin, things between them, but thankfully, Marinette thought otherwise
In many ways, Marinette knew the kind of heartache Zoe felt, because she faced the same thing in the season 3 finale, when she tried to give up on telling Adrien she loved him and instead watched him drift towards Kagami, someone she thought Adrien loved and would love him just as much as she did in return.
Yeah, Marinette's situation with Adrien wound up working out as she realized he always loved her, but had she been in the same position Zoe was in, then she would have wanted to take the chance to tell the person she loved how she felt if they were willing to give her that chance, to finally have that weight lifted from her shoulders and allow her to move on with her life, and that is exactly what she gave Zoe, a chance in knowing the person she loved would be willing to listen to her confession.
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At the end of "Adoration", Marinette gave Zoe the chance to speak her feelings, and despite Zoe's fears over what could have changed between them as friends in the process, thankfully, nothing did. If anything, the only change that did occur between them, was added respect towards one another in knowing they had both grown as people. Marinette never made any elaborate plans when she thought Zoe was in love with Adrien, and Zoe never broke the boundaries of their friendship to try and make Marinette fall in love with her. The two of them never lost sight of each other and accepted they both needed to be considerate of one another and be clear on how they felt. Marinette couldn’t reciprocate Zoe’s feelings, but this didn’t change the fact that she still loved her just as much as any other good person in her life, she loved everything Zoe did to make her feel better and appreciated everything Zoe did to look out for her in her most dire of times, such as when Chloe blamed her for stealing. Instead of ignoring Zoe’s confession, Marinette chose to acknowledge Zoe's feelings, giving her a proper rejection.
(Despite not feeling romantically drawn to Zoe, Marinette was still flattered by someone as wonderful as Zoe would fall in love with her.)
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Zoe was always aware her love towards Marinette was entirely one sided, and even though she knew a romantic future with Marinette would never be possible, to know that Marinette valued her so much and thought so highly of her, meant more to her than anything, giving her the peace she never knew she wanted, and the confidence she needed to keep being that amazing girl Marinette said anyone would be honored to be loved by.
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valeskafics · 3 days
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"Fairytale" - Gale Cleven x Reader
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a/n: a request from my lovely @rougegenshin, i hope you enjoy this babe! this can be read as a standalone or better as a sequel to "over the rainbow" 🩷
Summary: Gale wastes no time making you his after he makes it home from war.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, tooth rotting fluff, christianity lol (they get married in a church), oral f receiving, oral m receiving, overstim, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie
Word Count: 1,580
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Masters of the Air characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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You’ve dreamed of a fairytale wedding for as long as you can remember. You just never thought you’d get it with the man you’ve loved since you were thirteen years old.
The press was all over it, calling it the wedding of the decade. The up and rising movie starlet marrying a certified war hero was truly an American dream come true. You and Gale were the talk of the town. Every time you attended a premiere, he was there on your arm, gazing at you with those sweet gentle eyes while you posed for the cameras. You would trace his scars with your fingertips, looking up at him with loving eyes, and everyone absolutely loved it.
Was it a bit of a scandal that the two of you moved in together before getting married? Sure. But everyone was willing to brush it off. After all, you were paralyzed with fear when you thought you’d lost Gale. You couldn’t eat, think, drink, or sleep. Your thoughts were consumed by him, imagining the worst possible scenarios. And yet? Somehow? He kept his promise.
He came back to you.
You still remember that first reunion after he got back to the US. The way you ran into his arms, his embrace tight around you, holding each other as if you never wanted to let go. Gale’s tears soaked your hair, yours soaked his shirt, lips meeting each other in a feverish, desperate kiss. You’d almost lost each other. You’d come so close to never seeing each other again. Never feeling each other’s kiss, each other’s touch, each other’s love…
Gale proposed almost immediately. He sank down on one knee right there on that airstrip, declaring he’d find you a ring as soon as possible but that he needed to know here and now that you would spend the rest of your life with him. How could you say anything but yes? You giggled as he took you into his arms, twirling you around, the sound of his brothers in arms laughter echoing in your ears. Meatball bounded up to you next, practically attacking you by slobbering all over your face, clearly having missed you just as much as Gale did.
Bucky and Croz, all of them came to embrace you, congratulating you and Gale, asking when the wedding would be.
Of course every single one of them is invited. Gale stands with his best friend in the back of the St. Vincent De Paul Catholic Church. After all, you’re a Hollywood girl now. His hands tremble as Bucky does his best to calm him.
“What if I let her down?” Gale mumbles, “What if I’m not a good husband to her? A good dad to our kids? I just…”
Bucky rests his hands on Gale’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring smile, “Breathe, Buck. Just breathe. Now tell me something. Do you love her?” Gale nods emphatically, “Okay. How much?”
Gale lets out a breathless laugh, “How much do I love her? That’s like asking me to count how many drops of water there are in the ocean, Bucky. I can’t. I love her so much that it’s a physical pain in my chest at times. I see her and nothing else matters. Everything else fades away. The war. Our time in that camp. Everything. All I can see is her and that sweet, sweet smile.”
Bucky nods at his best friend, “That should answer your question. No one will ever be able to love her the way you do. No one will ever be able to make her happy the way you do. Now, quit being a big old baby and get out there and marry that girl before I grab the rings and do it myself.”
You’re a vision of beauty and grace as you glide down the aisle toward him, that white dress making you look like an angel, the veil covering your pretty face from his view. Gale’s lips part slightly as he murmurs out a “wow” under his breath, feeling Bucky smack his shoulder, muttering what a lucky sonofabitch he is. And God, does Gale know it. His heart pounds against his ribcage with every step you take toward him, the pink shade of your lipstick visible from beneath the veil, as well as your radiant smile.
Meatball trods up, serving as your ring bearer, immediately attacking the both of you with licks to your hands, demanding to be petted. You ignore the priest’s protests as you bend down on your knees, no doubt dirtying the dress, and give him a snuggle, as does Gale, the two of you beaming at each other. And as Gale lifts the veil over your head, you take his breath away once again. You are everything he’s ever dreamed of, his every hope and wish come true as you say your vows to each other. He slides the ring onto your finger, admiring how beautiful it looks, the way it shimmers in the candlelight.
The way the candlelight reflects in your soft eyes as you gaze up at him so lovingly. And you say those words, and so does he.
“I do.”
“I do.”
The reception passes by in a blur, celebrities and family and friends alike all coming to give their congratulations, Gale watching as you spin around in your highest heels as you dance with your father, then with Bucky, looking like a princess. Bucky and Croz, of course, attempt to embarrass him with their toasts along with the rest of the boys - earning a bout of laughter from your lips that his heart racing, and Meatball gets into the wedding cake, completely ruining it beyond repair.
But neither of you would change a thing. It’s the most perfect of days, the day all of your dreams come true.
And the wedding night is no different. Gale’s fingers tremble slightly as he moves to undo your wedding gown, swallowing thickly as he watches it fall to the floor. You step out of it, wearing only your high heels, brassiere, and stockings, gazing up at him. You help him out of his jacket, his tie, then his shirt. Gale pulls you into a soft kiss, one that feels like the first time despite having kissed you nearly a hundred times before tonight.
But this kiss is so very different. It’s the start of a new chapter for the two of you. He lays you down on the bed, gingerly removing your shoes and placing them to the side, pressing a kiss to each of your ankles before he lets his pants fall to the floor, leaving him fully bare. You admire your husband, biting your lip as he crawls up over you, his hands tracing every bit of exposed flesh he can touch.
“I love you, Mrs. Cleven,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck, moving to nibble softly at your collarbone, “I’m gonna make you the happiest woman alive. I promise you that.”
“I know you will, Mr. Cleven,” you tease, running a hand through his hair.
Gale worships your body with his hands, his tongue, any which way he can. He tastes you for what feels like hours, mouthing at your slick folds until your body squirms away, desperate for reprieve. And even then, he continues, holding your thighs apart, eagerly lapping at you, wanting nothing more than to drown himself in your essence, in your taste. You’ve never felt pleasure like this, and even more shocking is when he spills himself simply by tasting you and rutting against the bed ever so slightly. The two of you share a laugh as you move to rid yourself of your brassiere, letting it fall to the ground alongside the rest of your discarded clothing.
His cock is already beginning to harden again as you begin cupping his balls, massaging them gently before mouthing at his tip. Gale’s teeth sink into his lower lip as he watches you work him to full hardness before you finally sink down on him, your wet, warm core enveloping him completely. Gale has never felt so complete as he does when he’s inside of you. He sits up, pulling you into yet another kiss, his hands cupping your breasts as you begin to roll your hips against his, bouncing up and down on him ever so slightly, moaning into his ear how good he feels inside you.
“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he grunts, his breath hot against your jaw as he kisses you, “You gonna let me fill you up, darlin’? Let me make you a mama?”
You nod eagerly, your breath coming out in soft pants as you plead, “Yes, Gale, please… Wanna start a family with you. Want everything with you.”
He flips the two of you over, pushing your knees up to your chest and begins pounding into you even deeper than before, his hair falling into his eyes as he looks into your own, the moment so glaringly intimate it’s almost painful. It’s almost hard to look, but you’re held hostage in his gaze. He kisses you again, feeling you reach your peak around him as he spills himself inside you moments later.
The two of you lay there side by side, trying to catch your breath. Gale reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and smiles at you, “You’re my rainbow.”
“And you’re mine,” you beam back at your husband, pulling him into another kiss.
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scribbledghost · 1 day
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Oh gosh, angsty idea I just need to ask... how do you Simon reacts to civilian!reader being captured?? And how do you think Simon reacts when reuniting with reader after rescuing them (b/c my brain won't accept any other ending than Simon and reader reuniting.) BTW, my brain didn't really have a particular version of Simon in mind while writing this... so you can picture fem!Simon, neighbor!Simon, etc. while responding :))))
It's been a minute since we've checked in on Neighbor!Simon, so let's do that, hm?
His first call is to Price when he finds your front door ajar and your house in disarray. He knows calling the cops would be next to useless, especially since it doesn't take a genius to piece together the kidnappers' motive - to get under Simon's skin, and lead him to them.
It takes all his resources to find you, including Price and Laswell pulling strings on his behalf. The 141 take on your rescue mission personally, though they're very much alone here. There is no backup, the military wasn't going to expend such resources rescuing a single average civilian.
Simon turns into a machine. He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. He only focuses on finding you and using whatever scraps of breadcrumbs he can in order to do so. He gets testy with the team. Any bit of lightheartedness from Soap or Gaz quickly gets crushed under Simon's heel. No time for jokes, not when you're out there somewhere, being put through god knows what.
His mind often wanders to Mexico. To Roba. Simon Riley is not a praying man, but he bends his own rule just this once. Not only to beg for your safe return, but to also plead that wherever you are (and whoever has you) is kinder to you than Roba was to him.
When they track you down, Simon is quick to start barking orders. Normally, Price would put him in his place, but he allows Simon to take the lead on this one. Simon has come too far to not be the one that rescues you. He makes quick work of whatever misguided group thought they could stand up to him; he leaves behind a trail of bodies with no remorse, and personally carries you out of the building and to a waiting helo.
Truthfully, I see him being completely devastated by guilt. Whoever took you did it to get back at him, and they found you by finding him. In his mind, it's the same scenario with his family all over again - someone he loves got hurt, and though he wasn't directly to blame, he can't deny that you would have been safe if he hadn't come into your life.
You wake up in a hospital bed some time later to see Simon sitting at your bedside, leg bouncing and arms crossed as he stares into space.
He all but freezes when you softly call for him, head snapping to you as he launches towards you. At first, he doesn't speak. The only thing he says is a soft "I'm so sorry" as he gently touches your cheek. He's a steady presence in the following days, making sure you're well taken care of, helping you when you start to get up and moving again.
Honestly, I think he might wrestle with himself a little bit here. Part of him wants to vanish; to leave you, move away, and break all ties with you in an effort to keep you safe. Sure, he'd spend the rest of his life thinking of you and yearning to have you back, but at least without any connection to him, you'd be free of the risk of this happening again.
And part of him wants the opposite. He wants you close, wants to keep an eye on you, wants to never leave your side. The risk would still be there, but he knows he'd be able to protect you better and he knows he'd be better-equipped to find you if anything were to happen.
In the end, he settles for the latter. And maybe he starts talking about condensing your two homes into one.
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c00kieguy · 2 days
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𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜 [Ch.3]
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relationships: Aventurine x GN!Reader summary: Despite his fears and worries, Aventurine finally tells you about his past. Read more here cw: 2.1 quest SPOILERS, fluff, comfort, a bit of humor. a/n: not proofread unfortunately [The series is done!] Good luck on your Aventurine pulls! wc: 1.5k Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (this one) masterlist
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Before long, the next day emerged. It was Sunday now and you only had today to spend with your beloved boyfriend before you were back to working your regular shifts. It seemed the dishes had other plans however, having forgotten to wash them yesterday you had no choice but to get at them today. 
Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend approaches you from behind. You feel his gentle touch as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on you, his soft breath tickling your back. You take comfort in his presence but pay him no mind as you continue doing the dishes.
“Can we talk?” He suddenly asks. His quiet tone concerns you so you immediately stop what you’re doing to face him.
“What’s wrong?” You gently cup his face in your hand in worry. The sudden question had you run a million worst case scenarios in your head already.
“Nothing, don’t worry.” He places his hands over yours and gives you a careful smile. “I just have a few things to share, if you have the time?” 
You don’t even hesitate before dropping everything to accompany him to your room. Lying down on your shared bed you face each other. Kakavasha has his head on your chest while you rest yours on his hair. Normally your presence alone would be enough to calm his nerves, but today it had the opposite effect on him. 
Eventually you hear a quiet voice come from under you. “I…used to work for the IPC…” The IPC?
“Is that all?” You laugh a little. “Well, surprise! Me too.” Was this all? What a simple matter.
“You did?” He’s a little taken back at your confession and looks up at you for an explanation.
“It was just contract work, so not exactly working with them, but it’s basically the same isn’t it?” You say with a laugh. “Was this your big secret? That’s all?” He goes quiet at this. Here you were giving him your full attention and he couldn’t even muster up enough courage to spill the truth. He half wanted to just go along with it and live out his life with you in peace. ‘Yep that’s it haha’ and he could go on pretending like the former part of his life didn’t exist, but that would be unfair to you. More importantly, it would be unfair to his loved ones. 
He wanted you to know of his past, of his parents, his sister. He wanted to share with you the joyful and sorrowful parts of his past. He wanted you to know everything about him, but that’s the thing about being honest, he had to talk about it. Oh how he wished he could just airdrop his memories into your brain, maybe if he didn’t have to verbally state it, it won’t hurt as much.
You keep your eyes trained on him, waiting for him to continue, not rushing him. Your boyfriend simply tucks his head back under your chin, unable to look at you anymore. His ever growing anxiety makes him want to bury himself alive. There’s a long pause before he speaks again.
“Aventurine…” It’s soft, so soft you almost miss it. “That’s what I used to go by.” His voice slightly cracks at the end and he hopes you don’t notice.
“The stoneheart?” You can’t help your accusing tone. He couldn't be one of them…right? You’ve always been vocal about your dislike for the IPC, so to think your boyfriend was once an integral part of them left a pit in your stomach. Is this why he was so hesitant to share his past with you? Did he think you’d hate him?
“I’m sorry…” His voice only comes off as a whisper. He’s not sure if he wants to hold onto you tighter or if you’d prefer if he stops touching you altogether. Clenching his fist he really hopes it’s the former, he’ll allow himself that much hope at least.
“No, don’t apologize. I’m not mad at you, just a little shocked.” You quickly try to salvage the situation. To think the whole time you were the problem and not him, you couldn’t forgive yourself enough. “I should be apologizing. I’d never hate you, I could never do such a thing Kakavasha.” You allow yourself to rest your forehead on his, hoping he learns to trust you again, but he already does, he always did. “Should I call you Aventurine now?” He’s quick to shoot you down with a frantic look in his eyes.
“No, that was just a title. I…” He looks at you with such desperation in his eyes. “I love the way you say my name, so please, don’t ever stop using it.” Then that’s exactly what you’ll do.
Ah, wait. Amidst all your feelings you seemed to have brushed aside a crucial detail.
“What do you mean ‘used to’, you’re not a stoneheart anymore? What happened?” He sighs and looks away with an uninterested look. 
“I…left.” He says slowly. “I’ve fully repaid my debt to the IPC, so I just left.” He looks back at you, this time with a more certain look in his eyes. “I made sure they won’t have a reason to come find me again, and since they haven’t hunted me down yet, my plan must’ve worked.” He ends with a dry laugh. Anyone could tell he didn’t want to talk about it so you decide to change the topic to something a little more lighthearted.
“So, your friends. I’m guessing there’s more to them.” You found it cute how his face instantly lit up.
“Haha yea. The businesswoman I mentioned? She’s Topaz, a senior manager of the Strategic Investment Department.” It almost felt like he was bragging, 
“Another stoneheart…of course.” Your boyfriend misunderstands you and gives you a worried look so you immediately correct yourself. “Sorry it’s just. I thought you ran away from home, or maybe you were divorced with kids or something. Not…not this.” You say with an exaggerated sigh. You hope a small joke like this will lift the mood a little.
“Divorced with kids? Do I really look that old to you?” He laughs at your attempt at lightening the mood and you can’t help just join him. 
“I’m just…glad. That you feel comfortable enough sharing this with me.” You give him a warm smile. “I’m glad you trust me, Kakavasha.” You really did. You trusted him so wholly, and to have that trust given back to you felt wonderful. “Oh! What about the guy from Veritas Prime? I’m guessing he doesn’t actually go there?”
“Oh, he does. He’s not a student though, he’s a lecturer there.” He says nonchalantly. “Have you heard of Dr. Veritas Ratio?”
“Veritas Ratio? You’re friends with Veritas Ratio?!” You ask in exasperation. “I mean, who am I kidding, of course you are!” Being so high up in the IPC must give him unique privileges after all.
“You look a lot more shocked about this than Topaz haha. Why’s that?” He’s clearly amused by your reaction.
“I’ve always wanted to go there, but I could never pass the entrance exam.” You reply sheepishly. “The curriculum was way too packed and I realized I preferred something more down to earth anyway.” Reaching out for his face you gently tuck a strand of hair behind his ears. “And I’m happy I became a baker, after all, I wouldn't have met you otherwise.” Kakavasha gives you a small smile with his cheeks a slight tint of pink.
“So…any other strange friends you’re not telling me about?” He takes his time to think about it before replying.
“Well, there is one other. I’d like to think we’re friends but I’m not sure if she would agree.” He sounds melancholic at the thought. “She really helped a lot. There was a point in my life where…everything seemed meaningless. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.” It must have been rough, being all alone, but you were glad there was at least someone there for him. “She was there to help me, a little. Something about an Emanator of Nihility telling you that there’s meaning to life is really encouraging I suppose.”
“AN EMENATOR??” You practically scream at him. 
“Yes, an Emenator.” How did he manage to get himself involved with an emenator? And not just any emenator, but one of Nihility?
“Incredible, your life is a million times more interesting than mine.” You say in defeat. He truly was amazing, and his circle of friends are as unique as one could get. Part of you felt a pang of jealousy, why couldn’t your life be even a fraction as interesting as his? You couldn’t help but want to know more. “How did you manage to escape? If you don’t mind telling me, I’m just a little curious.” 
“It’s a very long story.” He chuckles.
“I’m willing to listen.” You place a small kiss on his forehead. “If you’re willing to share.”
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Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (this one) masterlist
© c00kieguy ➼ do not repost/copy/translate (without my permission) or claim any of my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated ❣
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fxshigurosbae · 3 days
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based on author’s recent real life events :P
you know gojo satoru,
and he knows the way to touch and kiss you, so you’re drunk on his lips. you’ve used to hate each other, but ever since you’ve talked it out, and made out . . . he’s even inviting you to see him again. you two have that sexual energy together that not just anyone has.
he purposely takes you away from the hangout to make you whine and give his ego a little boost on a pitch dark staircase.
he’s pulling you by the wrist after resting his back against the wall, sliding down a little to fit you in between his legs and level up with your pretty face to devour you like the last time. yet, this time, it’s intimate and slow. gojo is taking his time exploring the taste of the watermelon energy drink mixed with your mint gum he likes to watch being smacked by your glossy mouth.
his grip onto your waist gives you butterflies, and soon enough, as he’s pressing his lips against yours and making it last a little longer, his hands sneak to grab the jean shorts and pull it upwards — making way for his teasing hands to smack your ass once or maybe twice, get a good grip on the dough as he groans “so fucking hot” against your ear after evilly breaking the kiss, just to pull you into him again, greedily — it’s hypocritical that you’re the one breathless when he’s the one to finally shut up, and even more once his hand is latched onto your small neck like it’s a jewelry, a perfect fit that makes you squirm and moan over nothing.
you blabber for him to pull you by the hair. gojo so eagerly makes your wish come true, smirking like usual. kissing your neck endlessly while taking ahold of your strands, rolling them around his fist, before pulling and gaining a whine back as a response of approval — he absolutely loves the way you sound, and the way your tinier hands tease by grabbing onto the hem of his pants and boxers desperately, he’s bumping his crotch against you just because of that. then, he’s holding you by the thigh and letting you sit over his muscular one to get you closer, to have more friction. all the while, gojo is dominating your mouth, and leaving a trail of countless deep and leisure smooches onto your sweet-scented neck.
he’s not listening and comprehending your little muttering under your breath before parting away. your eyes are dizzy as if his kiss alone was pure alcohol, making you so dumbfounded.
that’s exactly the reason why it’s not going to be the last time he will want to see you.
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A Blaze in the Dark - (11/13)
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Summary: On the eve of her wedding, knowing nothing about her husband besides his apparent disinterest in his soon-to-be wife, Elain uses a spell to meet her true love in her dreams.
Buckle up because this chapter gets spicy 🌶
Read on AO3 ・Series Masterlist・Previous Chapter
-
The ceramic vase shattering against the marble floor was a distant, far-away sound.
Elain found it reminiscent of submerging her head in a bathtub, the way she was enveloped in warmth while the details of the outside world became muted. Blurry. If she tried to focus away from the heat blooming on her skin, she could pick out an awareness of some things. Like the water spilling over the console table, seeping into her skirts and dripping over the edge, where it collected into a puddle atop the fragments of the vase below.
Her damp skirts may have been of greater concern to her, where they not presently bunched over her hips, thrown across the table as haphazardly as the bouquet of scarlet geraniums that had once occupied the space she was sitting in.
She’d handpicked those flowers with Vassa yesterday morning. They still had plenty of life in them, and she would need to scold Lucien for acting with such haste in discarding them.
Another time. Currently, she—
“Lucien!”
The gasp was involuntary, as was the arch of her spine, her body taken over by some ravenous creature that demanded to be closer, to be touching him, especially when his teeth grazed over her collarbone.
“I told you what would happen if you misbehaved,” he said, flicking his eyes to her face only briefly, just long enough to let the authority of his words linger, pressing against her as firmly as his strong body.
“I have never—” she sucked in a sharp breath as his mouth closed over her breast. Her nipples hardened beneath his lashing tongue, sending ripples of heated pleasure coursing through her. “Never— ah, misbehaved… in my life.”
That used to be the case, at least. Her governess had always asserted that Elain was the most perfect of her sisters. And by that she’d meant the most quiet, the most restrained, the most obedient.
At this, Lucien lifted his head, releasing her from his torment however briefly. Elain couldn’t help but shiver at his expression, the dark hunger within it. She held herself still, like she was standing in the line of a predator’s gaze, as he drew his lips to her ear and said in a rich, low voice, “I thought you’d know better than to lie to me, sweet wife. If you’ve never misbehaved, then tell me what you’re doing at this very second?”
He paused, waiting for her to answer. The sound of her panting filled the silence, and she wondered how he was so perfectly composed. How she didn’t hear a sound from him, despite how his mouth hovered just beside her ear.
“I’m sitting atop a table,” she said, tugging pointedly at the arm he’d looped beneath her knee, keeping her spread open before him. “Because my husband—”
“There you go again,” he chided.
She cried out, knowing what was coming even before his teeth sunk into her neck as retribution, followed by the slow drag of his tongue to soothe away the hurt. She squirmed in his hold and he made a deep, rumbling sound in the back of his throat, something similar to laughter but lazier, more taunting.
“You can be so petulant when you want to be. Where’s my good girl?”
This was a side of her husband she hadn’t been anticipating. He’d been so sweet, so gentle the first time they’d made love that she hadn’t known there could be this other side of him. The Lucien who was firmer, more demanding, but underneath always, always, loving. And when he discovered how much she enjoyed his firmer touch, well…
Lucien’s hand—the one that wasn’t holding her leg captive—raised from where he had been stroking her inner thigh, his fingers perpetually creeping just close enough to where she wanted him, but never any further.
Now, they wrapped around her throat.
“Remind me what I told you, wife.”
His lips returned to her neck as he waited, covering her skin in small nips and licks that made it extraordinarily difficult to focus on his question. Particularly when he ground his hips forward, using his clothed erection to offer her the barest amount of friction. Only to retreat when Elain pushed forward, desperate to chase the small fraction of pleasure.
Ducked against her neck, she could feel his lips pull into a smile, insufferably pleased at every twitch and huff he elicited from her. Initially she tried to restrain them, if only so he couldn’t have the satisfaction, but all that seemed to achieve was making the game more interesting to Lucien.
And now, with his fingers tightening at her throat, she knew he was growing impatient.
“We have to be quiet,” she said, repeating his earlier instruction. There was a strange thrill in the sensation of her words straining against his palm. “Otherwise someone will come down this hall and catch us.”
Lucien hummed in approval. “And wouldn’t you be mortified if someone were to catch you like this? So indecent, so eager to let your husband fuck you over a table.” He clicked his tongue, but she knew he loved seeing her like this. Knew because of the stark affection in his voice as he added, “Then everyone would know that sweet Elain Vanserra isn’t as prim and proper as she pretends.”
The shaky breath that parted her lips was one of relief. She relished knowing she could be like this with him. Bold and reckless and willing to take what she wanted, even if that risked being seen for who she was.
“I’ll be good,” she said, tilting her head back to expose more of her throat to him. Pliant, but only because she wanted to be. Docile, but only because she was in full control of who she did and did not obey. “I’ll be quiet.”
As a reward, Lucien kissed her temple and murmured against her skin, sweet as melted sugar, “Good girl.”
Elain’s eyes fluttered shut. His praise lit something deep and warm inside her. It was more than a craving. It was an addiction.
He knew its effect on her, knew how to drip each dose of it to keep her wound and wanting, willing to do anything he asked just so she might hear him whisper it again. For now, he chucked and offered her one more sweet kiss against her brow before instructing, “Stay still for me.”
That was one direction that she was never very good at following. Even as a little girl, when her governess would make each of them stand with proper posture and recite poetry, she would always be reprimanded for fidgeting with her skirts. Feyre used to accuse their governess of creating rules with the purpose of setting them up for failure.
Now, Elain wondered if her husband was just as cruel.
His hand returned between her legs, broad fingers curving in until they brushed over the arousal coating her inner thigh. Elain took a deep breath, recalling how they’d ended up here.
I have a secret, she’d said, giggling and a little bit drunk on the wine they’d shared at dinner.
Oh? One that you might trust on your husband’s ears?
She’d stopped and pulled him down an unlit hall that she knew was scarcely used, even by servants. There wasn’t a single candle lit in this direction, and the thick drapes over most of the windows were drawn, meaning that they had to fumble their way through the darkness until Elain was satisfied that no one would find them. Lucien had been patient with her, humouring it all with his soft, bemused laughter. That was until she corralled him against the wall and whispered her condemning secret into his ear.
I’m not wearing anything under my skirts.
Then all of his charming humour faded, like paint scraped from a portrait. And Elain had barely any time to prepare herself before her husband had erupted on her in a fervor of kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes that had amounted to this—
To Lucien swearing under his breath, continuing his exploration until his fingers finally, finally, sought the small bump at the apex of her thighs. He circled his thumb lazily around her clit, still not touching it as he smirked at the wetness he found, at how easily his fingers slid against her.
She whimpered, and that small noise was enough for him to withdraw. Her frustration was beginning to take on a sharper edge, the ache more persistent. More consuming. He’d been teasing her like this for what felt like hours.
“Please.”
Lucien cooed with false sympathy. “Poor thing. I’ve given you so many chances. Now you’ll have to earn it.”
“How?”
“Open your mouth.”
Familiarity tugged at the corner of her memory, but like the shattered vase and the trampled flowers, it was a far-away detail. There was only Lucien, his teasing touch and heated voice, which made her feel as though she’d swallowed something warm. That she was melting from the inside out.
“Yes, Your Highness,” she said, overwrought and breathless and still daring to be bold with him.
She parted her lips, holding her mouth open. She didn’t realize she was expecting his arousal-coated fingers until he leaned over and spit onto her waiting tongue.
It took her a moment to process what he’d just done. In the dim light, his eyes were the only bright thing, like the smouldering pits of a bottomless forge, glowing molten gold and copper. Elain’s heart was hammering, keeping herself perfectly still beneath his appraisal. Her mouth was still open, still presenting his spit to the open air, not quite certain what would please him.
“Hold that on your tongue until I tell you to swallow.”
She couldn’t answer him, not without disobeying his order. So she nodded instead, keeping her tongue cradled in position, trying to ignore the saliva already welling in the back of her mouth.
Meanwhile, Lucien unlaced himself from his trousers. At this point in their marriage, Elain might very well have seen her husband naked more often than she’d seen him clothed. She would have thought that their weeks of rabid love-making would have cured some of the shock of seeing him undressed. Yet, as her eyes welcomed his impressive length for the second time that day, she was immediately seized with a sharp, aching need to feel him inside her again.
Lucien closed a fist around his cock, offering her a slow, leisurely pump that was all for show. Her attention narrowed to the arousal beading at the tip of his flushed head, and there was something about staring at his cock while holding her tongue on display that made her long to taste it.
Maybe he could see the filthy imaginings behind her eyes, because Lucien looked at her and smirked. “You’re going to be good for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Going to do what I say?”
He notched himself at her entrance without waiting for a response.
She tried to restrain herself. She did. But as he pushed in, stretching her so full, she couldn’t help the small whimper that built in the back of her throat. Her head started to fall back, her eyes fluttering shut, when Lucien caught her at the chin, pulling her gaze to meet his as he thrust the rest of the way in, forcing their hips flush.
This time, there was an ounce of derision as he asked her, “You’re not going to swallow are you, Elain?”
She shook her head, panting through her nose. Drool was collecting beneath her tongue and she could feel Lucien throbbing inside her. Not moving, not giving her the friction she was desperate for.
“Show me.”
Elain stuck out her tongue, tilting her head back to prevent excess saliva from spilling over her lips. Lucien brushed his thumb to wipe away the small amount that trickled out of the corner of her mouth.
“Look at you,” he praised. “Desperate and drooling for me. You can be such a good girl when you want to be.”
He withdrew slightly, and she could feel him drag against every sensitive nerve. She anchored her nails into his shoulders, but nothing prepared her for his next thrust and the way she practically choked to keep herself from gasping, from swallowing.
Lucien grunted, “Fuck, Elain.”
There it was. The first crack in Lucien’s facade. It was only a matter of time before her husband became equally as desperate, as undone, as she was. One of her hands slipped into his hair, knowing precisely how to expedite his unravelling.
Weaving his scarlet hair between her fingers, Elain tugged with a measure of aggression equal to his own. He let out a startled noise before snapping his hips forward in response.
“My wife wants to play rough?” He asked, driving his hips forward harder, faster. The console table was beginning to wobble beneath the momentum, knocking into the wall in what would be a rather transparent announcement of what this corridor was being used for if anyone were to walk within earshot.
Elain was beyond caring, as was Lucien, who pulled her leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts so that his cock pierced impossibly further, demanding space in her body she wasn’t certain existed.
She screamed, thought it was gurgled by saliva, and she worried if she didn’t swallow she might very well choke. Lucien grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her neck back as he demanded again, “Open.”
She obeyed, allowing her husband to spit in her mouth a second time, the act punctuated by his brutal thrusts and his bruising grip.
“Swallow,” he said, taking mercy.
The reprieve was short lived, because the minute she opened her lips to suck in a greedy breath, Lucien’s was there, tongue pushing past her teeth to claim her mouth. He had her practically folded in half, perfectly moulded to take every inch of him. Flushed and drooling and covered in love bites, there wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t marked as his.
But it was just as well, when his unkempt clothes and tousled hair and damp skin marked him as hers. The Prince and the rake and the gentle, tender husband all uniquely combined into this man who was unleashing his full self upon her, giving her everything she wanted, everything she craved.
Her whines, smothered by his mouth, rose into a fever pitch, and that was when his fingers in her hair loosened, then fell away altogether. Their lips parted, a string of saliva still connecting them, as he murmured so sweetly to her, “Come for me, Elain. My beautiful wife.”
At last, his fingers returned between her legs, rubbing at that spot she’d been desperate for from the very start. Her head fell back against the wall and he chased her, laying kisses anywhere he could find as he babbled a string of sweet, gooey nonsense. I know. I know, honey. You’re doing so well. Taking me so well. You’re so beautiful.
My love.
My Elain.
My wife.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
It always ended this way, no matter how roughly they fucked. Whenever the rhythm of his hips fractured and light burst behind her eyes, it was always to a string of I love yous. She murmured it back, between her gasping and shuddering, until his hips slowed and stopped entirely.
And then they were folded atop the console table in the corridor of their palace, mostly undressed, and kissing each other like there wasn’t a single thing else that mattered in the world.
Her head was spinning when Lucien, with what seemed a great deal of reluctance, finally pulled away. They were both panting, still gripping onto each other as they anchored back into reality. The awareness that a world existed outside of her husband came back in slow, trickling pieces.
The first thing she noticed was Lucien’s dishevelled hair. He’d worn it so nicely at dinner, with pieces braided back from his face and tied in a knot, the rest spilling over his shoulders like red ink. Now those braids were torn loose, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to smooth some of them back into place.
It was as she reached for him that she noticed candlelight gleaming off the scarlet strands—a startling revelation, when before, the corridor had been smothered in darkness. Elain’s eyes flickered to the far wall, trailing from one golden sconce to the next. She marked with awe that they were all lit. Every single candle, spitting and flickering light down the entire stretch of the hall.
She giggled at the revelation, drawing her attention to the likely culprit.
“What can I say?” Lucien offered her a roguish grin as he tucked himself back into his trousers. “My love for you is a burning flame.”
It wasn’t the first time it happened, though it’d never occurred at such a large scale. Lucien tilted his head down the length of the corridor, assessing his handiwork with what she could only amount to pride.
Elain couldn’t hide her own smile. She happened to enjoy the phenomenon—so much, in fact, that she kept a candle at their bedside that she’d barred anyone from lighting through conventional means. Her goal was to see the entire stick of wax melted by her birthday.
Her joy at the display of candlelight was fleeting, however, once she caught sight of the mess it illuminated. Beneath the table, the vase they’d knocked over was completely shattered and had sent pieces of painted pottery flying in all directions over the marble floor. She hoped the vase hadn’t been expensive and further, that it’d held no sentimental value.
Even so, most of her grief was directed towards the limp geraniums, whose once vivid petals were now crushed and wilted.
She couldn’t keep the despair from her voice. “We ruined the flowers.”
Lucien spared a glance toward the collateral of their love-making and frowned. He took her hand, raising it to his lips in apology. “I’ll set off tomorrow and get you a new bouquet,” he promised. “What’s your favourite flower?”
It was such an innocent, off-handed question.
At first, Elain’s lips curled into a smile, prepared to tease him for not remembering, before she recalled with shackling clarity that Lucien hadn’t been the last person to ask her that question. It had been her True Love, in a dream that felt like centuries ago.
In my leisure, I like to plant flowers.
Do you have a favourite?
Sweet alyssum.
Lucien, oblivious to the riptide of memory tugging her under, began the patient task of fixing her dress into a somewhat decent state.
“Is it another secret?” he teased.
The recollection was disorienting. Some part of her mind insisted on inserting her husband in the memory, when she knew it’d been someone different. She could picture his smug lips, inches from her ear and whispering so softly, And why’s that one your favourite? She could see the flash of scarlet hair, though there’d been no light. No features at all to distinguish one gentleman of her heart from another.
“I have many favourite flowers,” she said, fighting against the confusing images. She didn’t want to be remembering the dream at all; she wanted to cast her True Love and all thoughts about him permanently in the past. “It depends on which quality I’m using to assess them.”
Lucien smiled as if endeared by her answer. “What are the qualities?” He asked, pressing at her shoulder to urge her to swivel on the table, just enough so he might slip her dress back up her torso and begin lacing it.
“If I were to choose a flower for its appearance, it would be gaillardia.”
“Why’s that?”
“They remind me of you,” she said, growing shy at the admission. “Red and copper and gold. They’re one of the most vibrant flowers I’ve ever seen.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “And what about before you met me?”
“Even then.”
Elain marvelled a bit at that. As if subconsciously, she’d always felt some sort of draw to him, even before she’d known his name or his face or the colour of his eyes. That admission must have warmed him, because he paused his task to drop his head and press a lingering kiss to her shoulder.
“And your other favourites?”
“Sunflowers,” she hummed, “because they’re easy to grow, in addition to being beautiful.”
Lucien used his nose to trace the path of her shoulder, gliding up and along the crook of her neck, where he nuzzled himself closer and mused, “A bright, beautiful thing that thrives in adverse conditions? That sounds like you, sweet wife.”
A warm, wonderful feeling bubbled inside her. She leaned into his touch, wondering if this was what complete and utter happiness felt like.
“Are there any others?” He asked, offering one last, departing kiss so that he could return to his task.
“Just one,” she said, feeling less wary about it. She could reclaim the flower, make it something special to them. “Sweet alyssum. I like it for its meaning, worth beyond beauty.”
Lucien halted, the ties of her dress still lifted in his hands. “Is… is that a common flower in Carterhaugh?”
“I suppose,” she said, having never considered its abundance. “It used to grow very generously on the grounds of our manor. I used to collect the blossoms and dry them for tea. Allegedly, it’s meant to have soothing properties, though it never seemed to have much effect on my sisters’ tempers.”
He wasn’t saying anything. She waited for his response, allowing the silence to stretch beyond considerate thought, until the icy hands of anxiety began to stake their grip. Had she said something wrong? Elain glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her, not moving an inch.
It was an effort to keep her apprehension from showing. “Is everything alright?”
Lucien shook his head as if he could physically dispel his thoughts. “Everything’s fine,” he said, though his eyes were still wide. “You reminded me of a story I’d once heard before, that’s all.”
“Oh?” She tried to turn further to face him, but he gently placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place, insistent on finishing. “Will you share it with me?”
“Another time,” he said, with an apologetic kiss along her spine. “I think right now, we should focus on making ourselves presentable and cleaning up this mess.”
His voice held a tightness that told her he was hiding something. That whatever he’d recalled had set him off balance. Curiosity burned at her. Enough that she almost pressed, prepared to accuse him of still keeping secrets. But she thought of his scars, recalling the weight of the memories that plagued him, and decided to hold her tongue.
She knew her husband loved her, and she trusted him enough to offer him the freedom to process his thoughts. He would reveal the truth to her in his own time. When he was ready for it.
-
Elain went to sleep that night in the large circular room in the corner tower of the East Wing. Lucien’s bedroom, or so it used to be. Now it was hers, too, and she cherished the intimacy of sharing a bedroom with her husband.
Whatever bothered Lucien had disappeared by the time they made it to their bedroom, and hadn’t prevented him from continuing his nightly tradition of laying her out on the bed, kissing his way down her stomach, and burying his face between her legs.
Beneath his slow tongue, her body became the strangest combination of weightless and heavy. Taught and loose. Lapping back and forth between the shores of pleasure and slumber until she settled somewhere in the middle, capable of only soft, contented sighs and drifting thoughts.
You’re so sweet like this, she heard him murmur to her, his voice just slightly louder than the fire popping and crackling in their hearth. My sweet Elain. My sweet wife.
My sweet soul.
That one couldn’t have been right. Must have been a figment of her dozing mind, blending reality with memory until she was delivered into the depths of a warm, caressing darkness.
When she next opened her eyes, she was startled to find that the space beside her was empty. Where she’d fallen asleep in the arms of her husband, she now sat up in her bed alone, his side vacant and cold, as if he’d never been there to begin with. Elain was prepared to light a candle and search for him when a voice drifted through the dark.
“Hello?”
Lucien? She thought. She nearly called to him, his name shaping her tongue before other oddities crept into her awareness.
The bed. The bedding wasn’t right. Lucien liked to sleep with the window open, inviting the biting autumn into their chamber, and when she’d complained about the cold, he compromised by piling their bed with fur-lined coverlets and thick blankets. They were nowhere to be found on this bed, nor were they necessary given the breeze circulating the room that was too light, too warm, to belong to the Eastern Kingdom.
She was not in the bed she’d fallen asleep in. She was not awake at all.
“Is that you?” Elain called. After all this time, she still didn’t have a name for him. “My True Love?”
A floorboard creaked beneath his weight.
“It’s me,” he said.
It was a relief, perhaps, that Lucien hadn’t abandoned her in the middle of the night. But one that was short-lived, given that she was alone with another man. In a dark, intimate space. Naked, just as she’d been when she’d fallen asleep in her husband’s arms. The room was completely dark, devoid even of moonlight, and still she scrambled for a sheet to cover herself.
It felt like a betrayal of Lucien to be here, but she wasn’t certain how to leave. This was the first time her True Love had been the one to summon her to their dreamland. She was wary of why he would choose to do so now, when they hadn’t communicated since the day they were to meet in Carterhaugh Gardens. Nesta’s note said he hadn’t shown up, and Elain was so preoccupied by her relationship with Lucien that she hadn’t properly considered why.
Why insist on meeting, why send her the coin to do so, if he wasn’t going to be there? Did he know that she hadn’t been there either? Given his absence, she’d assumed that they’d parted ways mutually, though she supposed there hadn’t been any proper closure. No heartfelt goodbyes, no explanations for what had gone wrong.
“You didn’t meet me in Carterhaugh,” he said. There was no accusation, only simple curiosity as he asked, “Why?”
His question surprised her. How would he know if he hadn’t been there either? It was a test, perhaps.
“I was there,” she protested, recalling Nesta’s letter. “I waited at the labyrinth’s center as long as I could. I did not see any man with a rose behind his ear.”
Her assertion was met with a moment of stunned silence.
Then he said, “Impossible. I was there from the moment the sun rose and a good while after it set.”
No. No, that wasn’t possible. Nesta would have seen him. Would have assessed every man in the center of the maze, and would have told her the truth if he’d been there. Wouldn’t she? Elain wasn’t certain who to believe. She’d never known her sister to lie, not about something like this.
“You must have had your head turned,” she rationalized. “And the flower escaped my notice.”
Had Nesta not looked properly? Had she gone at all? Elain couldn’t make sense of it, though she told herself that regardless, it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to know who her True Love was. She was happily, blissfully married.
“My mistake, then, to rely on your scrutiny. Were there too many men in the labyrinth’s center to pay each a thorough assessment?”
He couldn’t see it, but Elain crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care for your tone.”
“Answer me truthfully, then. Did you come to meet me that day in Carterhaugh?”
Elain didn’t see a reason to keep the truth from him. “I sent someone on my behalf. And they told me that no man suited your description.”
“I see.”
Without being able to gauge his expression, she couldn’t determine if he was angry with her. His voice revealed no emotion at all, though she imagined that she would be frustrated in his place. From his perspective, he believed that she was in a loveless marriage. That she was miserable and was too much of a coward to pursue their life together.
Though it was all built on a lie, she began to feel defensive. Of Lucien, of her life with him, of her reasons for staying. “It is easy for you to cast judgment when there was no risk for you. You demanded an impossible task—it would have been a two day journey to meet you, an absence my husband would certainly have noticed.”
“And tell me of your husband.”
“What of him?”
“I was going to help you flee him,” he reminded her. There was an edge to his voice. “I didn’t consider it an impossible task because I believed his notice of your absence would be inevitable once we ran away together. Unless you were planning to go back? Has your desire to escape your marriage changed?”
This was it. This was the moment to tell him, to end things between them for good. She swallowed back her guilt, knowing that any resulting heartbreak would be her burden to carry. She’d been the one to place the first butterfly under tongue, despite knowing that they would always end up here. Saying their goodbyes.
Her True Love deserved a happy ending, and she wished she could give that to him. But her heart belonged to Lucien. She suspected it always would.
“My husband is not the man I thought him to be,” she said. “He is good—kind.”
“There are plenty of good and kind men that do not treat their wives as well as they deserve.”
Even in her dreams, even from someone who did not know Lucien, she would not tolerate such accusations. “He treats me better than anyone I know.”
Her True Love paused, like he was inclined to argue, but instead asked, “Are you happy with him?”
Elain didn’t waver, didn’t hesitate for even a second.
“Yes.”
It was the honest, simple truth.
She was met with further silence as her True Love processed this answer, what it meant for him. For them.
“Then consider this our last meeting,” he said cordially. “I will not disrupt your marriage any further. I truly wish you happiness, lady.”
To his credit, he sounded sincere. And she thought he must be a very decent man. One who could perhaps learn to find happiness in his circumstances the same way she had.
“Wait,” she called to him.
He paused. Curious. “Yes?”
“Your wife… Do you think you could find happiness with her? I feel a kinship to her,” she admitted, pressing her hand to her chest. “I hope she can find happiness in her marriage as well.”
Her True Love laughed, and there was a warmth to it, an affection, that swelled her heart. “My wife is extraordinary. I promise I will endeavour to make her happy.”
That brought her more peace than she could have hoped for.
“Then perhaps we were not meant to find each other in this lifetime,” she said. “Perhaps the Mother willed our lives to walk in parallel. I hope we can each find fulfillment on our separate paths.”
There was an ounce of whimsy in his response, his tone a touch too knowing as he said, “Perhaps one day our paths will converge outside our dreams. I’ll be looking forward to it until then, my sweet soul.”
-
When Elain next opened her eyes, it was to one eye of russet and another of metal. Lucien was watching her sleep, a soft smile parting his lips. The kind that was rare to see from him. Not sarcastic or smug or self-satisfied, just… happy.
A low humming noise rumbled in his throat. “Good morning, wife.”
He leaned down to kiss her, slow and unhurried, like the steady creep of fog drifting just outside their open window. The air was fresh with dew, but too chilly to coax her from the warmth of her husband’s body and the pile of blankets.
He asked between a trail of kisses along her neck, “Did you have a nice dream?”
For a moment, she panicked. Did she tell him? Would he understand? The last thing Elain wanted was for her husband to lock himself in his study to try and track down her True Love. It was over. There was no need to plague his mind with it.
“I… I don’t remember it.” She said, shuffling closer to press her face into his chest, hoping to distract him from the lie by dragging her lips across his throat. “Did you? Have a nice dream?”
“I did.” His fingers lovingly traced the shape of her spine, and he was still wearing that beautiful, unrestrained smile. “I dreamt of you.”
If only Elain could have been so lucky.
“Couldn’t have been so nice, then,” she teased, nipping at his neck.
He made another of those rich, throaty noises that she only seemed capable of eliciting in the mornings.
“You’re mistaken. There is no dream lovelier. Though I doubt any could compare to this.”
“To what?”
Lucien placed both hands on her hips and heaved her up so that she was practically lying atop him. His eyes were so rich with affection she almost couldn’t stand to be the sole focus of it, could feel her face heating as though she were standing directly in the sun’s path.
“Waking up to the sight of you.”
He pushed one of her curls behind her ear, studying her face like he was memorizing every detail. Elain was beginning to suspect an ulterior motive.
“You’re being rather complimentary, husband.” She trailed her fingers suggestively over the planes of his chest. “Is there something you’re after?”
“A good many things, Elain.”
Lucien kissed her, and she could feel him harden against her stomach. It was a pattern she’d noticed before, and this time she couldn’t contain her curiosity. She retreated from their kiss in favour of pulling up the blankets to glance down their bodies, admiring the thick appendage that was already swelling to attention.
“Does it always do that in the morning?”
He chuckled. “It will do that so long as you are naked in bed with me.”
Elain continued to stare, feeling her mouth grow dry as she realized she had a great many curiosities when it came to her husband and his body. “That thing you do with your mouth,” she said, recalling the way he’d licked her just before they’d fallen asleep. “Does the equivalent feel nice for you?”
From the way his cock twitched in response to her question, she thought Lucien might have found the idea appealing. Even as he said, “It’s not necessary for child making.”
She glanced at him flatly. “That’s not what I asked.”
When he didn’t say anything further, Elain elected to take matters into her own hand. She shuffled down his body, reaching until her palm wrapped around his length.
“Fuck,” he bit out as she pumped her fist experimentally, the same way she’d seen him do it. “Yes, Elain. It feels nice for me, too.”
“Then show me—”
“You don’t have to.”
Elain ignored his protest and shuffled the rest of the way down his body, until she was crouched between his legs. “I want to be a good wife.”
“You are already a good wife.” His voice was becoming strained, particularly as she leaned over his cock and tentatively swiped her tongue over his head. “You’re—fuck. The best wife.”
“Then I don’t want you to ever forget it,” she crooned, repeating the small licking motion over the bead of moisture gathered at his tip. It was saltier and slightly more bitter than she expected, but the way Lucien shuddered warmed her blood. She kept the rest of him in her fist, continuing to move her hand up and down the length of his shaft. “Like this?”
“Elain—”
She giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
His cock was pleasantly warm to the touch. Softer than she’d expect—not so different from silk, the way she could slide her palm against him with so little resistance. She wanted to know what it would feel like to take him in her mouth. What he would taste like.
“Cauldron,” he groaned.
Elain flicked her eyes up to see Lucien was watching, his eyes half-lidded and still utterly fixed on what she was doing as she slowly opened her mouth and slid his head between her lips. She swirled her tongue around him, marvelling at the taste, the sounds she was coaxing from him, how his hand speared into her hair and tugged.
“Stop—Stop, sweetheart, please. You’re going to make me come.”
Elain pulled her head up, but didn’t stop working him with her hand as she asked, “And that’s a bad thing?”
“If you want a child, it’d be a waste for it to go in your mouth,” he said candidly. His eyes were glazed, and he seemed to hesitate before adding, “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing myself all over your lips.”
Oh? Elain grinned, then lowered her mouth back down, taking in as much of him as she could manage. He was enormous, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to fit all of him in her mouth, but Lucien didn’t seem to mind. His head had fallen back into the pillows, his lips parted open in pleasure. She hummed, delighted to see he was enjoying himself, and nearly gagged when his hips bucked in response.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
Lucien’s voice was ordinarily decadent. Rich and low and a little bit raspy. In the mornings that raspiness became thicker, more raw. And when he was like this, still half asleep and drunk with desire, it became the most exquisite sound she’d ever heard.
She hummed again to see if she could elicit the same response. It was exhilarating to be able to drive him senseless for a change, to watch the way he came apart as she hallowed her cheeks and continued bobbing her head. He was able to manage only a few more passes before his fingers tightened in her hair. His hips jerked forward, and a low guttural noise was all the warning she was given before he spilled into her mouth.
Elain waited until his body stopped shuddering before she swallowed and gently pulled away. She met his eyes as she sat up, swiping his spend from her bottom lip and sucking it from her thumb with a flourish. He made an odd sound in the back of his throat.
She sang, “Looks like you’ll have to make it up to me another time.”
Lucien shook his head. “Now,” he said, reaching for her. Elain yelped as she was dropped back atop his chest, and he was pulling her down to kiss her again and again, paying no mind to the taste of himself. He grunted, “I’ll make it up to you now.”
She believed that he would have made good on that promise if there hadn’t been a knock on the door.
“We’ll take our breakfast later,” he called.
The knock came again, more insistent. This time, followed by Vassa’s voice.
“Your Highness, I’ve received an urgent notice from the guards at the gatehouse. They say that King Beron is on his way. He’ll be arriving in a matter of minutes.”
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