Tumgik
#it's all i want someone hand this to me i am Begging of you
holybibly · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bunnies, lately my brain has been going crazy with the number of ideas in my head and the number of drafts is already over 50 🙈 And it seems like my inspiration just won't stop.
Everyone has seen today's teaser, right? And I just can't stay away. So here I am, sharing with you the idea that came to me today.
Bunny lucky charm hockey players Ateez x reader
Have you heard about Ateez? Yes, the hockey team that has failed every game this season despite their pretty faces and endless hours of practice. And they are in desperate need of a win so that they can keep their scholarship and not get kicked out of the university. And when I say desperate, it's literally true—if they have to lick the floor with their tongues for a win, they'll do it without a second thought.
So when they hear a rumour that there is a certain girl with a touch of "pure luck" in the painting department, they immediately find themselves on their knees before her. They'll do whatever it takes to get her "luck" for themselves, and maybe, just maybe, they'll fuck her in the process.
Loud, noisy, bulky, and sweating like bloody dogs after a rainstorm—the hockey team at your university was not your cup of tea. So it was a resounding "no" when they trooped into your small studio in the university's art department and asked you to be their lucky "bunny." You were from a completely different world, and you didn't want to be associated with someone like them; the whole university knew about their parties and their fucking. It seemed impossible to find a girl who hadn't slept with one or more of them, and there were even some who would manage to fuck the whole team at once. So you threw them out of the studio, even though they were on their knees, begging you not to.
But what you don't know about Ateez is that they never give up. They just change their tactics.
And if you were the golden ticket to their victory, they would stop at nothing until they had their hands on you.
"What are we going to do about it now? She answered quite emphatically." Yunho asked as he lay on the floor in the middle of their living room. There was no trace of his usual positive and sunny energy left; the threat of getting expelled was hanging over them all like a damned thundercloud.
"It's all Wooyoung's fault. He was the one who scared her." San noticed and pressed his face against Seonghwa's shoulder like a cat. The long-haired boy himself was deeply absorbed in thinking about a certain girl with her paint-covered hands.
"That's not true at all! Mingi was the one who kneeled first; I just followed." Woo shouted in indignation and slapped San's thigh with his hand.
"You followed on a reflex?" Jongho remarked, causing the room to burst into a fit of laughter.
"What if we seduce her?" Yeosang asked quietly. His voice was soft and almost drowned out by the cacophony of laughter from the rest of the team, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa were able to hear him clearly.
The two older boys looked at each other and engaged in a silent dialogue before a dark, lecherous grin appeared on both their faces.
"That sounds like a great idea, Sangie." Hongjoong said, running his tongue tip over his lips. "Let's go fuck the bunny for good luck, boys."
293 notes · View notes
c-nstantine · 2 days
Text
to be a muse
Description: Benedict meets a fascinating young woman
Word Count: 0.9K
Warnings: I think I made Benedict a bit of a himbo but that's okay. the reader is still black and even though she's charlotte's daughter, I made it so she's any skin tone which lowkey makes sense given how wild genetics work
Tumblr media
Benedict stared at the painfully blank canvas of his family's drawing room. Hyacinth's and Gregory's laughter could be heard running about in the family's home. Kate and Anthony were doing god knows what, honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up from the love that came from the both of them.
"Brother, I fear I'm in a rut," Benedict announced while plopping himself down in between Colin and Eloise. He reached over and stole one of Eloise's bonbons.
"I beg your pardon," Colin said as he jolted awake from Benedict's sudden appearance.
"Nothing, and I mean nothing, has inspired me. Idle hands," He waved his hands in the air for extra effort.
"You are out of inspiration and you woke me up to tell me this," Colin tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but nothing was working as Benedict yapped on and on about art.
"Yes," Benedict shrugged.
"Have you tried going to the museum? I hear there is a new exhibit. It might spark something for you," Eloise just wanted to eat her bonbons in peace.
"That's why you are my favorite, " He ruffled her hair before dashing off to find his coat before heading to the museum.
-
He stood in front of a painting for what felt like hours. It seemed like he was waiting for something to come to him, his inspiration. Footsteps shuffled around him, yet, Benedict remained unmoved.
"I find his work to capture the inquisitive nature of who he paints," A melodic voice came from behind him. He turned a saw a woman around his age with the most beautiful features. Delectable lips, and round cheeks, and her skin looked like it was kissed by the gods themselves. The gorgeous shade of brown, he had ever seen.
"You do? That is a refreshing perspective. My family thinks them all to be faces on a canvas," He probably should have addressed her more formally but for now he was happy to have someone share interests with him.
"They are but they are also so much more. Each brush stroke is an attempt to capture a moment. No matter how imperfect it may be," She looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips. His eyes lingered there a little long before dragging down the rest of her body. She did not have the clothing of a commoner. She must be a lady, he thought to himself.
"Are you a painter?" He asked.
"I am talentless in art, I'm afraid but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. And what about you?" She shook her head and he noticed the bouncy curls that fell from her scalp. He was becoming more and more entranced by the moment.
"I dabble. I am not great enough for a museum. My siblings believe it to be my hobby," He admitted rather shyly.
"Yet. You are not great enough for a museum, yet. Mister?" She asked for his name.
"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton," Benedict gave her a small smile as he introduced himself. She chuckled slightly.
"It has been wonderful chatting with you, Mr. Bridgerton, but I fear I may have to leave." She looked disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. Benedict looked up at the painting and began to speak.
"What is your name so I may fin-" He looked down and she was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd before he could finish his statement. He pushed to the entrance of the museum but there was nothing.
-
"All of this happened and you did not catch the lady's name?" Colin asked as he and Benedict made their way away from the mothers who all wanted their daughters paired with a Bridgerton.
"She was perfect. I only entertained Mother's idea of me coming to the ball tonight in hopes of seeing her," Benedict said while adjusting his waistcoat and smiling at some of the season's eligible debutantes but none of them were her.
"And if she's not here?" Colin asked, his eyebrows squinted and a bit concerned by the potential answer.
"I will simply cease," He deadpanned.
"Cease what?"
"To exist," Benedict said and watched as more and more people arrived at the ball. Even the Queen was in attendance, but someone far more interesting trailed behind her. 
"Stop hitting me. Mother, he's hitting me," Colin said as Benedict repeatedly tapped his brother's shoulder. Benedict's eyes were wide as they trailed the woman he met in the museum. 
"That's her. That's the woman," Benedict said watching her gracefully walk across the room. She was dressed in the finest silks and her curls that were wild and free earlier were pinned back.
"Well, that cannot be," His mother started. Her son could not have been talking about her. That would have been impossible. 
"What are you talking about? She is right there. Even more beautiful than when I saw her last," He noted her appearance before quickly bowing in the presence of Queen Charlotte. Sure, the family had her favor, but even they knew their place.
"Bridgertons, I do not think I have introduced my daughter. Princess Y/N, she takes after me in beauty of course," The Bridgertons turned and then bowed in front of the Princess who looked mortified.
"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," She spoke softly as her gaze held Benedict's. He understood why she dashed away. The scandal of an unmarried princess wandering the museum alone. Especially, considering how long the two of them spoke together.
"A pleasure indeed," He would see her again. He had to find his muse.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo @blckbarbiedoll idk if you guys wanna be here for this because it's a bit diff from my usual content but just let me know!!
221 notes · View notes
faghubby · 1 day
Text
Cuckhubby
"What do you think? Is this what you expected?" Sally asked as I watched a video of her sucking her ex boyfriends cock. I had begged her to see it. I had met Greg a few weeks ago and after He had had to much to drink he let it slip that he still had a sex video of him and Sally. After I became obsessed with seeing it. Confessing it turned me on to Sally. Sally finally caved and let me watch it. I was sitting in a chair my cock throbbing in my pants as I watched. I was amazed how Sally was taking all of him down her throat. He must be 6 maybe 7 inches. Sally had no trouble sucking me. But my barely 5 inch didn't even reach her throat.
Sally took the phone away before the video got any further. I just grabbed her and kissed her pulling onto my lap.
"Watching me suck someone else dick really turned you on" Sally said. This was all new, we had never even watched porn together.
"Can I see the rest?" I asked it came out timidly. Reaching for her phone.
"I don't think so" Sally told me. "Why do you want to see it?"
"I find it so exciting" I admitted not being able to look at her. She lifted my chin.
"Going to need more then that" Sally told me.
"Do I satisfy you?" I asked her.
"Is that what this is, yes I love you Paul" Sally told me.
"Greg is bigger" I mumbled.
"Size isn't everything" Sally assured me.
"But he pleased you more" I told her.
"Well it's just different, I get more pleasure just being with you" I kiss her again. We wound up in bed. I didn't last long turned on by the video. After we laid there.
"I would like to watch you and Greg" I told Sally as I held her. "I know I didn't make you cum"
"Don't be silly, I don't need to cum everytime" she told me.
"Now who is being silly?" I asked her. I was rock hard again just talking about this. Sally seemed annoyed.
"Here" she handed me her phone. I watched the video of Greg fucking her first doggie style then he spun her and fucked her with her leg on his shoulder.
"Satisfied" Sally said she was mad at me.
"That was so hot" I told her. I tried to roll on top of her and fuck her again.
"Stop, it turns you on watching me be a slut?" Sally scolded.
"Not a slut baby, just receiving the pleasure you deserve." I told her.
"OH no I sleep with some guy and then with you, that's a slut" Sally told me.
"What if you didn't sleep with me then?" I spilled out.
"What?" Sally said surprised. She reached out finally touching me. "What are you saying? Sally teased.
"You would give up sex with me, for what ever?" Sally teased and slowly stroked me.
"Yes, oh yes. Cuck me. Make me your bitch" I moaned. Sally stopped mid stroke.
"What does that mean?" Sally asked. I tried to hump her hand and found only air.
"Please baby!" I begged.
"No sit up, explain yourself" Sally told me.
"What's cuck me?" She asked.
"Sally can we just" I started . She picked up her phone. After a moment
"What? This want you want?" She flipped her phone she had googled cuck.
"Yesss" I hissed. Sally reached down and touched my dick again as soon as she did I exploded. All over myself. I got up to clean myself up. When I came back to bed it Sally was tucked in with the lights off. I kissed her head goodnight.
I was a little worried the next morning about what ti had confessed to last night but, Sally didn't say a word. It was just a typical morning. We both headed out to work. It was a week before I tried to initiate sex.
"Baby, I am on my period" she told me. This wasn't always a no reason. But I understood. It was several days later where I tried to initiate sex again.
"Are you sure? I been doing some reading." Sally smiled.
"What are you talking about?" I asked
"Well I read alot about how cuckolds or want to be cuckolds like to ne denied. Is that true? Would you like me to deny you sex?" Sally teased.
"Baby no, that was just you know fantasy stuff" I told her.
"Well what if I wanted to try out some of your fantasy stuff?" Sally smiled she spread her legs and pushed my head between her legs.
"Lick me thru my panties" she told me. I was willing to play along and soon had her panties soaked with my saliva and her juices. I pulled them to the side and continued.
"Go ahead and take them off" she told me. I did and she pushed my head back into position. I made her cum. She seemed to really enjoy it as well. Much more vocal and pulled my hair then usual. I then started to take off my underwear.
"That's not necessary" Sally stated stopping me.
"If you do please me like that once a day until Sunday then you can have me anyway you want. Oh and no doing it yourself" Sally challenged me.
"Any way I want?" A big grin on my face.
"Yes you freak you can even stick it in my butt" Sally told me. We had done it a few times but I knew she didn't enjoy it as much as I did. It was Thursday. I could make it to Sunday. We cuddled and I eventually my erection faded.
Sally spent the next few days teasing me nonstop. Sending me dirty pics while I was at work to rubbing me thru my jeans as we ate dinner. And every night I devoured her pussy. The hornier I got the more I tried to please her.
I woke up Sunday morning hoping to get laid.
"Tonight baby" Sally told me. I watched as she put on a thong. She never wore anything but cotton bikini panties except to bed when on special occasions. I was o$ to play golf today.
"What a are your plans today?" I asked.
"I was thinking about going to the club with you and flirting with some guys" she told me.
"What?" I was startled by her confession. She crawl we across the bed.
"You know you want me to" Sally teased kissing me. My erection throbbed in my boxers.
"I, well you can't" I babbled. She cuddled up beside me her bare breast pushing into my arm. She turned on the video of her and Greg holding it so I could see. I so wanted her.
"I could if I wanted to couldn't I? You love it if I did? What else would you like? I did alot of research cuckolds like some pretty kinky stuff" she teased. I tried to turn to get any friction on my throbbing dick. She reached into my boxers and gentle ran her fingers over me.
"Look you are so excited" Sally teased the covers now pulled back as precum formed on the tip of my dick. Her finger ran thru it and she bought it to my lips.
"Taste it" Sally smiled. I opened my mouth slightly and she slid her finger in my mouth.
"Yummy isn't it" she giggled and repeated it. She then slid down between my legs pulling my boxers off as she did. She kissed and licked my thighs and balls but avoided any contact with my dick. I was going mad with desire. When she licked my asshole. Then her tounge was replaced by her finger. She rubbed and teased my hole with her finger tip. Her other hand found a drop of precum again feeding it to me. As her finger slid in my mouth another pushed its way into my ass. Involuntary I lifted my ass giving her more access. She took it as she fingered my ass. Then added a second finger.
"Tell me what you want?" Sally hissed in my ear.
"I want to cum, please" I moaned.
"Will you eat your cum if you do?" She asked
"Yes, anything please" I begged
"You want me to Cuckold you, make you my bitch don't you?" She asked.
"God yes, it's so hot" I moaned.
"You like this?" She asked pushing her fingers hard into my ass. I just wimpered like a girl. Suddenly her mouth engulfed my dick. I came as soon as her tounge wrapped around the head. She milked every drop. Then kissed me. She had not swallowed and fed me my own spern. I was forced to swallow. Sally continued to pump her fingers in and out of my ass.
"One last thing since you want to be my bitch I think you should wear my thong to play golf today" she told me. I just nodded as she removed her fingers. After a few minutes of laying there in silence I got up and went to shower. I was stunned by what had just happened but also excited about it. When I got out Sally was waiting she held a white thong it was cotton but the waist ban was a wide lace. She didn't say a word just knelt and had me step into them. Then pulled them into place.
I wanted to throw Sally on the bed and take her.
"Stop" she said as I pawed at her. "You have to get going to make your tee time"
"I rather spend the day with you" I told her.
"You made a commitment" she said as if reminding a child of their promise. I got dressed to go play golf. Still horny even after the best orgasm in my life. Wearing her panties thru off my game I couldn't focus. My mind clouded of images of my wife. I even imagined my golf buddies bending her over right on the course and fucking her one after the other. It didn't help that Sally flooded my messages with picks of her, but also of women getting fucked as their husband's watched, or sucking cum out of their used pussy.
"I want to stretch that horny ass of yours" she texted at one point. Then she sent a pic of the boy who lived next door. 19 or 20 home from college. He was working in the yard in just a pair of shorts.
"I want to feel him inside me, tell me I can" she texted. I don't know why but I responded
"That would be so hot, yes fuck him" as soon as I hit send I wanted to take it back. I went straight home after we finished 18.
I walked in the house but no Sally. I looked out the kitchen window to see the shed open. I went to call out to her when I caught a glimpse of Sally bare ass. And a man's hand on it. I just stared out the window hoping to see more. But didn't 10 minutes later Jacob the kid from next door came out of the shed. Followed a moment later by Sally. She looked a mess. Jacob headed home through the gate and Sally came inside. She saw me at the window.
"You are back early, cuck" she smiled. She cane over and kissed me. "Take me to bed" she jumped into my arms.
"We used a condom, so maybe next time you can taste him' Sally said as she stripped naked as soon as we reached the bedroom. She then pulled off my shorts and stroked me thru her thong.
"You were excited today wearing my thong" she giggled noticing the dry circles of precum that had kept leaking every time I got an erection. I gave her two orgasms with my tounge. Before she finished me with a hand job. Again feeding me my own cum.
"things will change alot around here" she told me, as I drifted off to a nap. I woke about 2 hours later still wearing Sally's thong. I found Sally in the kitchen on her laptop. I had only grabbed my robe. As soon as Sally saw me she untied my robe and rubbed my soft dick.
"Take off the robe" Sally said.
"I set uo a tinder account, to meet hung men to pleasure me" she told me as I stood in front of her in just her thong.
"I ordered this as well" she turned the screen to show me. There was a chastity cage on the screen. "Would you wear it for me, under your panties?" She again rubbed me. I grew in her thong. I nodded not wanting to answer. "I got this too" she smiled and clicked showing me a strapon dildo. She pulled me close her hand groping my ass.
"You aren't just a cuckold are you? You want to he a sissy? Want me to make you suck a cock? Maybe even get it up the ass by a big cock?" She continued all the while she rubbed me thru her panties. I wanted to cum again but she stopped and left me wanting.
Again Sally teased me all week, if I even suggested sex she had me wear a pair of her panties for a day. I loved all the attention but so wanted to cum. Sally had me go down on her only once a few days later. But constantly reminded me I was not to touch myself
I woke startled one morning as Sally held an ice back against my balls. I tried to complain but she silenced me and locked on the chastity cage. I looked up and saw the strapon and lube also on the bed.
"I could of gotten the smaller cage" Sally giggled. She then rubbed something hard and cold against my asshole. She applied force and pushed it in. She worked it alittle before it sucked in and set. It felt huge. I jumped up and saw a plug missing from an anal training set.
"Go shower" Sally ordered I got up it felt odd to walk with my ass stuffed. And I realized I had to sit to pee. Not being able to direct my looked penis. When I got out of the shower Sally helped me step into a pink lace thong. It was so girlie I thought I had never seen Sally wear anything like it. She handed me an armfull of sexy panties in bright colors.
"These are you're everyday panties now" she told me. I had to still go to work I thought.
" I have a date tonight" Sally told me. I was shocked by just looked at the floor. Saly didn't say another word just finished getting ready and left for work. I found myself struggling to get going. Just before I left I called Sally
"May I, the plug is" I didn't know how to ask.
"Paulie you don't have to wear the plug to work" Sally told me.
"Thank you" I said relieved and removed it before I headed to work.
It was after lunch that Sally texted me.
/do you remember Andy my co worker/
/yes/ I responded. I had met him several times over the years. He was an older properly by 10 years.
She then sent me a dick pic. I guessed was Andy. Then a pic of her stretched pussy.
/I feel like I just can't say no, now that I know you want this/ she texted.
/is this your date tonight/ I asked
/no, that's another man/ she then sent me another dick pic. This one of a hung black man.
I sat up half the night I went from crying, to being angry. I tried to call her over and over again.
It was after 9pm when Sally came home. I was relieved. One look at her and I knew she had gone through with it all. Sally undressed me right in hallway. I wasn't wearing panties instead I had but on a pair of my boxers.
"What's this about? You think you can try and be a man again?" Sally asked.
"Sally this has gone too far" I pleaded
"Nope, now you are lying to not only me but yourself" Sally told me I stood naked in front of her with my dick trying to get hard in my cage. She smacked my ass.
"You want more then this" Sally told me.
"You want me to totally control you, you want me to humiliate you" Sally told me. She smacked my cage. I flinched. "You are going to suck a real man's cum out of my cunt" I again began to cry.
"What has happened to you, I thought I married a man and now you are just a little bitch" Sally told me. She pushed me to my knees. I reached up and pulled under her skirt she wore no panties, Sally stepped closer pushing her dirty cunt into my face. I didn't hesitate I licked and sucked cum from her. Globs of cum slid down my throat.
"That's right bitch, you know what you are" Sally cursed. She never acted like this. I was so excited. She leaned against the wall as I cleaned every drop of cum out of her. I was still on my knees.
"You know you want to be a sissy bitch. I don't ever want to see you try and wear boy undies again. No I want you to shave yourself smooth. And learn your place.
"Now tell me, how much you want to be my little cunt bitch" Sally told me.
"Yes, make me your bitch" I moaned. She pulled my hair till I stood up and led me to the bedroom by my cage.
"On the bed" she ordered. I laid on the bed. "No bitch like you want it" she told me. As she pulled out her strap on. I swallowed hard and rolled over. "Ass up cunt" she pushed my head into a pillow. Sally went slow applying lube and working her fingers opening up my ass. She eventually worked her toy into my ass again she went slow. But soon was fucking me with long stokes.
"That's it my little faggot husband" Sally said smacking my ass. After about 10 minutes she stopped and pulled out she removed the toy and collapsed on the bed.
"Get this all cleaned up before you go to bed" she told me. I cleaned up the toy and put the lube away. I also picked up her clothes and put on a pair of my panties. Charged her phone. Then tucked her in before joining her. My ass was sore as I held her and drifted off to sleep.
I woke in the morning to Sally pushing a dildo into my mouth.
"Wake up bitch" she said as I gagged
"You will have to learn to appreciate hard cock in the morning" Sally told me. She then stopped. And got up. Sally showered as I just laid in bed. Only after did I get up. I found Sally had laid out hair removal gel, razors, even a perfume after shave lotion. I knew what she wanted and shaved. I wasn't able to shave around the cage. It took awhile but when I finished I wrapped a towel around me and went to find Sally. Sally was texting someone.
"I couldn't finish" I said timidly. Exposing my cage. Sally giggled. And then led me back to the bathroom. She unlocked the cage. And watched as I finished shaving. She gently stroked my hard dick.
"It seems so small, maybe because he was so big last night" Sally told me. "I didn't satisfy you last night you must be so horny" she led me to the bed.
"On the bed" Sally commanded. Again I laid on my back. She looked at me disappointed as she opened the drawer where I had put her strapon. I frowned and rolled over sticking my ass in the air. She got behind me.
"You know what you want that's good" Sally said and worked her cock in me again.
"I will fuck you every day just like you want" Sally told me as she drove her toy deep in my ass. "Don't you dare cum without asking me" Sally warned me. After a few minutes Sally reached under me and stroked my dick. It only took a few before I came all over the bed.
"I told you to ask first" Sally said disappointed. She pushed my face down in my own puddle of cum. As she did she smacked my ass.
"Stay there don't move" Sally warned me then smacked me over and over. I found myself licking up the cum from the sheets without being told.
"Thank you Sally, thank you for everything" I moaned as she left me there on the bed.
"Get this room cleaned up before you start on the mess you left in the bathroom" Sally laughed.before walking out of the bedroom
60 notes · View notes
Note
Glad you liked the submission, as I have more on the Aware of Abuse AU!
I think it would be really interesting to reflect on how this situation would be kind of a drawn out grapple for Marinette. This is in no way salt and I think if it was written she'd both warrant having hear grievances hear, but also could definitely come off as a bit antagonistic, or at least wary.
(Exactly how hostile she defaulted to with Chloe tended to oscillate episode to episode so ya know how it be)
Marinette would have the easiest time getting close with Kagami. She has no history like with Chloe & no baggage, IE friendship with Chloe, like Adrien. Tomoe is not someone Marinette admires and its much easier to see abuse in the physicals side. While she'd struggle to see it more in the verbal or negligence side; or otherwise be able to rationalize the negative behaviors such as over protectiveness.
Meanwhile Adrien would be tied a lot closer to Chloe going into school as she'd be being less overtly antagonistic or vain. Plus, they'd have a much stronger "We need each other to keep from falling back into old patterns and to survive" mentality.
Plus Adrien would be a bit more overtly snarky and less respectful to authority or stuff like Gabriel's fashion shows. He still is very nice and super wants to be liked by everyone all the time, but it'd be a lot easier for her to see the negatives in his behavior.
Chloe meanwhile would probably rankle and outright frustrate her the most. Not just because she'd still be hard to get along with in general, or because she still is not against ignoring rules or disrespecting authority figures. But because...
No clue what your religious views may or may not be, but have you heard those talks of "Catholic guilt" and the idea of needing to suffer, do penance, ETC before one can be redeemed?
Marinette wouldn't strictly think or want that, but there would be a part of her that would sort of... Well resent that Chloe is seemingly just choosing to change and not even necessarily enough.
That is to say, Chloe might still rudely reject Sabrina's cookies out of hand but then instantly walk it back and have some.
But more in that she's suffered no defeat, she's not been taken from her previous luxurious circumstances, she hasn't seemingly lost anything and even more she'd not even be overtly contrite.
That is to say, Chloe wouldn't be doing stuff akin to the Lady Luck AU (Nothing against it, great fic!) where she'd frequently reflect on how much of a 'fuck up' she was. Or or say stuff like, "I know I was a bitch but I am trying to be better". Or feel guilt in the "I can't even be mad they assume the worst of me cos I probably would have done X."
She's just choosing to be different and on some level its deeply unsatisfying and even frustrating.
(Where is the arc, the climax, the catharsis!?)
Especially if some people roll with it or let her get away with it when she starts falling into old habits.
Marinette doesn't want Chloe to suffer or beg forgiveness or hate herself she doesn't. She just doesn't understand why now? Why at all? Why because of her friend? Why because of how she was treated and not how she treated others?
Why couldn't she care enough about hurting Marinette to change!?
That I think would be the lynch-pin and one that is, from Marinette's perspective, as well as others in and out of universe entirely sympathetic, she was hurt after all.
But in that same vain Chloe's an abused child lashing out due to trauma and taught such terrible lessons she sometimes couldn't process that she wasn't doing 'right'.
Marinette's been hurt, and that would need to be properly addressed. But it wouldn't need to happen in a self recriminating manner necessarily.
Not that I don't love those, self hating characters rife with issues are fun to explore. It is just that I think it'd be interesting to explore both, changing as a person, and a "Bad" victim getting help before they actually even start processing over much how others might warrant reoperations.
Does that make sense?
The story "restorative Justice" sort of dips into this from a different middle ground angle and most stuff by Generalluxun often have elements of it too.
Oh yeah no it's.
Marinette doesn't understand why Chloé is Like That™ in the first place, so she can't fathom her wanting to change.
From Mari's perspective, Chloé's life is pretty perfect. She's beautiful, she's rich. She can do whatever she wants whenever she wants and always gets her way through money or influence. She's always bragging about how she's so much better than everyone. Clearly her parents must adore her because they spoil her with gifts and never tell her 'no'. Any 'hardships' are just minor inconveniences that Chloé brought upon herself by being mean.
So why would Chloé choose to change? If it's not broke, don't fix it. Chloé's life is Perfect™, why would she do something to make it different?
It's not that she wants Chloé to suffer, or thinks that she /should/ suffer. She just doesn't understand why someone with a Perfect Life™ would change without going through some kind of suffering that forces introspection.
22 notes · View notes
aq2003 · 8 months
Text
series 3 is so frustrating because there is like a shining core of pure diamond underneath the problems . like conceptually it rocks so incredibly hard. but the problems
#dr who#i am being so honest when i say ten should have gotten on his knees and begged for simm!master's life#they should have framed the bit between him and martha's mom so different#like yes it is 10000% in character that the doctor with his bleeding heart and loneliness wouldn't want to kill him#even after everything that happened. because he's the only person he has left. 'i forgive you' was PERFECT.#but literally anyone else that suffered from what the master did. Deserves to rip him to shreds. so very obviously#and like i know.i KNOW that i am watching the 'funny immortal alien saves people through time and space' show#but i actually despise the doctor being framed as like an all powerful savior. or treated like one. even for a little bit. is Annoying#the first part of the series 3 finale having martha be humanity's last hope was SO GOOD bc it like kind of set her up as like#having to grapple with all that responsibility and attention like the doctor does. everyone's lives are in her hands. so crunchy#but when it like slides into 'everyone pls believe in our specialest boy in the world The Doctor <3' it just. falls flat#i feel like with a couple tweaks here and there in the execution and like actual fuckinnn people of color in the writer's room#series 3 would be PEAK media. but as it is it's just. falling short.#i do really appreciate martha deciding to leave ten on her own though. first of all. qpp down. second of all#she's realized that she can't keep traveling with him. bc (as i mentioned) hes someone who simultaneously needs saving#and refuses to be saved in the ways that matter. Yes im fucking ignoring the unrequited romance angle i think#it does a gigantic disservice to martha's character if u boil her down to that. fight me i dont care if that was the authorial intent#martha in the end is too kind to ten and ten keeps making her watch his meandering path of self destruction. toxic doomed qprism to ME.#anyway fuck. idk man series 2 consensus was that im dead inside and series 3 consensus is that the version i have of it in my head is peak#series 2 is better but i think because of my ten martha insanity i actually enjoyed watching series 3 more than series 2.#even if i got mad at it more than any other season. i think something is wrong with me. um. lmao#ten and martha#10 era
18 notes · View notes
medicinemane · 2 months
Text
Anyway... as always I'm just so very very very picky when it comes to horror. I just have this very narrow window of what I personally like, and there's just so many things that just have horror elements rather than being horror to me (and don't even get me started on stuff with a human killer, for me personally that's a thriller rather than horror, and I don't care for it cause sadly we've got plenty of human killers in real life)
It's just so hard to do good horror. It's hard to ride the line between showing too little and showing too much, between building tension and being boring... and dear god is it so easy to trend into being goofy
Then you've got the issue of generally having to come up with something totally new that we don't have in the real world (to please me anyway) and having enough lore that it's actually something... but not talking about it so much that you make it sound stupid or open it up to plot holes
Very very very very tricky genre... I think I still respect bad horror, even though I also have disdain for it and don't like it at all... at least they tried, or... at least... some of them tried (some is just schlock)
#to show just how picky I am about horror; I don't like Blair Witch Project#it breaks my number one rule of no bitchy 20 somethings... they just are all bitching at each other so much it puts me to sleep#I hate low cohesion groups; they just fucking annoy me... once again; I can see that in real life#so... I can't sit through the stuff that builds the atmosphere for it; so the pay off to me is just someone standing in a corner#which obviously isn't what it actually is; but I can't sit through it enough to actually soak up... fuck; don't even know what's going on#nah... hate when likable characters die; but I'd rather have likable people that make the movie watchable#than people snipping back and forth at each other; and they're all just begging to get their hands on a rock to show how brutal they are#also; don't like any found footage because I can't fucking see what's going on#no of this is objectively right; but it is why I'm so hard to please with horror#... like I think there's a lot to like about Until Dawn; but it's not even slightly horror to me#there's barely any monsters; and they're pretty fucking boring for monsters... unnatural things are key to horror for me#cause again; if the killer is a people... yeah; those exist and they suck#I want an unknowable creature; I want something that will reveal to me the unknown tongue; you know?#very very tricky to please with horror; but I am always welcome to suggestions#and if I don't like it; that doesn't make it bad; it just makes it less than nearly perfect
1 note · View note
lilithland · 3 months
Text
imagine you’re running late, trying to move some laundry, because of course as the inferior sex, you do the cooking and the cleaning
you’re almost done moving your clothes when you see your favorite sock stuck in the back of the machine, you try to stick your arm as far into the machine as possible but you still can’t reach the sock
you maneuver your body until your head and both arms are in the machine, you successfully grab your sock but when you go to pull your body out of the machine you find you are stuck
you wiggle and squirm but can’t seem to get out of the washing machine
your partner was supposed to pick you up for a date later (you had left them a little note hoping to suprise them when they got home) so you knew eventually someone would come to your rescue
20 minutes later you’re scared shitless when you hear a loud knock at your door, it can’t possibly be your partner because they have a key and it’s way too early for them to be back
you start to panic a little but try to ration that a burglar wouldn’t try to knock first before entering, you hear the loud knock again followed by your door opening
“maintenance”
you don’t know if you should holler for help or pray to god that they don’t enter your laundry room, you’re beyond humiliated at your predicament
luck was not on your side, you hear heavy footsteps approach you, you hear a low whistle behind you
“and what do we have here?” rumbles a deep voice
you swallow your pride, “hi, um, sorry about this, wo-would you be able to help me … please?”
large hands grab your hips, you naively think you’re about to be set free
when instead of attempting to pull you out of the machine, one hand retracts and lands a hard smack on your ass
you scream in pain and jolt a little in the machine
“what the hell is wrong with you?!” you scream trying harder to wiggle your way out
“well sweetheart, when i enter a house and find a note that says i can’t wait for all the dirty things you want to do to me and then find a hot babe with an incredible ass on display, i have to oblige and give them the fucking of a lifetime”
you still at his words, he had found the note you left for your partner, he thinks you set up this elaborate plan to have wild sex with a stranger
“no you don’t understand that was meant for my partner i am seriously stuck please help me get out” you start pleading and begging
“sure, and i’m sure you’re gonna keep screaming no and for me to stop, even while your cunt squeezes and cums on my hard cock over and over again, is that the game we’re gonna play tonight sweetheart?”
you really start to thrash inside the machine, it doesn’t matter what you say, this stranger is about to r4pe your tiny holes
he shushes you as he continues to grope your ass with his giant hands
he flips the skirt you had been wearing up over your ass, giving him a perfect view of your thong
your boobs hadn’t quite made it into the machine, he yanks your tank top down freeing your titties, smushing them against the cold machine
the cold instantly makes your nipples hard and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips
“oh is someone finally getting excited?”
the strangers rough hands pinch your nipples as you start back up your protests of no’s
he gives your titties a rough smack and you scream and jolt in the machine again
he alternates between painful pinching and rough slapping, you start crying with how rough he’s being
“doesn’t matter how much you protest princess, i know you’ll be soaked when i go check on your princess parts again”
you refuse to believe him, but when his hands stop abusing your tits and go to remove your thong, you can feel the sticky trail being pulled from you
you feel his rough fingers collecting the juices at your enterance, the embarrassment of it all makes you leak around his hand even more
he wipes your girl juice along your thighs and all over your ass, the more his fingers just barely touch your cunnie to collect more, the more you drip for him
you hate how your body is betraying you
he removes his fingers and you hear some shuffling, you emotionally try to prepare yourself to be thrusted in to
you weren’t expecting to feel a wet tongue
you werent expecting to feel a wet tongue eating out your ass
you try to squirm but in the process accidentally push back more onto his tongue
his big hands deliver a hard smack to your thighs before pinning them down and holding them in place
“i can also go in dry baby doll”
you totally still at the implication he’s going to fuck your ass
you whimper and cry more
he removes one hand from your thigh and starts to play with your inferiority hole while he continues to eat out your asshole, he alternates between rubbing your nub, a little too hard, and roughly fingering your fuck hole
you don’t know how but his rough administrations make you have cummies
you clench the fingers inside you tightly as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm
before he stands he spits a glob of saliva right on top of your asshole
seconds later he’s rubbing his hard cock up and down your slit, collecting all of your girl juices as you continue to leak
without warning he starts to slowly and painfully shove his dick into you
each inch is excruciatingly painful and his dick seems to go on forever and ever
by the time he bottoms out you think you might pass out, there has to be at least eight inches of dick in your freshly r4ped asshole
he stills for a moment and decides to abuse your body some more while you adjust to his length
he smacks your ass and your titties, runs your overstimulated clit too hard and too fast
when he’s done playing with your body he grips your hips painfully and begins to piston in and out of your ass
he sets a brutal pace from the start, roughly fucking you against the washing machine
your abused and sensitive tits sway with each thrust, causing them to smack against the machine over and over again
you lose track of time, only knowing the sensation of your asshole being abused
without warning you hear a guttural grunt and feel a warmth deep in your gut
the maintenance man pulls out with a plop
“don’t worry baby, i’ll make sure to get a video of your gaping asshole leaking my hot sperm into your delicious cunt”
you’re horrified at every aspect of what he just said, your stomach churning at that the thought of such a video getting uploaded to the internet
as he said, you can feel the cum leaking out of your open asshole, slowly dripping towards your inferiority hole
as the sperm starts to pool, his fingers are on you again
or rather in you, his fingers easily slide into your gaping asshole, collecting his own jizz
to your continued horror he then shoves his fingers deep into your cunt, fucking his cum into the proper fuck hole
you aren’t on any birth control
his fingers move in and out of you slowly, you’re humiliatingly wet so he has no problem getting a few in you
“should i cum in your pussy next or try to get my fist in your ass?”
4K notes · View notes
allsadnshit · 2 months
Text
Sometimes I think about my best friend in my 20's response to when I told her I was envious of how talented and skilled she was cause she was always the friend that was doing a million new hobbies and just really had it together in my eyes and she seemed so disappointed in me and said how she's always been perceived as "talented" for things she was not a natural at and had actually worked tirelessly hard to learn to do and how it's never a compliment to assume someone has something you don't simply because they got lucky because more often than not they were just as capable as you and just chose to take risks, dedicate time, push through discomforts or doubts that maybe you succumb to, and really earned things that are often nonchalantly disregarded by peers as having walking in with already in hand
And I feel like that conversation really changed me cause I've always been bad at school and been a slow learner so I just sort of decided I wasn't smart and it wasn't my fault I wasn't born with the same advantages of people around me and I think that's something we all do as self protection from the truth that the only thing truly keeping us from what we want is usually ourselves and our decisions about our own narratives that aren't actually in stone even if we see them that way
I realized my friend was actually just not a quitter, and that she also felt not good enough often but decided to keep going in times where I know I would have stopped in her place
And I feel like taking ownership of my life a lot in the last few years has made me understand her better, even with stuff like chronic illness that practically begs us to victimize ourselves and then that way of thinking makes us sicker and more dependent on others when we could be accepting help without considering ourselves so helpless
It's really weird interacting with anyone once I've realized so much of that because I see my old self in people when they talk to me like I have something they don't because I am finally making different choices than I used to and honestly it is very irritating regardless of intention
If you want something someone else has that doesn't give you permission to assume how they got it or what it is even like having it - and I think more and more people have decided it's not their fault how they are choosing to live and that's why they are so stuck
3K notes · View notes
daincrediblegg · 27 days
Text
no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
2K notes · View notes
dreaming-medium · 6 months
Text
Stray Kids Kinktober Day 8
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Breeding - Bang Chan
Word Count: 8.4k
Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?
—————————————————————————
“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.
A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.
“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.
He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.
“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”
You sigh.
“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”
“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”
Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”
“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”
“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”
“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”
Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.
The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.
It was always one of Chan’s favorites.
“How long until the trip?” he asks.
“Next weekend.”
“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”
You force a laugh, “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”
“Your family is great and you know it.”
“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” Your arm slides off your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”
Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”
You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”
“Which one?”
“Lily.”
“She’s twelve.”
“Twelve and in love with you.”
Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.
Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.
“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.
“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.
“You can come with me!”
“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”
“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”
Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.
Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.
“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”
“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.
You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”
He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.
He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.
“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”
Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”
“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”
——————————————
The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.
“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.
“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”
Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.
“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”
Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.
“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”
You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”
Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.
As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.
“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.
“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.
“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”
“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”
“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”
“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”
At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.
“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”
“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”
His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.
“About three week-”
He moves about wildly.
“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”
Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.
“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”
A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.
“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”
“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”
“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”
Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.
“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.
“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”
You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.
The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.
“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”
“It seems so.”
Another bout of silence.
Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.
“I’ll uh… find the address.”
“Yeah.”
You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.
——————————————
Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.
“Our first date?” he asks.
“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”
“Second date?”
“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”
“When did we become official?”
“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”
“And?”
“You kissed me at my door.”
“Good.”
You both pause for a moment.
“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.
Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”
You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”
“No way, I kissed you.”
Chan puts the car into park.
“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.
“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”
You unbuckle your seatbelt.
“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”
Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.
He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.
“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.
The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.
“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.
Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.
They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.
“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.
Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.
“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.
He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.
“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.
Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.
A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.
Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”
Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.
The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.
Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.
“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”
He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.
The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.
“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.
“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”
You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.
The singular bed in the room.
Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.
He closes the door behind you both.
“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.
He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.
What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.
It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.
The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.
“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.
“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.
“I’m not cold all the time.”
“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”
“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”
There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”
——————————————
Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.
Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.
Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.
There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.
This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.
Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.
Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.
“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”
“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.
“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”
Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”
“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”
“Sounds exciting.”
Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.
Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.
“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”
“I think I can get used to that.”
“You better.”
A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”
——————————————
“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.
“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.
The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.
“No, me!”
You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.
“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.
“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.
Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.
Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.
“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.
The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.
Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.
The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.
No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.
He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.
It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.
“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.
“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.
“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.
Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.
“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.
Your little cousin groans.
“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.
After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.
Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.
The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.
Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.
You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.
Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.
“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”
A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”
Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.
The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.
Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.
Well, if he’s playing the part.
You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.
Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.
Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.
The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.
Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.
Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.
Chan melted into your touch so easily.
In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.
He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.
Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.
One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.
Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.
Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.
Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”
Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”
“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”
Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.
Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.
It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.
Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.
“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.
“I know.”
——————————————
Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.
A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.
A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.
The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.
The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.
A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.
Chan, it’s Chan behind you.
You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.
But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.
It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.
They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.
Your bedroom door is practically flung open.
Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.
He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.
Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.
You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.
“Noooo…” you moan out.
Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”
She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”
Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.
This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.
Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.
“Chaaan!” she giggles.
After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.
“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.
He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.
Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.
Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.
What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?
What if it was his?
His eyes flicker all over your face.
Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.
——————————————
“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.
He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.
You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.
When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.
Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.
Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.
She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”
Your family can be so crass sometimes.
Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”
“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”
“She never stops.”
Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”
Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.
Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.
“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”
“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.
“And?”
“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.
You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.
He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.
“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.
Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.
In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.
——————————————
The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.
It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.
Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.
“I’m never going to get to bed.”
“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.
“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”
“You don’t even like coffee.”
“I know!” He whined.
You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”
“When did I say that?”
“Literally this morning!”
“Fine, fine.”
He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.
The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.
Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.
Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.
“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.
“Pity,” you tease him.
“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.
Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.
You hit the ball and sink one in.
With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.
The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.
You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.
Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.
“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.
He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.
The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.
“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.
His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.
Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.
Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–
“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.
He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.
“Shoot,” he exhales.
With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.
You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.
“Take that!”
When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.
And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.
“Y/N,” he breathes out.
You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.
Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.
Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.
You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?
He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.
Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.
Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.
His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.
“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”
Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.
Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.
You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.
“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.
“But I–”
“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.
Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.
Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.
As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.
Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”
God.
His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.
“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”
Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.
“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.
“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.
Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.
Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.
Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.
His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.
Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.
Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.
Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.
Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.
He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.
Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.
You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.
His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.
After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.
He can’t help but smirk into your folds.
Every single moan is music to his ears.
Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.
“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.
It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.
But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.
“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”
He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.
You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.
Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.
A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.
“Chan,” you whine.
“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.
“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.
“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.
How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.
“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.
A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.
“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”
Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.
“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”
In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.
Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.
Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.
Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.
“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”
Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.
When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.
He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.
With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.
“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”
An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.
Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.
“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”
Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.
He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.
You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.
Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.
“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.
Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.
“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”
Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.
Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.
“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”
His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.
Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?
“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.
Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”
Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.
Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.
Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.
“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”
He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.
Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.
Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.
Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.
“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”
Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.
“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”
Over and over again he fucks into you.
After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.
“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”
You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.
Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.
Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.
“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
Another whine is stopped by his hand.
“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”
Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.
“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”
Arching your back, you press into him more.
“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”
You nod pathetically.
“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”
His thrusts start growing erratic.
You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.
Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.
“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”
He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.
Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.
“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.
“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”
“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”
When you turn your head, your lips smash together.
The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.
You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.
“Fuck me full, daddy.”
Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.
“Say it again.”
“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.
“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.
“Daddy.”
A bite to your neck.
“Again.”
“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”
“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.
With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.
His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.
Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.
His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.
You feel so full.
Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.
He pants heavily into your ear.
Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.
His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.
Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.
But still, he hasn’t pulled out.
Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.
You can’t catch your breath.
“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.
You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.
“I love you.”
Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.
“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.
Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.
It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.
His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.
Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?
Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.
“Are you still hard?” you pant.
Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.
“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”
6K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
Text
everything.
ln x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
taglist
had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3
6K notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 7 months
Text
Lando’s Biggest Fangirl (LN4)
Summary: It’s his girlfriend. Lando’s biggest fangirl is his girlfriend.
Warnings: language, sexual references???domestic lando 🧡🧡
Note: a filler while im super busy with school IM SORRY I COULDNT GET TO THE OSCAR CAUGHT IMAGINE TN BUT IT WILL HAPPEN TMRW I PROMISE. PROMISE.
Tumblr media
y/nnn ass.
Comments:
Ln4andop81 BYE WHAT IS THIS
mclaren slumped
landonorris BABE.
- mclarensgirly idk why but this comment is so cute to me i love bf lando
landonorris everything about this post is so concerning
- y/nnn wdym? I think its perf
- landonorris first of all when did you take that of me and second of all THE CAPTION???
- y/nnn first of all i took it when you were sleeping thats obvi and second of all i like your ass. whats wrong with that?
- landonorris honestly? Nothing
f1fan2 i didnt know i needed this until rn
oscarpiastri your and lando’s relationship scares me sm
- landonorris TF??? WE DIDNT DO ANYTHING TO YOU.
- y/nnn PASTRY???? I was starting to like you too.
- oscarpiastri y/n i dont think thats the way you talk to someone who has that pic of your bf sweating after getting out of his race car.
- y/nnn oscar. this is not a playful matter. hand. them. over.
- mclarensgirly YO OSCAR LEAK THOSE IM BEGGING YOU
- landonorris WHY ARE PEOPLE TAKING PICS OF ME WITHOUT MY CONSENT.
Tumblr media
y/nnn finally got that pic from oscar. safe to say my boyfriend’s teammate is in love with him.
Comments:
mclarensgirly THANK YOU FOR DROPPING THIS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
ln4andop81 YOU ARE A GOD SEND.
landonorris yeah but im in love with you ❤️
- oscarpiastri WDYM “yeah” IM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU????
- y/nnn idk man this pic says something else
- mclarensgirly LANDOSCAR IRL???? AWWWW
- f1fan2 OMG THE SHIP IS SHIPPING 🤭🤭
- oscarpiastri NO.
Tumblr media
y/nnn FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. CHEWING ON THE WALLS. JUMPING UP AND DOWN. GIGGLING. SMACKING MY FIST AGAINST MY HEAD.
Comments:
landonorris WOW.
landonorris youve out done yourself with this caption
landonorris very vivid image of you absolutely going bonkers
- y/nnn thats the POINT hottie 😉😉
- mclarensgirly y/n calling him hottie lol shes just like us
oscarpiastri i want to block you
danielricciardo sometimes i wonder if ive followed the wrong account and this is just a 16 year old girl’s fan page
- y/nnn 16 year old me wouldve been feeling the same type of way as me now is.
- danielricciardo plz never say that again
- landonorris im so concerned
Tumblr media
y/nnn awww look at my baby he’s so cute and babygirl 🤭🤭
Comments:
mclarensgirly the versatility of this woman never fails to amaze me
landonorris the eyes never lie, chica
- y/nnn AWWWW CAUSE YOU WERE LOOKING AT ME IN THIS OMFG AWWWWWWWWWWW
- landonorris i can hear your giggling
- y/nnn im not surprised
mclaren our favorite couple (we are so glad we didn’t come across another violent post on your page) 🧡🧡🧡
- y/nnn dw we will be getting back to regular programming shortly <3
- mclaren take the phone away. landonorris
- landonorris im literally on the other side of the world idk how i can do that
Tumblr media
y/nnn BARK BARK 👹👹👹 GAHDAMN
Comments:
mclaren here we go again…
- y/nnn WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO??? SAY NOTHING??????
- mclaren YES.
- y/nnn WELL THATS NOT AN OPTION.
landonorris well the barking is new!
- y/nnn you say it like youre scared
- landonorris thats cause i am.
oscarpiastri bro
danielricciardo ngl he looks good here
- y/nnn THANK. YOU.
- landonorris thanks dan
- y/nnn SO YOU THANK HIM AND NOT ME????
- landonorris YOU BARKED AT ME.
- y/nnn ITS THE PROPER RESPONSE.
- landonorris NO BABY IT IS MOST DEFINITELY NOT.
- f1fan2 their relationship is my roman empire
Tumblr media
landonorris giving it a try: GAHDAMNNN BABY 🥵
Comments:
mclarensgirly WOWIEEEE SHE DOESNT GET ENOUGH RECOGNITION
F1fan2 she makes me question my sexuality.
Liked by landonorris
ln4andop81 mother of god almighty my jaw is on the floor
mclarensgirly thank you lando for blessing my eyes with this
ln4andop81 SHES SUCH A GREEK GODDESS
y/nnn see i dont like it when you do it 😟
- landonorris are you actually kidding me.
- y/nnn why cant you just leave me to my delusions in peace???
- landonorris bc they arent delusions im literally your boyfriend
- y/nnn YUM SAY IT AGAIN 😩😩😩
- landonorris omfg
5K notes · View notes
tojikai · 9 months
Text
Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
Tumblr media
Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
Tumblr media
PREV | NEXT
Tumblr media
taglist: @forever-war @astral-hydromancy @witchbybirth @coeqi @starshinedowo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @lost-lonnie @haitanifxn @dearsunaa @mari-ho14 @clairdelunaax @anxious-chick @tigerchaeee @megufushi @yeosmie @tsukkisrightpinky @crowiechan @makimais @infinitemoonlight @iloveblogging2 @cloudsinthecosmos @uchiwife @bellaadonnas @lawlietily @lilxnvm @poopoobuttsy @yihona-san06 @luhvbot @sagekko @lugkuic @asbony @uhremmi @kurookinnie @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @lelemnh
a/n: just send an ask if u want to be removed &lt;;33
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
Someone asked me to expand a little on a topic that was buried down in a big chain of reblogs, so I'm doing that here--it's about the use of the archaic "thee", "thou", "thy", etc. in LOTR and what it tells you about characters’ feelings for one another. (I am NOT an expert on this, so it's just what I've picked up over time!)
Like many (most?) modern English speakers, I grew up thinking of those old forms of 2nd person address as being extra formal. I think that's because my main exposure to them was in the Bible ("thou shall not...") and why wouldn't god, speaking as the ultimate authority, be using the most formal, official voice? But it turns out that for a huge chunk of the history of the English language, "thee," "thou," and "thy" were actually the informal/casual alternatives to the formal "you", “your”, “yours”. Like tú v. usted in Spanish!
With that in mind, Tolkien was very intentional about when he peppered in a "thee" or a "thou" in his dialogue. It only happens a handful of times. Most of those are when a jerk is trying to make clear that someone else is beneath them by treating them informally. Denethor "thou"s Gandalf when he’s pissed at him. The Witch King calls Éowyn "thee" to cut her down verbally before he cuts her down physically. And the Mouth of Sauron calls Aragorn and Gandalf "thou" as a way to show them that he has the upper hand. (Big oops by all 3 of these guys!)
The other times are the opposite--it's when someone starts to use the informal/casual form as a way to show their feeling of affection for someone else. Galadriel goes with the formal "you" all through the company's days in Lórien, but by the time they leave she has really taken them to heart. So when she sends them a message via Gandalf early in the Two Towers, she uses "thee" and "thou" in her words to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli because now they're valued friends and allies. And--this is the big one, folks, that was already alluded to in my previous post--Éowyn starts aggressively "thou"ing Aragorn when she is begging him to take her along as he prepares to ride out of Dunharrow. She is very intentionally trying to communicate her feelings to him in her choice of pronoun--an "I wouldn't be calling you "thee" if I didn't love you" kind of thing. And he is just as intentionally using "you" in every single one of his responses in order to gently establish a boundary with her without having to state outright that he doesn't reciprocate her feelings. It's not until much later when her engagement to Faramir is announced that Aragorn finally busts out "I have wished thee joy ever since I first saw thee". Because now it is safe to acknowledge a relationship of closeness and familiarity with her without the risk that it will be misinterpreted. He absolutely wants to have that close, familiar relationship, but he saved it for when he knew she could accept it on his terms without getting hurt.
So, you know, like all things language-based...Tolkien made very purposeful decisions in his word choices down to a bonkers level of detail. I didn’t know about this pronoun thing until I was a whole ass adult, but that’s the joy of dealing with Tolkien. I still discover new things like this almost every time I re-read.
2K notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」
minors dni 💅🏽
Tumblr media
Part 1 Pretty in Red
The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.
And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.
Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.
That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.
And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 
Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.
So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.
You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.
Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”
As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”
People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 
You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.
Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.
Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 
“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 
You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 
You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.
Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.
He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 
He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.
Yes, it was obvious to him now. 
So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 
The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.
He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.
“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 
“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”
You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 
“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.
“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”
Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.
With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.
“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 
No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.
You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 
Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.
No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 
“Well I think that’s quite enough.”
You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.
Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.
When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 
“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”
Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 
Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.
“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.
“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.
“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”
You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 
As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 
Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 
“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”
You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”
Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.
His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.
Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 
His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.
“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 
He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.
You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.
As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 
You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.
You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?
Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 
You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 
“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”
He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”
“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 
“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”
“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”
You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.
You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.
Good, you thought, and went about your work.
Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 
“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.
“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.
When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.
You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.
Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.
But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.
One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.
Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 
A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 
“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.
“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”
She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”
“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 
She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 
An understatement.
You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 
Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.
From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 
Ah, right. There was no body.
That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.
Well, worst case you die. 
You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.
You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.
Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.
You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 
Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.
“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.
“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 
When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 
Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”
You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.
It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”
He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 
“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”
Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”
Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”
“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”
Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”
You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 
You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.
It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.
Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?
All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.
He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.
Back against the large tree, you could only pout.
“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.
You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”
Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.
He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.
Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 
Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—
You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.
It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 
His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.
Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.
It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.
Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 
Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.
His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.
No. Maybe. You nodded yes.
“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”
No. Probably not. Another nod.
His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.
“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?
“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 
Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 
Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.
“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  
Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.
Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.
The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.
Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 
You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.
Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?
Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”
“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 
A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.
“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.
He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”
Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”
Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”
“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.
“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”
“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 
“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”
A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 
Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.
With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 
Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?
“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”
“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”
“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”
You bit your lip. “Touché.”
He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”
With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.
Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
1K notes · View notes
firelilyfox · 2 months
Text
Deadly Eyes
Tumblr media
Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort
If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate
Words: 1k
_______________________________
You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 
Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 
„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 
A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 
You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 
Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 
„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 
„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 
The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 
„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 
A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 
„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 
„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 
„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 
You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 
For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 
Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 
The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 
„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 
„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 
„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 
Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 
„And you did.“ 
He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 
„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 
_____________________________________________
Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3
1K notes · View notes