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#my last words will be There was only one bed
milkteabinniechan · 2 days
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take your time - chan
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pairing: bf! Chan x afab reader ☕//m.list
warnings: just fluff, mentions of menstruation, cramps etc
a/n: this is purely self indulgent. no one asked for this and I cried while I was writing it lmao. thanks for indulging in my insanity<3
This was it. Finally some alone time with him, with Chan. You had both been working so much. Your schedules almost complete opposite of each other. When you fall asleep, he would just be getting home. But now it was your weekend away. You had planned it for a month. Channie had taken the time away from the studio and you had pushed some deadlines back.
There was just one problem: your period. You had painstakingly checked your calendar to make sure this wouldn't happen, but the anxiety of it all much have started you up early. Ah, what perfect irony.
"it's alright, babygirl. I just want to be with you." Chan had repeated throughout your drive to the cabin.
But the guilt bounced off the edges of your brain like ping pong balls. You couldn't think of anything else besides your painful cramps and your failure as a girlfriend. As Chan's car pulled up the long driveway to the cabin, you felt your chest tighten. You knew if you opened your mouth, you'd only apologize again for the 1000th time.
Chan grabbed the suitcase you both shared and led the way to the front door.
"After you, gorgeous." He said with a smile, arm outstretched to the open door.
Jdndnndndjdndjdjd
Jdjdjdj
You stepped inside and were immediately greeted with bright sunlight and the smell of warm cedar. You had booked this same cabin a year prior, and absolutely nothing had changed. It was just perfect. Chan wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took a deep breath in.
"I love you." He whispered low into the curve of your throat.
You quickly spun around and kissed him deeply. You were so incredibly in love. At times it felt like you could drown in this love. You pulled your head back and Channie held your face in his hands. His eyes spoke words of adoration. His lips recited an ode of devotion that your mouth had never tasted before.
Later that night, Chan had set up your electric heating pad and propped a few pillows under your feet. He had asked a few times if you were comfortable, especially when he moved on the bed or readjusted his seat. You apologized just once more that you couldn't, that you wanted to, but you didn't have energy to-
But this last apology was firmly interrupted with a slow, warm kiss.
"You never have to apologize," Chan's eyes locked with yours so he knew you were really listening, "You're in pain. I just want you comfortable and happy, because you always make sure I'm comfortable and happy. Always."
You fell asleep in Channie's arms that night. The fireplace burned until just low, bitter-orange embers flickered against the starlight.
taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics
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princessbrunette · 2 days
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thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”
oh my god??????
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.
the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.
“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.
“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.
“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.
you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.
“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.
“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.
you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”
you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.
“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.
“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
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puck-luck · 2 days
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not-so quickie | jack hughes
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warnings: morning sex, unprotected p in v, thigh riding, dirty talk, jack as a boob guy for SURE, pet names, domesticity, jack x y/n being precious partners fo'eva pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when reader and jack's morning antics leave jack rushing to get to training. wc: 1967
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Whenever you wake up in the same bed as Jack, which was more often than not nowadays, his dick is poking the small of your back or it’s nestled right against the curve of your ass. Either Jack is pulling you into him in his sleep or you’re pressing back into him in your sleep, but the way you get into this position doesn’t actually matter because it always ends in the same outcome: you, awake, because Jack has his morning wood. This morning, the tight grip Jack’s hands has on your hip explains the events of the night perfectly.
Despite the closeness between your bodies, you manage to turn to face Jack without waking him up. You trace the line of his nose, the freckles on his cheeks, and thumb over his bottom lip. 
Still asleep, Jack sighs at your light touch and pulls you as close as he can, slipping his thigh between your legs. You smile, feeling like a beam of light could erupt from your chest with how fond you are for this boy. His eyelashes flutter and the corner of his lip twitches. You can tell he’s fighting to stay asleep and you don’t blame him– the bed is comfortable, warm, and he doesn’t have to be at his off-season training for almost an hour and a half.
“Jacky,” you whisper, watching as his nose scrunches when he loses the battle.
“No,” he groans, voice thick with sleep. He feels blindly for the hem of your big shirt, the only thing you wore to bed last night, and pulls it up until he can pull it over his head. He kisses the space between your boobs before he relaxes and tries to fall back asleep.
You giggle when his breath washes over your chest, partially because it tickles and partially because you know that if Jack could climb into your skin, he would. 
“Good morning, sweet boy,” you say, scraping your fingernails down Jack’s back in soothing movements.
“G’morning,” comes Jack’s muffled reply. “You woke me up.”
When you pull your shirt collar away from your chest to peek down at him, Jack’s got that trademark Hughes pout written across his face. His eyes reflect betrayal, but you know he’s not really mad. 
“You woke me up,” you parrot back at him. 
Jack lets out a “hmph!” of displeasure at that. “Clearly, one of us is lying. That’s not possible.”
“Your little friend poked me awake.” You poke Jack to emphasize your point.
He laughs and his movements shake you. He adjusts you in his arms so you can feel the press of his, still hard, “little friend” against your hip. “This guy?” He asks. 
You hum, nodding. “That’s the one.”
“Poked you awake?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well, that’s not very nice of him, is it?”
“Not at all.”
“What should we do about that?”
“I don’t think he should get to have any fun for the next week.”
Jack retreats from under your shirt at that and hovers above you. “A week?” He repeats, disbelief dripping from his words. “No, pretty girl, that’s cruel and unusual punishment. That’s against the Constitution.”
You laugh and press a hand to his chest. “Since when are you such a patriot?”
“I know my rights.” Jack leans down to kiss the side of your neck, then blows a raspberry in the same spot. 
You shriek and twist away from him, but Jack’s hands keep you firmly underneath him. His thigh keeps you pinned in place and offers some solid pressure to your core. His dick is still pressed against your hip and even though you’re both laughing as you try to evade his wandering lips and fingertips, you can practically feel him throbbing with the contact.
“Jack!” You squeal when he digs his fingers into your sides. You reach down and grab his wrists, trying to stop him from making any more moves, but he easily reverses your grip so he’s holding your wrists instead. He presses them down into the pillow above your head and your breath catches. His eyes are on yours and time suspends, the air thick between you two.
You’re breathing heavily and Jack’s got that barely-there smile on his face. He bites his lip, then licks it.
You’re not even registering how your hips grind down on his thigh until he looks down to where you’re touching. You look too and gasp, remembering that you are completely bare on his thigh when you see the patch of wetness glistening on his skin.
When you look back up, Jack is staring at you with something akin to determination in his hooded eyes.
“Not so upset about being woken up now, huh?” He teases, tensing his thigh and leaning into you.
“Shut up,” you breathe out, tilting your hips up to meet him.
Jack watches you without saying a word for a few minutes, a small smile present on his lips. 
Your eyes are closed, your head is tilted back, your hair is loose and falling in a halo around your head. It’s tangled and tousled from your sleep. You’ve got a fading crease from the fabric of your pillow across your cheek. Your shirt has ridden up to reveal your stomach and Jack reaches out to place a hand on it. He spreads his fingers wide and licks his lips at how his hand looks covering you. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, I want to do this with you forever. 
“Jack,” you moan, finally opening your eyes and looking into his. You continue to roll your hips against his thigh, so dense and strong and so there beneath you.
“Yeah, honey?” He replies, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you need?”
“Want you inside me.” Your jaw drops when Jack thrusts his leg against your core, and stays there.
Jack looks over at the clock on your bedside table and thinks. He’s got a little over an hour before training, but he’ll have to shower and that could take five or thirty minutes depending on if you join him. He needs to cook and eat, which might take twenty minutes. The drive is fifteen minutes if he speeds (he does every time). He looks back at you and melts at the way you’re staring up at him, begging him for more with just your eyes.
“Fuck, can you be quick?” He asks.
“So close already, Jacky, just want you inside.”
Jack rolls onto his back and shoves his boxers down to his knees, pulling you on top of him. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”
You line him up with your entrance and sink down, feeling the breath seep out of you as he fills you up. You move your hips in slow circles, feeling him drag along your walls and press every delicious spot inside of you. You lean forward and stabilize yourself by putting both your hands on Jack’s abdomen. You can feel his abs tense as you start to move up and down on his cock.
He’s staring up at you like you’re a dream. He’s got a hand on your hip and a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down on your smooth skin with his thumb. The only noises between you are the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips and the strangled breaths that fall from Jack’s. You take him how you want him, deep and consistent rather than fast and hard, and Jack wonders if, maybe, this is how life was meant to be lived all along?
When you pull your shirt over your head, Jack’s hand shoots up to knead your breast. He stares, mouth slightly parted, at the way they move when you continue to bounce on top of him and how they fill his palm, the weight of them causing him to smirk with pride. He’s a boob man at heart, always has been, and these tits are his, you’re his. He starts to thrust up into you once he’s got his hands on your tits, loving the way they feel under his fingers so much that he loses track of the fact that you were supposed to be keeping the pace you wanted.
Not that you mind.
You let him fuck up into you, the tip of his dick hitting your deepest point and making you a mess. “Jack,” you whine.
“Yeah, baby, that’s right,” Jack grunts out, one hand dropping to your side to pull you down into him in time with his thrusts up. “Say my name, tell me who’s making you feel good.”
You’re both sweating, a light sheen of sweat glistening on your bodies as the sun peeks through the curtains. If you looked behind you, you’d see the mess that you left on Jack’s thigh earlier. The messy hair that you love so much is starting to stick to his forehead, clumping up in strands that fall across the skin in the most beautiful way. They’re like that because of you, because of how good he’s making you feel, the effort he puts in, and it’s that knowledge that brings you one step closer to your orgasm. 
“You look so,” you say, losing the words when Jack tilts his hips to meet that one spot inside of you. “Oh, fuck, Jack.”
“Gorgeous,” Jack tells you, finishing the sentence that you had started and abandoned. “Everything I ever wanted, my pretty girl, my baby. Wanna see you come, love, wanna see you make a mess all over my cock. C’mon, baby, come for me.”
He continues to urge you as your moans grow in pitch. He continues to slam into you and it’s the tortured whimper he lets out when you clench down on him that sets off your orgasm. You almost collapse on top of him as you move your hips frantically with his stuttering ones. Your hands press on his chest, your breasts dangling right there, right in front of him, and Jack comes. 
“Fuck, baby,” he whines, looping an arm around your waist and fucking up into you wildly as he comes. He bites down and sucks on the skin of one of your tits as he comes down, pulling away to reveal a patch of his saliva that will certainly turn red, then purple, then blue over the next few hours. 
You both breathe heavily after the high of your orgasms, with you gently rising off of Jack and removing him from the warmth of your pussy.
“Good morning,” Jack says again when you cuddle into his side, your head resting on his arm and your fingertips dancing over his stomach.
“Good morning,” you reply with a smile when his dick twitches at your movements.
Jack throws a glance over the top of your head towards the clock.
“Mm,” Jack groans as he pushes himself up. He kisses you, long and soft, before he gets up to go to the bathroom. “That didn’t go as quick as I needed it to. Now I have to rush.”
“You’re complaining?” You tease.
“Never. Never complaining about getting to spend time with my pretty girl.”
You beam as you hear the shower turn on. You slip on one of Jack’s dirty shirts that he left on the bedroom floor the night before and get out of bed yourself, still feeling the remains of the morning’s adventures on your thighs. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can cut down on Jack’s time to get ready by making his breakfast for him, and he’ll reward you by bending you over the counter. He can never deny you another round when he sees himself dripping out of you so beautifully. That one, if you can swing it, will actually have to be quick.
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notes: hi good morning readers yes here i am back again on a monday morning with more smut (i fear... i be thinking about this topic too much). and yet i am running out of things to write about because i do not want to write about the same three actions (a little fingering, a little oral, a little fucking) in every post because i fear that will get old for y'all. MORAL OF THE STORY: SEND REQUESTS! SEND ASKS! SEND COMMENTS ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE PLAYERS AND PEOPLE YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT! i need help <3 (yes, @johncena2020 i will eventually get to your Mr. Marino. i will.)
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andysorbit · 3 days
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The Rock of Gibraltar (M)
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Hard dom!Jeno x Fem!reader
Please support by reblogging!!
Minors, fuck off.
word count: 1k
warnings: overstimulation, CNC vibes, oral sex, penetration (reader receiving) dacryphylia, he's a hard dom and he's a lil mean, spitting, face slapping, degradation, many cream pies yay 🙂‍↔️
note: hi idk this just happened but hooray to my first fic after my url change! for those of you that may not know, I am Andy from neoculturecollectives :)
also, @sharonxdevi this is for you my dear 🙂‍↕️
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Your thighs tremble as Jeno greedily laps and sucks at your cunt. His arms circle around your thighs and pin you down firmly; the lewd sounds of his greedy mouth mingling with your weak cries for mercy.
But Jeno isn't merciful.
Jeno likes to gaslight you a little. Always knowing how far is too far or not far enough, he gets into your head and stays there; torturing, teasing, manhandling. He reduces you to a sobbing, drooling pile of flesh and bones with a heart that only beats for him. He'll tell you anything and you'll take it as gospel and when he decides to, he'll tell you something else and that's just how it is.
He kisses your cunt sloppily, tongue flicking over your clit as your wetness slicks up his chin. You reach down to push his head away and he lets you.
He even lets you weakly drag yourself away from him inch by inch. You whimper as you move, thighs trembling violently as they clumsily help you scramble back. Jeno sits up and smiles wickedly. He palms his cock through his black boxers as he watches you.
He likes this game of lion and lamb. He likes the fight; he relishes in the way he gets to wrestles you into submission just because he can- because he knows you'll struggle against him but let him win because you love his power.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh?" Jeno chuckles. You make it to the headboard and relief washes over you as you savor however many more seconds he's giving you before he continues his torture on your trembling body.
"Daddy, I- I- I-"
Jeno rolls his eyes, "Daddy, I- I-I- Oh God, give it a rest, would you?" he says mockingly. You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.
"I asked you a question, baby... You can answer me like a big girl," his voice floats into your ears sweetly, tightening your tummy and comforting you. You open your eyes and find his trained on you.
"Daddy," You whimper. "Yes, princess?" he hums. "I... I don't... remember..." You say between hiccuped breaths. His smiles softens and you release the last of the tension from your body, melting against the mattress as he looks you over with unassuming eyes.
"You don't remember what, sweetheart?" he asks you gently. He still hasn't touched you and your muscles have slowly stopped twitching.
"I dont remember your question, daddy. M'sorry," You warble. Jeno sighs dejectedly, "I'm always right about girls like you but I try my absolute best to give you the benefit of my very big doubt but you don't make it easy."
He grabs ahold of your ankle and you yipe softly as he slowly drags you back down to the edge of the bed, "Girls like you are so fucking stupid. Just the thought of getting stuffed shuts down your basic critical thinking. It's call and response, Y/n. That is as basic as it gets. Daddy calls, you respond," he patronizes; still pulling you back to him agonizing slow, "Now I asked you, where the fuck you thought you were going... I didn't tell you to move and I'm fucking positive that I didn't hear you ask me for a damn thing."
You cry softly, "Daddy... please. I can't take another one. S'too much..."
Jeno's brooding eyes roll once more, "I don't believe you and if you're smart, you can tell me why I don't."
"Because I'm... I'm a whore."
"That's right... and?"
"And a whore doesn't stop until daddy wants to stop."
Jeno nods slowly, "I love it when that lightbulb goes off for you. I hardly ever get to see it happen but you look so pretty when you use your brain."
You sniffle as he finally pulls you back down to him completely and hovers over you. The chain adorned around his neck sparkles and you look at the pendant with your initials accented with tiny diamonds before it rests against your clammy chest. Jeno places soft kisses against your throat then up to your mouth, "Open your mouth nice and wide for daddy," he breathes. You do as you're told and he spits into your mouth.
A chill rages through your body and he does it again.
"I'm gonna be nice to you- just this once, okay?" he chortles.
You nod and his hand comes down across your cheek before grabbing your face roughly; he leans in almost close enough to press his mouth to yours, "I can't hear a fucking nod, Y/n- I said I'm gonna be nice to you but I never said I was gonna let you disrespect me. If I ask you a question, answer it. Your mouth has to be able to do something besides suck my dick."
The pain goes right to your abused pussy and he knows it. His free hand eases down between your thighs and he strokes you again.
"Daddy," You sob harder. You know he has no mercy and he pulls you up into a seated position; your upper body totally supported by him as he begins to drag one more tortured orgasm out of you. Tears stain your cheeks as he smiles devilishly.
"Daddy... oh my God," You cry. Jeno drags his tongue up, up. up; collecting your tears on his tongue with a deep chuckle, "One more. Show me how strong you are and take one more."
You whine, "Ye- o- ok-ay... Okay- dad-dy," You sputter out. "That's my good little whore. One more and daddy's gonna turn you over and fuck that used little pussy."
You cum hard and broken; sobs rattling your body as Jeno's fingers come to a stop. He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before he's turning you over onto your stomach, "Ass up," he growls, "Arch your back... Just like that. Show off like you did earlier. Show daddy."
You obey his commands and leave yourself completely exposed and at his whim; flinching when his hand comes down hard on your ass, "Look at daddy's little fuck toy." Jeno grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you up onto your knees. He doesn't give you a moment to brace yourself as he drives his cock into soaking wet heat. You cry out again; head lolling to the side as he fucks you relentlessly. The head of his cock nudges deliciously against your cervix with every merciless thrust he delivers.
"You feel how deep daddy is? I know you do. Nobody’s cock can reach that deep like mine can. You were made for me. This is all you'll ever be good for, Y/n. Just a hole to fill with my cum."
His voice drifts into your ears and you nod in agreement; too fucked out know your up from your down, you try you best to say something to him.
"Dad- dy- fuck... Th- ank- you- dad- dy," the words tumble out of your mouth slowly and they feel as if they're not even coming from your own mouth.
Jeno laughs wickedly as he circles an arm around your neck and shoves his free hand between your thighs; fingers massaging your sensitive clit. You try in vain to push his hand away from you.
Jeno, being your immovable mountain, continues his attack on you with no effort at all. He's a powerhouse, using any opportunity to subdue you; he gets off on watching you struggle to free yourself. You both get off on it.
"Daddy! Please, daddy... I can't... I-"
"Oh shut up- you fucking love this."
And he's right.
You do so nod and you sob and you relish in the tightening of his arm around your neck as he brings you closer to another nearly unbearable orgasm.
"Daddy!"
The word comes out as a plea and as a thank you. Jeno knows you appreciate this. He does too. He also knows that he's finally broken you and that if he goes on, you'll need the safeword so he does what made you fall in love with him in the first place:
He begins grounding you so he can put you back together until the next time.
"You did so well, kitten. We're gonna stop now, okay? Count down from ten with me, okay? I'm so proud of you."
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applejuicebegood · 2 days
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The Softest of Jason Todd HCs
Fem!Reader A/N: Some of these were originally conceived for the lovely, talented, wonderful @midnightorchids. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FALLOW HER RIGHT NOW
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Jason fell for you slowly. It was the kinda falling that took on the form of severe distraction and confusion during his patrol time. The only spot in his second life he had crafted into hours of precise control and expectancy. He hated how, as he was clicking a mag into his handgun, his mind would flash to your smiling, blushed face. He hated how you would unintentionally make him trip and stumble over the roof-tops of Gotham. He hated how recalling the chime of your laugh made his hands sweaty under his leather gloves. He hated how he had to take off his helmet in the seclusion of an abandoned wear-house because recalling how his hand slipped in to your on your last date made his face heat up to the point where he felt like he would pass out.
Once he realised that the nervous pounding in his gut whenever your shoulders brushed was in-fact caused from a growing crush on you, he panicked. The eventual confession was awkward and stumbled, him making it clear that he needed time and room to figure it out. He took your smaller hands into his, promising that no matter what, for now he would figure it out with you at his side. Of course you agreed, squeezing his hands in confirmation.
Ya'll are soulmates, period. Very big 'he is half of my soul' energy. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Your words have already been said by the other before you can string them together in your head. You share in each-others grief and rage. Five years into the relationship, Jason knew you so well (and being raised in a family of detectives) that you would never have to explain your frustration or annoyance - and on days like that he would always be ready to wrap you up in a weighted blanket, forcing a cup of raspberry tea into your cold hands and his headphones over your ears with one of his audiobooks already playing. Carrying you to your shared bed for you to fall asleep leaned up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tightly around you.
Despite his availability of wealth and status, he keeps your date-night very low-key and personal. On his off days from Red-Hooding, both of you would have cooking nights. Where you would sway and giggle with the slow drift of music coming from the kitchen radio. You would make something hearty and filling. You wanting to see Jason sigh in the comfort of good food. You both would curl up with your steaming bowls on your couch, probably watching Tangled (at your request). It's all extremely cozy, Jason smiling into your skin as gratitude blooms in his chest for you. For having created this safe, hidden expanse of reassurance. All while the harsh Gotham wind whipped just outside your window.
This man is smitten- he worships you entirely. His is in awe of you, even as both of you grow old, his love and his care for you never relents or dwindles.
Ya'll would go to museums and art galleries and he would point at statues and paintings of goddess and queens and say 'you', under his breath. It's so horribly corny but it makes you hold his arm just a bit tighter every time.
After you both moved in together, he developed a habit of making your coffee alongside his and bringing it to you in bed in the mornings. This eventually just became your routine on weekends when you both had enough time to bask in the slow creeping of sunlight over each-others skin.
He's a romantic at heart, a part of him you had to slowly unearth under years of torment and blood. You were the one to force him out of his cave of isolation and into the reality of him deserving softness and joy. It's a dept you have assured him he doesn't need to pay back. That doesn't stop him from trying.
Giggles and smiles like a little boy if you kiss his forehead, specifically at the roots of his white streak. You think it's one of the prettiest things about him.
Unintentional scary dog when you guys are out together. He's got his hand laced with yours or floating somewhere on your hip or lower back. It's mostly due to his anxiety, constantly having his head on a swivel. It's all heightened due to the fact that he has the most precious, important individual standing next to him. Whether it's at one of his Dad's galla's or trips to the local library, he likes to have you near him.
Bitch has multiple playlists made about/for you (a lot of Noah Kahn and TV Girl)
Example:
A/N: I may be gay but I have a very special place for sappy Jason in my heart. Please send in any requests regarding our boy (or any of the bat boys or girls)- I really love writing for the people in this fandom.
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Text
Punished by the Shadowsinger
Headcanon - Azriel x Reader - Smut
After you take teasing Azriel too far at training, he shows you exactly how he feels about your insolence.
ACOTAR After Hours 🌶️
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Warnings: This is filth, MDNI, 18+ only, rough deep-throating, prior consent given by parties involved
- You’d been teasing him all day, exaggerating every stretch at Valkyrie training just for his viewing pleasure
- You knew he couldn’t ogle you stretched out like that, he was a professional.
- His shadows, however, were not.
- They reported exactly how deliciously arched your back was, the way the curvature of your spine met the curve of your ass so enticingly.
- Yes, his eyes were on training but that feather in his jaw and those whirring shadows told you just how in for it you were.
- The moment the last trainee left, he apparated directly before you, growling “You’re coming with me.”
- Not that you would have resisted but he gripped your wrist anyway, winnowing you straight to your shared bed chamber. Your leathers vanished in a moment, his as well.
- “How many taps, Y/N?” He ground out, tone predatory.
- “Three” you whispered.
- “Louder, Y/N. This will not be a gentle experience for you.”
- Your core turned molten at the threat in those words. “Three taps and you stop.”
- “Nice to see you have it in you to be a good girl after all” he mocked.
- Your eyes blew wide as he pushed you back onto the chaise.
- “Touch yourself for as long as you can.” He spoke with a saccharine grin.
- You didn’t have time to contemplate what he meant before one leg was braced on the seat of the lounge to your right and the knee of the other was propped on the back of the lounge to your left.
- “Open” he commanded, and you did.
- He gave a few cautionary thrusts into the warmth of your mouth, reveling in the little moans choking out of you as he did.
- You were lucky to be given the warm up thrusts, knowing that though half his length was filling your mouth now, the rest would be down your throat momentarily.
- You let out a whimper at the friction of your finger rubbing circles on your clit.
- “Aw,” he cooed “feels so good touching yourself like that doesn’t it?”
- You could only let out a hum as his thrusts quickened, inching deeper.
- “Sure didn’t feel good having to remain professional while my shadows lusted over that perfect fucking ass of yours.” His voice turned to a growl and you loved it.
- A riled up Azriel meant a vocal Azriel, and despite the harshness of his words - he would stop the moment you gave him those three taps - relaxing you further.
- Looking up, you could see the cut of his abs contracting with his thrusts, a scarred hand reaching down caressing beneath your jaw. “Ready for this, little Valkyrie?”
- “Mhmmm.” You hummed, silver already dusting the corners of your eyes.
- “Remember your taps if you need them baby.”
- You gave him a squeeze of reassurance, fingers digging into a muscled thigh. You were ready.
- And if someone walked in on you in that moment, they would have seen Azriel’s wings tucked in tight, his firm, rounded ass moving in time with the thrusts of his cock fucking your throat so deep that you couldn’t breathe.
- Your fingers were no longer able to rub your clit as they dug into the cushions, trying to keep yourself from sliding down the chaise.
- Azriel’s primal groans sent vibrations through you, the lack of oxygen making you light headed in the most erotic of ways.
- You gagged, throat contracting around his thick shaft, sending him over the edge. His hot release shooting down your throat.
- Azriel immediately pulled out, a long string of drool connecting your mouth to his shaft.
- Hopping off the chaise and kneeling down, he looked into you eyes with love and adoration. “You never tapped.” Catching your breath, you gave him a small smile, shaking your head no.
- “Fuck, Y/N. You are something else.” He shook his head in astonishment. With that he scooped you up and carried you to the bed.
- Laying you down gently he climbed over your naked form, those hazel eyes boring into yours with love. “Promise me you’ll let me know if I ever take things too far?”
- You grinned. “I promise. You’ll never break me. I trust you.”
- He gave a gentle smile in return. “Ready for your reward?”
- You bit your lip, the corners turning upward, giving an eager shake of your head, “Yes”
- Bringing a broad palm to the side of your face, his nimble fingers brushed a loose-strand of hair behind your ear. “Good.”
- And with that he moved down the bed and feasted on you like a male starved, bringing you to climax three times.
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wlntrsldler · 23 hours
Text
THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN
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synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.
series masterlist | previous | next
Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.
"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"
There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.
Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.
"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."
"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 
Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 
Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.
Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."
Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 
His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.
"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.
You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.
"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."
He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.
"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."
Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."
"Maybe."
"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."
You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"
"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 
Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"
"In a few hours."
"Oh."
"Are you upset?"
"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."
"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."
"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."
"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 
"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.
He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.
Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 
“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 
“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 
“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 
“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 
“You are more than what your father thinks.” 
He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 
When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 
There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 
“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.
“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 
Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 
Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.
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astonmartingf · 1 day
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YOU'RE IN MY MIND, IM IN YOUR SHADOW ; FA14
fernando alonso x ferrari teammate! reader . . . after getting involved in a race accident with fernando, you're left with the repercussions of that crash
amgf accidents, crashes, and hospitals, it's just angst uhm yeah, it's angst, who compelled me to do this 😀🫵 literally no one ever but enjoy 👍 AHAHAHA. i bet you weren't expecting this but here you go
One blink and it all came crashing down.
Literally.
It all happens so fast, it's usually how it goes, one second you're trying to maneuver into a turn, the next you feel your teammates' front wing behind your back. And from then all you see was black.
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"Miss LN? If you can hear us please blink your eyes." Wincing, you pull back from the glaring light in the room. Immediately the smell of antiseptic and bleach fills your nose, scrunching from the overwhelming scent wafting in the room.
You blink adjusting from the light, gulping at the dry feeling on the back of your throat, you don't attempt to talk. Closing your eyes, you shake your head, ignoring the questions as doctors and staff hover over your bed.
You knew better than to misbehave, it wasn't the doctor's fault, they were just doing their job, something you didn't do clearly as you got into a crash.
What a rookie mistake— you couldn't care less about the pulsating pain all over your body, knowing fully well they won't hurt as much as the blow of being dropped off by Ferrari.
You knew deep down they were going to choose him. Fernando Alonso, teammate, rival, lover.
Opening your eyes, you're greeted with fewer people in your room. Mainly your manager, physio, a few members from Ferrari, and Flavio Briatore. It only dawned on you what had happened.
You crashed onto Fernando Alonso, and right now his manager is in front of you. Just how long were you under? How much damage was done to the car? There were so many questions going through your head, mainly of Fernando, second of your career. What was going to happen after this?
"Where—" The dryness of your throat scratches back at you, coughing from the unexpected friction. You accept the bottle of water offered to you, it was only then you realized the sore and numb feeling of your body.
You gasp as the bottle slips from your fingers, leaving you staring at your manager, tears welling down your eyes. The feeling of vulnerability seeps through as you look away and stare at the pool of water beside you.
You watch your team tiptoeing around you, their eyes filled with pity. It's sickening. Lifting your blanket you catch a glimpse of the bruises littering your body, shifting in the bed your face scrunches feeling you back burning in pain.
Your manager holds a new bottle of water in front of you, this time with a drinking straw on it as you glance around the room looking for inkling clues on Fernando's whereabouts. Your thoughts trail back moments before the race.
Sneaking in his room beside yours, away from the eyes of the cameras capturing every moment of your rivalry. You still hold the warmth, the lingering feeling of his kiss before the race began. His words, whispering sweet nothing in your ears, replaying every moment before you stepped into your car. It was flashing in front of your eyes, it only scared you more.
He was nowhere to be found, and the silence around you only made it more frustrating, they could only stare at you with the sickening pity on their eyes. No one stepped in to talk first, the rhythmic beeps of the machine connected to your fingers supplying the only source of sound remaining in your room.
Pressing the button, all eyes turn towards the television. Coincidentally you're greeted with the familiar Ferrari Red on the screen, you notice your car turning on the familiar corner before being flipped in the air. It was only then you realized that you were watching Fernando's on boards.
Your eyes scan the news headline in red, "FERRARI DRIVERS' YN LN AND FERNANDO ALONSO INVOLVED IN A COLLISION DURING LAST WEEK'S GRAND PRIX." The date on the other side of the screen indicates the day of the week— it's been three days. Three days it took for you to wake up, with Flavio in your room it must mean one thing.
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"He's in a coma."
The words the doctor said as you sat in a wheel chair, in front of Fernando's door. The smile on your face dissipates, frozen in front of his hospital room. Fernando wasn't awake yet. With shaky hands, you drop them off the doorknob, instead you push yourself back to your room.
You couldn't bear looking at him. It would be unfair to blame it all on him, but it hurts you more that he was the one who crashed into you, and look at what he had done. Not just physically, you're on the verge of breaking down every second of the day, tears pulling at the corners of your eyes and you couldn't say anything.
To your team, you were just mourning the loss of the race and points, but deeper you were worried about Fernando, he was your boyfriend for God's sake yet you couldn't do anything. You couldn't even defend him as rumors and articles slowly come out about the crash, with Fernando's ulterior motive making you lose points for the Driver's Championship.
You knew what they were saying wasn't true, but with the isolation and avoidance of the situation you slowly begin to spiral in the what ifs and question if there truly had been some power play before the race.
Fernando wouldn't do that to you? He wouldn't... And as the hours turn into days, your desperation for answers gets clearer by the day. You find yourself sneaking into his room, wishing nothing but to pour your heart out in tears, and crying yourself to sleep. But you couldn't.
You couldn't even let yourself be vulnerable for a second, because to them, you were rivals before teammates. You just sit and stare at him, watching as he breathes peacefully, unaware and no clue of the commotion he has caused.
You can't help but laugh at the situation you're in. Three years ago, you'd laugh and pray for his downfall, only three years later you would find yourself crawled up in his sheets, grasping for warmth, getting the last minutes of sleep before sneaking out of his hotel room and playing the character of his racing rival.
You smile to yourself, wiping the tears off your eyes, "I'm not mad at you. I don't care if you planned this, you could crash at me for the rest of the race, I'm telling you please wake up. If you blame me, I would take it, I'd take that, tell me you hate me. Tell me it's my fault, I just want you back."
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By some stroke of luck, or that your prayers had worked Fernando woke up the next day. You woke up to the sound of whispers in your room.
You heard from nurses that the patient from 3314 had woken up. You find yourself preparing to meet him, looking forward to a nurse inviting you to his room.
What wishful thinking.
It had been days since Fernando woke up, yet you were still blind to his condition. Despite feeling better, and walking to and from the hallways you haven't heard anything about Fernando.
"Good morning YN, we're going to visit Fernando today." You raise your brows at Flavio's words, unsure of his implications. You knew of their close relationship, but you both decided to keep your relationship under the wraps— as tight as can be, that really there are only two people involved, you and Fernando himself.
The rest of the world only saw you as racing rivals and nothing more, which made you bitter given the situation. There was always an ulterior motive behind the interactions with you two, and even now, you couldn't believe yourself for staying away from him so long.
Maybe it's because you were focused on your healing, and the wishful thinking that Fernando would also keep you in his thoughts as he recuperated, albeit slower than you, you prayed that you would meet him soon, despite being placed two rooms apart, you barely saw glimpses of him, much to your dismay.
But maybe it was for the better, your mind immediately blanked out after his doctor spoke about his condition. His words pass through your ear and out the other, standing still with both feet glued in the same spot, hands growing sweaty and bracing yourself from the impact of his words.
"He— Fernando has amnesia? Is that what you're telling me?" Your voice is slowly thinning out, shaking away the tears building up your eyes, your heartbeat picking the pace as you're left to fully comprehend what the doctor said. Giving yourself little to no time to prepare.
You stop Flavio from opening the door, "Does he remember you?" You watch Flavio nod his head in confidence.
"I doubt he will forget you, you're his rival out there, he's been asking about you since he woke up."
Your ears perk up at his words, nodding to yourself. Of course he'd say that, Flavio doesn't know a thing. You let go of his hands, along with the nerves building up.
Trying to not let your excitement show, you follow Flavio into the room, matching his pace hiding behind his figure to hide yourself from Fernando. Flavio moves aside and you're struck, slowly taking in Fernando's state, the bandages no longer crowned on top of his head as you scan the healing bruises on his body.
"LN. You're here to pray for my downfall? I bet it was your recklessness that caused this crash." The coldness of his voice felt like water splashed all over your face, throwing you off.
Flavio instinctively moved you behind him, shocked at his hostility.
You stumble behind, lost in your thoughts, he hasn't called you that since you were together. You dare your eyes to catch a glance at his, it was no longer filled with the same softness he cast upon you when you're alone. Instead you were met with the cold glare in his eyes, "What are you staring at for? Think you can beat me now that I'm injured? You better watch your back LN."
LN. He hasn't called you by your last name for the last two years, not in public anyway. When you two were alone, it was always, amor— or some stupid nickname to set you off.
You deny the idea of him forgetting about you two, thinking if this was one of his games, a rather cruel one to play, but it wasn't as if you'd have it any other way. You look through his eyes once more, ignoring the clawing feeling in your heart, the pressing signals in your head to stop, but you can't help but try once more. Maybe this time, he'll realize and see it in your eyes. The relationship you have together, buried in the memories of your longing eyes. "Do you really not remember me?"
Fernando rolls his eyes with a 'tsk' "Now you're getting annoying, I told you LN, stop with this good girl act and get out of my room."
You don't need to be told more, turning your feet, you feel the room blur as your vision shakes, the ringing in your ear grows as you make your way to your room. Muffling the sound of your tears, you feel your legs weaken, back leaning against the door, shaking your head in disbelief.
Fernando was finally awake. Fernando survived the crash and is finally healing.
But this Fernando has forgotten four long years of history. Four years ago, back when all you were to Fernando was another rookie in his way, filled with hatred and not love.
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Text
guilty as sin? pt. 1
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paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings: gay awakening?? toxic relationship, slightly suggestive if you squint
a/n: bc this song is the only thing i think abt and it’s so paige coded
you grew up not religious, but in a religious family. you were told that being gay was wrong, and ignoring the voice inside you, you told yourself you were straight.
you were in a toxic relationship which you knew was toxic beucase of the things people had told you. when you started classses at uconn in 2021, you boyfriend was also attending uconn. you knew about paige, but had never been much into basketball although your boyfriend was.
he took you to a uconn wbb game and sat there as you waited for the game to start. and suddenly, you saw paige. you never seen her looking so beautiful, and felt like soemthing about you had been changed when suddenly you and paige made eye contact as you were sitting pretty close to the court.
uconn won the game, and you acted you payed attention on the ride your boyfriend gave you up your dorm knowing you only had eyes for paige the entire game. “yea i had fun,” you say tiredly.
the next day you had a 11 am class, and as you walked into the lecture hall you spotted someone across the hall from you. paige. you looked over to her in the crowded hallway, and quickly looked back. you walked into the lecture hall before paige, as you sped up the pace of your walk in the hallway.
you sat down closer to the back in the middle of a empty row. you sat down and got your computer out of your bookbag, when you heard someone. “hey, can i sit here?” you heard a deep voice say, it was paige. “oh uh yea that’s fine.” you say with a smirk, paige sits down also with a smirk. while you wait for the professor to arrive to class, you and paige had conjured up some small talk, when suddenly paige turned to you, “wait, were you at my game last night?” paige says with a grin curling in the corner of her mouth.
“oh yea i was. you did good out there.” you say with slight panic. “oh thanks, who was that guy with you?” paige says leaning back. “that was my boyfriend.” you say with slight embarassment.
“ohhhh.. okay.” paige said with a slight giggle. you heard her murmur something under her breath, “i could change that.” you heard. “what was that?” you say with even more embarassment than before. “oh nothing sorry,” paige said as the professor started talking.
you and paige didn’t talk the rest of the class since you were taking notes. as you two stood up and started packing up to leave she looked at you, “hey what’s your name?” paige said. “oh ny name is (yn),” you say with a smirk. paige starts away with a smile. “well it was nice talking to u see you later.”
as you walk back to your dorm, your mind is overstimulated with thiughta about paige. was she filming with you? what did she muffle under her breath that i couldn’t hear? and is paige my gay awakening?
later that night you lay in your bed watching instagram reels when suddenly you see a small ‘1’ appear on your notification box. you tap on it,
“@paigebueckers started following you”
you smile and quickly follow her back. when you get a notification from dms and you assumed it was paige.
P: yo
Y: hey how’d you find my instagram? lmao not complaining just wondering.
P: ma you told me your name
ma. the word paige typed sent chills down your spine and wetness in between your thighs.
P: what’s ur number?
Y: *** *** **** :)
*over texts*
P: do you have any classes tmrw?
Y: yea one at 9
P: wanna come over at 5?
Y: yea that sounds good :)
P: see u then ma good night
there it was again. ‘ma’
you smile into your pillow and when your done, you pick up your phone, scrolling in your phone app to find your boyfriends contact and press call.
B: hey ba-
Y: hey yea we’re over
B: what the fuc-
you hang up.
220 notes · View notes
violet-eng · 2 days
Text
Fem!reader married to a Neuvillette who loves not her but someone else | NSFW 🔞 + 😢
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In this one I'm going out on a limb, because I presume without any argument other than my own intuition, that Neuvillette and Focalors had a platonic relationship with feelings never confessed out of fear or genuine ignorance of them (like Violet Evergarden, yes). But you are Neuvillette's wife and so you will fall victim to his coldness when Focalors dies.
Includes NSFW with the reader and angst. Never mistreatment because Neuvi is a gentleman. NOTHING BETWEEN FOCALORS/FURINA AND NEUVI NONONO
⚠️ Warnings: established relationship between Neuvillette and reader, implied cheating, unloving and unprotected sex, pregnancy, sex during pregnancy, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of death. More sex between spouses bc yes.
mndi, if you feel unconfortable reading this then don't. Your mental health is first.
6k words, not edited.
💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️💧💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️
You had seen him crestfallen the last few weeks, after the flood, self-conscious in his own thoughts, drowning in his remorse and cowardice.
Neuvillette does not understand human feelings, not at all, though love is supposed to be a passion that transcends the natural laws of evolution. Focalors had been his friend, his companion, in the bruised body of a puppet that felt so real that its strings seemed invisible.
There was no denying the deep affection that had grown between the two, Neuvillette and Focalors, two wandering souls, roaming the world with ancestral antiquity, companions destined to the sound of agony and separation, haunted by the solemn ignorance of innocent creatures.
Love… what was it but a word in a spoken contract.
Neuvillette had married you months ago, a happy and superficially authentic marriage. You had captured his attention, and his knowledge of humans, as the Great Chief Justice, could be satiated by knowing you, a faithful human companion, devoted wife, and sublime lover.
The bed was the only moment where you two connected, where, to the rhythm of the waves, Neuvillette penetrated his marital responsibility towards your depths, that which he considered appropriate towards his so-called wife, who, in a frenzy of pleasure, crushed his pale back with her nails, set to music by the melodious moans he tore from your sweaty breast… There was no connection beyond the sexual, for as a dragon, despite the years, it is very difficult for him to connect with humans.
Focalors was an oceanid, and he was a dragon sovereign. Both turned human. Nothing more to add, two rulers abandoned by the world they were supposed to protect, what would grow between them but pure trust and admiration that would obviously develop into love?
Neuvillette didn't understand. Not until that moment. He had been deaf to his innocent heart pounding anxiously every time Focalors entered his office in her unruly human form, rampant in color and expression. He had been unaware of the flame of satisfaction in his chest that burned hot when she spoke to him in the privacy of their conversations in the theater…he did not understand, not until he understood that he would eventually lose her.
He cried, for the first time he let someone see him cry in his human form. Focalor's words, so exquisite before him, ethereal in her ornate louvered dress, echoed in his head…and in his heart… ….
"Hydrodragon, Hydrodragon… don't cry," she whispered… and he, very reluctant to leave her, wished with all his might to leap upon her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He would flee with her on his lap, in his draconic form, leaving Fontaine and everyone else to their fate.
No… a Sovereign would not do that… he would not do that… for to abandon his oath would deserve the most dastardly punishment of all. And maybe, just for thinking that, he deserved what happened next.
"Farewell, Neuvillette," her words, pure in his human form. His companion, his friend, his mentor… his soul mate, tossed away like the foam on the shore of a beach.
Death was a human concept, without transcendence over evolution… love, however, was another story.
He came home like a soldier after the war, he came back without a part of himself… he came back to his boring life married to a woman he doesn't even love, at least not the way you really deserve him.
"Darling," you offer him a glass of fresh spring water from Quiaoying Village, because you know he doesn't like anything else, especially in dark times like these, a glass of the freshest, coldest water suits him wonderfully.
He drinks from the glass, almost as stoic as ever, though his face is stiffer than usual. Routine is becoming overwhelming for both of you, and Neuvillette is suspiciously distant from you, more so than usual. You stroke his cheek while he sleeps to help him fall asleep, you make him breakfast in the mornings and serve him dinner when he comes home, all without so much as a hello.
You suspect the worst, because your friends have planted the idea in your head that Neuvillette has a mistress, and not far from the truth, his heart belongs to another.
After the flood, many had left Fontaine, and perhaps your husband's mistress was among them, or so you thought. How painful it had been for you to see him break for another woman, to see him crack at his most human for a heart that was not yours.
Overwhelmed, you write him a letter with the idea of leaving him and traveling to Sumeru with one of your friends in search of a new life, but everything is cut short when your symptoms begin. Pregnancy was imminent, after all the nights the Iudex had taken you into your bed, it was to be expected.
You receive Neuvillette that night, frustrated by your own doubts, debating between informing him of your condition or simply fleeing to new horizons with your child. It is so difficult to decide when your husband is the Iudex of Fontaine… and when you care about his reputation because you love him sincerely.
There is no need to search for words when your husband is a dragon with keen senses, for as soon as he set foot in the house, he sensed the scent of his brood stirring within you. The Iudex's interest, however, lay in whether or not you would confess to him.
"A package arrived for you this afternoon," Neuvillette comments as he sips the tea you prepared for him, pointing to a bag on the front table.
"Ah, yes," you say half-heartedly, taking the bag in your hands, emotions spilling from your chest as you crumple the paper between your fingers.
You sigh deeply, thinking that maybe this gift is your way of saying goodbye to him, of silently making amends and apologizing for something that is absolutely not your fault other than falling in love with the wrong man.
You take out of the bag an encyclopedia, a thick book with thick paste and yellow pages, brought from Sumeru, recommended by the very scribe of the Academya, a book of human anthropology for your dear strange husband, who seems to have a real interest in human behavior. Neuvillette looks at it as if it were a revelation, as incredulous as he is moved, touched by your gift and your attention to his interests. You try to say something, to tell him that you are pregnant, but you stop when you hear him speak.
"I know you're expecting my child," Neuvillette says, without going into the details of how he found out, touching the rim of the teacup, a wedding gift. "Whatever you need, tell me, health, food, you know I will cover all expenses."
"I want to go to Sumeru," you confess in an almost whispered tone, your words seeming to be carried away by the wind rushing through the window.
"That wouldn't be good," for a Hydro Dragon hatchling, of course it wouldn't. "You're too young to venture into a new nation, especially one with new leaders like Sumeru, not to mention the dry climate."
You don't argue, knowing he's right, and decide to simply retreat to your room and wallow in your defeat.
Neuvillette, however, with what little empathy he has generated, caresses the book with his fingertips, gliding over the fine markings carved into the cover.
A gift, he had never given you a gift before, but you had given him a gift by taking the initiative.
The months passed quickly. The precariousness of your relationship, increasingly dry on your part, provokes something in Neuvillette.
He looks at you from his side of the bed, the way you sleep peacefully with a swollen belly, carrying his little dragon without knowing it, without trying to get rid of it, loving it from the first moment. Neuvillette has seen you singing lullabies to your child these past few months, reading him stories while caressing your belly, telling him how much you want him to be born strong and healthy.
He's grateful for the deep affection you have for your child, so much so that he has tried to show it. Maybe what he read in the book worked, or maybe it is just a product of his new feelings for his wife, who is about to become a mother. He would do anything for your son to be born healthy and with a healthy mother.
He buys you fritters on the way home, from the store he found out you like best, courtesy of some Melusine, and sits next to you at the dinner table, trying to take an interest in your day and tell you about his, always aiming for your peace, a healthy heart would bring a healthy child.
His devotion is to the birth of your child, because that's what he tells himself. It's not that he was interested in you, of course not… it's not like he was surprised when you told him your clothes were too tight and you hated your new body, not when he likes to see your new figure when you lie next to him at night, with enlarged breasts and a round belly. He bought you new clothes, yes, by the boatload, but because that's what any husband would do.
He only appreciates you for being the mother of his child, it's not like his heart fluttered when he saw you helping some melusines with their problems, or coddling some baby of your friends, thinking what a wonderful mother you will soon be. It's not like h chest filled with pride when he saw you in the stores looking for maternity books and baby clothes, worrying about the weather and your child's health.
And it's definitely not like he's masturbating in his office, remembering the image of you undressing that morning to get into the tub, cutting the skin of your arms and breasts, moaning at the contact of the warm water against your body, and letting out a sigh of deep satisfaction.
That night, he comes home with the usual everyday gift, this time a box of macaroons, because he noticed that you were looking at them in the display case with great eagerness during the afternoon. And he sits down at the table with you, pours you a cup of tea and starts the conversation, even though he notices that you are much more tired than usual.
He carries you into the bedroom and helps you into your nightgown, taking the opportunity to caress your waist and back as he helps the fabric slide over your curves. And then he strokes your head to help you fall asleep, and without realizing it, he smiles as he sees you fast asleep next to him.
The birth is approaching and the strong pains make you desperate, confined to your room and reluctant to go out even to sunbathe. It was the midwife who unscrupulously suggested to Neuvillette that a little sexual activity would help you get through the contractions. And he, as devoted to his wife's health as any good husband, agrees.
You feel Neuvillette's cock thrust deep into you, deep into your velvety walls, soft and slow, not unlike what you've felt before. His hands rest on the sides of your head, his gaze fixed on his cock disappearing inside you, while you curl your legs at the delicious sensation of his thick appendage inside your pussy. He moves cautiously, sharply, trying not to hurt you, and as he pumps inside you, his gaze is lost on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts.
"Perfect," he whispers through his teeth, because in his eyes you are the perfect reservoir for his brood, yes, just that… he insists that you are simply his good companion, and pretends that he hasn't wanted to have you like this for weeks, under him, a mess between moans pinned to him as you cling to his arms.
"Monsieur~" you whimper, bringing a hand to your face to cover your expression, though he takes your wrist and looks at your face as if you were a treasure just discovered by a hungry, ambitious man.
When you reach your orgasm, he kisses you, for the first time during sex, Neuvillette kisses you, and even he surprises himself with his own actions. He washes your body and dresses you before you rest, now much calmer than before, sinking into your husband's chest as you fall asleep, ignoring the feelings that surface between the two of you.
When the child is born, Neuvillette is surprised to continue his affection for you. He did not fall into the same materialism as before, because now he recognized in the shared work of the novices how difficult it was to take care of a baby. It is he who washes the child because, to your surprise, he knows the strange need for fresh water that your baby requires at least twice a day. Neuvillette enjoys the laughter that you get from your child, and the way that he lifts his arms so that you can hold him and show him how well you are feeding him, he looks strong and healthy.
One day, as he was leaving the Opera Epiclese, he was distracted by the statue of the Focalors, but his attention was immediately drawn to the babbling exclamations of his son, who was waving in your arms near the fountain. How gratifying is that moment when his heart leaps with joy as he sees you holding his child.
The days have been sunny in Fontaine since your son was born, and to Neuvillette's relief, the bitter memories of his separation from the Focalors are just that, memories… past images that he does not cherish, as he knows humans do, not now that his being is entirely devoted to his mate and his brood. What kind of elixir have you become for him, that he can forget all his sorrows and his past loves?
Neuvillette spends hours in his office poring over the pages of the book you gave him months ago, highlighting this thing called melancholy, the longing for past situations and desires, and feeling sorry for those who feel it, because if it were a disease, he would call himself cured of this melancholy.
He finds it curious how you managed to get rid of all the gloomy feelings that plagued him, and even wonders if you are not some kind of sorceress… No, not you, not when you so devotedly cleanse your child and offer him a carefully prepared dinner, and practically put your heart and soul into every act of domesticity.
Focalors… her name and image sail through the ancient memories of Neuvillette's tattered mind, the smile of a woman he loved, now replaced by that of the one who lies beside him, coddling a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child. Funny how in such a short time he had acquired such human habits as feeling part of a family he hadn't even planned to have.
Your relationship with Neuvillette, full of respect and admiration, help and companionship, seems to evolve into something more. You become his confidant, his mentor when he has doubts about human children or about the customs between parents and children. Involuntarily, he comes to you when he has questions, not to a library, for despite your young mortal age, you know much more than books could ever give him.
You are patient with his ignorance and loving when he is wrong. Mutual and pure respect, absolute devotion and admiration. Neuvillette doesn't believe you are human, how can you be human with so many virtues… his curiosity grows and changes, so much so that he counts the hours in court to come home and chat with you while you nurse his child.
He returns home that night with new doubts, because he has seen strange devices for children without understanding their usefulness, called fun. Can they have fun by themselves? Aren't they too young for that?…oh, and he brings a storybook, because he understands that made-up stories are interesting for babies, even if they don't understand much of the language.
He goes to the baby's room with an enthusiasm he doesn't know he has, and stops at the door when he hears you soothing your baby's cry with sweet words.
"Hydro-Dragon, Hydro-Dragon, don't cry," you murmur as you caress your child's cheek and try to feed him.
Your child is frantically breastfeeding, his tears fading as he closes his bright purple eyes, his little hands clenched into fists and his nose twitching. Neuvillette watches the whole scene from the doorway, his heart in his throat and his feelings on his skin. Those words that broke his soul so long ago now seem to put the pieces of his shattered existence back together.
He smiles, a melancholy, self-satisfied smile. And he looks at you, he looks at you with devotion, because you have finally made him understand what he feels and has felt for so many months. His devoted wife, as patient as she is charming… seems wiser and more skillful than any scholar.
Leaving your child in its cradle, you straighten your neck and turn to Neuvillette, who has entered the room.
"What a beautiful book," you murmur, picking it up, "the baby will love it.
Neuvillette watches you with one hand on the crib that protects his baby, then watches his son sleep, wrinkling his nose the way you do when you sleep.
"You must be exhausted," he whispers, stroking your arm and leading you out of the baby's room.
"Not at all," you smile, "the child fills me with vitality."
"So… Hydro Dragon," Neuvillette recalls the words you said to his baby.
"I said it when I was a girl, like everyone else in Fontaine, it was an idea that came to me suddenly," you answer, and he smiles at your expression, thinking that maybe he heard you when you were a girl, maybe you were one of the many children who recited the same words when it rained in Fontaine.
"I have to tell you something," Neuvillette says, his voice lacking authority, more like a prayer. You watch him from the kitchen.
"'Tell me.
Focalors, Neuvillette, Furina, Fontaine's hydrodragon, the flood, his never-confessed love… he tells you everything because he understands that you deserve the truth, and that he doesn't deserve you because you're too understanding of his confession. It is as if this conversation has cleared up all your doubts, and you have finally seen the real Neuvillette, who fully trusts you to know what to do with this information.
Neuvillette believes that you will ask him for a divorce and leave him alone with his son, but he is surprised to find you preparing breakfast the next morning with your child tied to your leg while you both laugh.
He does not deserve you, definitely not, for he is perhaps the most despicable man in Fontaine and all of Teyvat. To think of another while he is married, to take his wife with him in a grief that is not hers, to bind her to him forever by impregnating her… how mean he must have been, and how understanding you become as his selfishness grows.
He hugs you from behind, buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent and clings to your waist. He begs for forgiveness countless times, and you feel that he may have already shed a few tears on your shoulder, because the sky suddenly begins to cloud over.
"There's nothing to forgive," you whisper, stroking his head, "we can't choose who we fall in love with."
He looks at you in disbelief, wondering in what book he would find such an accurate statement. You had fallen in love with him, and he finally understands, for you are both victims of the disorderly course of love, so messy in its actions, indifferent to those it hurts.
He thinks about your words as he sits in his office, as he looks at the framed photograph he has of you holding his son, and wonders when he fell into the trap of the reckless love that humans call it.
The name of the Focalors does not mean anything to him anymore, even less when he sees Lady Furina in boutiques or restaurants… surely a memory has finally become just that, a memory. His heart is now the prey of another person, his wife, the mother of his son.
Neuvillette understands that there is a difference between soul mates, first love, and true love. The connection with Focalors had been imminent years ago, as both were unaware of the actions of the society in which they had become intruders, but they were nothing more than that, accomplices in a game of masks and power, the first experience of mutual affection and trust. Focalors was his soulmate, yes, because she understood firsthand everything he experienced, but being a living part of her theater did not feel authentic.
With you, however, Neuvillette had learned to be a part of his people, whether as a human or a dragon, as Chief Justice or as the father of an infant. He was no longer an intruder or a stranger ignorant of human ways, not after you. At your side, Neuvillette had known a new range of sensations, of experiences and learning based on mistakes, all very human on his part, and as expected, he had learned to fall in love again, because it was inevitable, after several problems and misunderstandings between the two of you, after the birth of his son and the new horizons that fatherhood brought. His affection for you had been disguised as admiration and redemption, his ignorance had once again avoided love, a mistake he wanted to make up for.
Sitting in your living room while he reads a book and you braid his hair and hum a lullaby, Neuvillette lets the waves of your voice carry him away, wondering what kind of marital experiences he had missed with you.
"What kind of things do husbands do?" He asks suddenly, looking up at you from the carpeted floor, surprising you with his curious question.
"Well…" you think, it's not like when he asks you why kids suck their thumbs or why people give each other presents on non-holidays. It's not a question about trivial human behavior, not this time.
"I've seen couples go out to dinner, but you told me that friends also go out to dinner," he continues, elaborating on his puzzle. "Wriothesley and I have had tea together, what would be the difference between having tea with him and with you?"
"Well…" you continue to think about your answer. "Perhaps the most obvious is living together, planning the week together, household and food expenses, child care, and confidentiality between the two. When you and I have tea, we talk about things that you probably don't mention to Wriothesley".
" Certainly," he says with a hand on his chin, "you and I do all those things, but how is that different from students who share a house? They also plan expenses and discuss confidences."
"Then I guess the biggest difference is in starting a family. Normally, people get married because they want to have a family with the person they choose, the person they love, or the person their parents impose on them."
"So sex is what differentiates married people," he says, and you remain static at his words, stopping to braid his hair, "of course… the physical and emotional affection shown by both parties in marriage…" Neuvillette rambles on, his own conclusion as he sits on the couch next to you, thinking about how he hasn't shown his affection the way he should.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, you are distracted by the details of your skirt, picking out rebellious threads, and then he thinks about the last time he kissed you and wonders what it would be like to kiss someone with marital affection.
"Can I kiss you?" The question is thrown out with innocence, causing surprise in you.
"You've kissed me before, Neuvillette," you say, smiling and getting up to go into the kitchen, "we even have a son, I don't think there's anything new to try."
"Indeed," he says, getting up and walking toward you, your back against one of the walls, "but the variable that makes this situation different from the others is that I didn't feel that way about you."
"Like what?" you ask, as he moves closer to you, almost cornering you against the wall.
"I like thinking about you, being with you, hearing you talk," he says, his tone low, as if he were ashamed to confess everything to you. "I thought it was a simple instinct to care for you as the mother of my child… but now I know it's something deeper than that."
You look at him in surprise, now it is you who has unknowns that only he can answer. The silence between you is cold and almost tactile.
"What about her? Of the Archon," you whisper, your breath depending on the question, Neuvillette's forehead inches from yours.
"It's not the same. There is no excitement or desire. I never longed for her or desired her like you. She didn't provoke me the way you did, it's almost annoying."
"Am I annoying? "Is that what she's telling me, Judge?" You smile as you touch the tip of his nose, trying to take some of the seriousness out of the conversation.
"You are adorably hypnotic, I must say. More than you should be. You have taken everything from me without me even realizing it, subtly and carefully taking over my mind and my heart," Neuvillette's hands caress your cheek, high above your skin, avoiding friction as if his touch would bruise your flawless complexion.
"Let me show you these human feelings that have taken over me, please," he whispers, his thumb sliding over your lower lip. He says it almost like a complaint, his bursting emotions becoming painful, trapped in his chest, longing for you to give him comfort and permission to act.
"I'll let you… only if you promise me something," you say, taking his hand, avoiding the marks of his fingers on you. "You will never push me aside for another woman again…"
His oath needs no words, not when he has you leaning against the kitchen table, his cock pushing behind you to your cervix. Your muffled moans as he adjusts your skirt over your waist and spreads your legs further to give him free access to your pussy, which sucks him contemptuously.
Neuvillette feels like a fantasy, thrusting relentlessly into you, touching the bulge that has formed in your belly from the penetration of his cock, pushing with his hand so you can feel it better, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you. . He kisses your cheek and you hear his muffled moans against your ear as he utters words of worship.
You grip the marble edge of the table, moaning at the burning building in your belly, your eyes glassy and spit falling from your mouth. It's as if your legs were lifeless, as if you were prey to Neuvillette and the way he drives his love for you so deep that it seems to stir your womb.
That afternoon he takes you in the kitchen, and the next morning he doesn't let you get out of bed, one hand on the headboard and the other around your waist, Neuvillette has you with your ass up like a dog in heat, hitting your slippery with his length. The strength that his support gives you is hard to bear, your breasts trembling strongly as your ass bounces to his rhythm, your skin moving like waves in the sea with each vibration that Neuvillette's relentless interference causes.
His hand slides down your body, caressing your breasts and down to your clit, your face buried in the pillows, almost crying at how good his fingers feel on your nervous lump. He fills you with his seed when he reaches orgasm, because he is dying to see you again with your belly swollen for his offspring. And he kisses you again, he kisses your forehead while you catch your breath, while you cover your body that has been bruised by his fingers, defining the lustful path of his digits over your body.
In his office, he remembers the past hours with fanciful lust and longs to return home to enjoy this new activity that you have made him experience, this new addiction that your body represents against his. He longs for your company and your warmth, your voice moaning with pleasure and the way your nails dig into his back. He adores everything about you, not only because you are the mother of his child, but because he finally understands, after several months of reading and reflection, that he has truly fallen in love with you, his precious human wife.
229 notes · View notes
sorapricots · 2 days
Text
Soothing Heaven
Summary: While the nightmare kept trailing behind each of his step keeping him wide awake and tied down to the reminder that his the last of his people, you always accept him with warm smile and open arms.
Pair: Aventurine x Reader
Genre: Hurt/comfort
Warnings: Everyone is sad here :(
A/N: I got aventurine in soft pity AND I won my 50/50 TWICE (Yes my Aventurine is E1 I am so proud) can y’all believe that? Not to mention I got his light cone on 10 pulls with 0 pity… he wanted me fr fr.  Aventurine story quest really kills me. He just want a peaceful life yet the fate say no n make him suffering more than he already suffered :( that man just need some hug fr.
Wc:  1,1k
“You’re a child blessed by Gaiathra Triclops and can lead the clan to happiness. So always remember to protect yourself and never resent the pain and poverty you’re going through… All right?”
Aventurine gasped as he opened his eyes. Beeping from the alarm beside his table can be heard. He pushed the alarm off as he blankly stared the ceiling above him. His sister’s words keep echoing in his head. He exhaled softly as he pushed his body from the bed.
As he started to get ready he start to imagine what and how his trip to penacony will be. Will his mission from the IPC will go smoothly or will he encounter enemies he can’t face?
Whatever the result is he surely does not excited to leave. He grabbed his phone as he walked out from his bedroom. Quickly searching for your name in his contact list and call your number.
One, two, and three rings you finally pick up his call.
“Hello! Good morning my love.” Your smooth voice made him smile softly as he opened the fridge.
“Good morning my lucky charm.” He can hear you giggle from the phone which only make his smile harder. Suddenly he feel the tattoo on his neck pulsed. Which make him grunt a bit. Making his lover stop talking.
“Are you okay my love?” you asked voice laced with worries. Aventurine let out a small hum to show that he’s okay when in reality his clutching his neck pretty hard.
“I don’t feel so good about this my love… are you sure you are okay and will go to penacony?” Aventurine can’t help but smile with how worried and how caring his lover to his well being.
“Don’t worry sunshine, I will be alright. You know I always be alright.” Aventurine can hear you sniffled. Aventurine cooed at the thought of you wiping your tears.
“I’ll go to your place now hm? Let’s have some time together before I left with Topas. I’ll see you in 10, love. I love you my lucky charm.” You let out a choke hum before bid him goodbye and hear a beep from your phone.
.
.
.
10 minutes never feel so long in your life as you sit on the counter with your earbuds on trying to drown bad thoughts in your head. Your finger turning red as you keep picking the skin.
You blinked when you see a harm gloved fingers carefully pull your fingers apart. Suddenly the world is quiet.
Aventurine carefully cup your cheeks with his hands. Treating you like a glass he got from an auction with highest price. Carefully he wiped aways those tears that won’t stop streaming down. And end it with a soft kiss on each of your eyes.
“I’m here. And always be here no matter how far we are.” He said with a whisper. Your eyelids rapidly blink away the tears before you pull him to a hug. Inhaling his scent and absorbing his warmth.
“Be safe, Kakavasha.” Your tone wavering. Aventurine smile softly at the way you call him by his real name. A privilege that is reserve for you and you only.
“I will, precious.” His hands softly rub your back as you hug him harder.
“Let me drop you off at the office.” You spoke softly as you pull yourself a bit to see your lover face. Aventurine smile and nodded.
You both go to IPC office, hands entangled to one and another refusing to let go. The closer you are to the office the tighter your grip on his hand. And all he can do is just pulling you closer to his side.
“Well looks like someone is not willing to say their goodbye.” Topaz welcome both of you with Numby on her shoulder squeaking. You smile at her before Aventurine pull you a bit far away to talk.
“I will go now…” there’s a heavy atmosphere enveloping around both of you.
“I will wait here…” your voice crack as your vision blurry. Hands carefully play with one of his rings.
Aventurine lean in carefully. Cupping your cheeks as his forehead touch yours. His multi-coloured eyes stare at your glossy ones. Thumbs carefully wiping the fallen tears before he kissed you.
Slowly Aventurine pull away. You watch as one of your hand hold the other half set of earing that you have with Aventurine. Carefully playing with the crystal as your eyes watch Aventurine get into the car with Topaz and left.
Empty start to engulfing you as you walk home alone.
.
.
.
Anxious.
One feeling that have been haunted you for the past 3 days. The news spread like a wildfire about what happened with IPC especially Aventurine in Penacony.
If it’s not because how hard it was to be able to step a foot on Penacony and the responsibility you have at home you would go to Aventurine as soon as you can. But fate decided the other thing and all you can do is just wait.
Your eyes keep moving back to your phone as your fingers typing stuff at the laptop on your lap. The sky getting dark and yet there’s no ongoing news about what happened with your lover. Not even from Topaz herself.
Suddenly there’s a jingle of keychains. Your finger immediately stopped typing as you try to confirm yourself if you hear something. You can feel your chest beating.
The door creaked as it opened slowly. Showing a figure with clothing style that you so familiar with. In a hurry you put everything aside and you run to welcome him.
There he was. Your Aventurine. Looks so dishevelled. His skin looks paler than he already is. There’s no glint of light in his multi-coloured eyes. He looks like he’s about to collapsed anytime soon.
You open your arms. No words to be said as your eyes mirror his. Slowly he walked towards you before he let his body fall limp into your arms.
No sobs to be heard from him, but the way you can feel your shirt getting damp tell a story that don’t need to be untold. Carefully both of you fall to the floor. With Aventurine still in your arms and your arms carefully rub his back.
Suddenly you feel him circling his arms around you. Tight enough for you to unable to let go. You hug him equally tight. Sway your body from side to side. Aiding his inner turmoil. Telling him without words that you will be there.
“Welcome back, Kakavasha.” you said with the softest tone you can give. Sobs suddenly break out from him as you try to calm his trembling body by playing his hair.
Maybe, maybe this is what the emanator of nihility meant when she told him to go back. His soothing heaven is waiting for him after all.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 15 hours
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {6}
Summary: After a confusing first night together it is time for the first public appearance with Charles. Warnings: angst, little bit of fluff WC: 2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.
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An awkward silence filled the large space when you cut the engine inside the old factory and let the roller door close behind you. Charles rather elegantly dismounted and let you lock the motorbike up without a word. You had tried not to look at him too much after leaving the club but it was impossible to avoid now that there was nowhere to escape. 
“I’m going to shower,” you muttered. Charles sat at the edge of the bed and watched you walk to the only internal door. The old plumbing creaked as you turned the hot water onto full blast because it never reached any decent temperature above warm. You couldn’t suppress the hiss of pain when the water hit your body, each droplet like shrapnel on your skin.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked through the door.
“Never been better, Charles.”
You stared at a spiderweb that had appeared since your last visit until the water all too soon ran cold. A fluffy towel swamped your body and you relished the softness on your bruises, grateful you had stolen it from your bathroom. When you stepped out of the bathroom you found Charles still sat on the bed but now there were two beers condensating on the wobbly side table.
“Help yourself then,” you murmured as you grabbed a fresh pair of clothes from your backpack. “Look and I will throttle you.”
Charles turned his back as you dropped the towel and pulled your panties up your legs. Bending over sent white hot pain flashing through your ribs and tears burned your eyes when you tried to reach behind your back for the bra strap. Without the adrenaline of the fight everything felt ten times worse.
You jumped when cold fingertips brushed your spine and swiped your hands aside. “Let me.”
“Rumour has it you only know how to take these off,” you said as he clipped your bra into place. 
Charles turned you to face him and his eyes drifted down your body, lingering on the bruise blossoming on your ribs. “Since when have you cared about rumours?”
“I don’t, but your reputation precedes you. And, just so you know, I don’t have any friends for you to move on with after this ruse is up.”
“I don’t believe that,” he chuckled. “I think Alicia is your friend.”
“Alicia is too nice for her own good but she’s still on the payroll. I don’t think it’s friendship when it’s paid for.” You frowned as your stomach dropped as you realised what he had said and took a step back. “Plus, she is happily married so you’re out of luck there.”
Charles took a step to follow and caught your hand. “That’s not what I meant.”
You scoffed. “No?”
“No. You’re not as alone as you think you are. You have people who look out for you, and that’s friendship whether you believe it or not.” You tried not to let the words penetrate the internal walls you had built but they crumbled a little when he carefully embraced you. “You also don’t need to keep fighting, you have control of your future now.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” you admitted as you looked up under your lashes to meet his eyes.
“Then let me show you.” His palm cradled your cheek and his thumb caressed your jaw as you waited to see what he would do. “You can say no whenever you want. The choice is yours.” His eyes traced the shape of your lips before returning higher and his lips parted as he started to dip his head. “You are in control.”
It could have been the sleep deprivation, the crash of hormones after the fight, or the fact that he was as good looking as any of the models you had seen. But, whatever the reason for your weak resolve, you didn’t say no.
You didn’t say no when his lips brushed softly over yours, tentatively. You didn’t say no when he grew bolder and deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the curve of your lips. 
“Stop,” you gasped when his hands began to glide down your body. They immediately froze and he pulled back with a deep breath. “I can’t tell if you are fucking with my head, Charles. You make me question everything I know about you.”
“I can only say ‘I’m sorry’ so many ways.”
“So you thought you would try fuck your apology onto me?”
“No,” he laughed. “That was purely self indulgent. Even when I couldn’t stand it I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“I’m not having sex with you.”
“I told you, you’re in control,” he said with a nod. 
You returned the nod and jutted your chin to the bed. “I’m a cuddler, don’t read too much into it when you wake up with me invading your personal space. Or, you can take the couch.”
He looked at the ratty couch and shook his head before a grin grew. “I like spooning.”
You pointedly looked at sweatpants and lifted a brow. “Little spoon, I bet.”
Charles smirked and dropped down on the bed, making himself comfortable on your pillow. “Nothing little about it, babe.”
You scrunched up your nose and reached under the pillow for the Prema shirt you slept in but before you could pull it on it was ripped out of your hands. “Hey!”
“You are not going to sleep next to me in my brother’s shirt.”
“There’s not exactly a wardrobe full of options here,” you said as you tried to grab it back.
Charles caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth movement before tossing it on your shoulder. “There you go.”
“I like that one.”
Charles gripped the fabric and tore the shirt in half as your eyes narrowed. “If we are going to fake this, we are doing it right. My girlfriend won’t be sleeping in another man’s shirt.”
“Fuck you, Leclerc,” you swore. It was better to be swathed in his clothing than half naked in your own, that was the only reason you pulled it on and breathed through your mouth so you didn’t have to inhale the rich cologne that clung to the soft fabric. You couldn’t be blamed for your actions if your hormones liked the smell too much because one thing was certain: when he lay there shirtless you had no control over your filthy thoughts.
You turned out the light and threw yourself down onto the bed with a pained groan that had nothing to do with your ribs. It was difficult but you managed to turn away from the man whose eyes drank in the sight of his shirt on you. 
“Arthur said I wouldn’t recognise you in the ring,” he confessed in the darkness, “but I think that’s the first time I’ve really seen you.”
You didn’t know how to respond when your heart started to beat like a jack rabbit so you settled for a sedate, “Goodnight, Charles.”
The pallets groaned with his shifting as he rolled over and his arm curved low on your waist, missing your ribs. A soft kiss found a place on your heated cheek and he whispered his own, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
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“You’re distracting me,” you muttered as you saw the shadow moving again. “Stop fiddling.”
Charles walked into the reflective field of the mirror after showering and he struggled to get the cufflinks into his Valentino suit. He walked around the table you were fixing your makeup at and held his arm out. “Can you please help?”
You fixed the shiny white gold pins into place before completing the finishing touches that completely concealed the bruises on your cheeks. The arnica had done its best to bring down the swelling but if anyone questions your puffy eyes you would just claim a rough night's sleep. 
“Can you zip me up?” you asked as you stepped out of the robe and into the gown chosen for the event. Charles knuckles traced your spine as he dragged the zip carefully up while you held your hair out of the way and the delicate touch sent goosebumps chasing in its wake. 
The Cannes Film Festival would be the first official outing with Charles and would publicise the relationship just in time for his home race. After the photos were snapped on the red carpet there would be no more privacy and every interaction would be watched by his eager fans. You knew what to expect - hate and hypercritical analysis were nothing new - but now they would come from run of the mill 20 year old females instead of millionaire middle-aged men.
A knock at the door interrupted the staring contest you found yourself in with Charles in the mirror and you stepped away to slip your heels on.
“The car is waiting downstairs,” Veronica said as she waltzed into your room. 
“Then it can keep waiting,” you replied while you chose an understanded clutch that wouldn’t distract from the dress. “I need two front row tickets to the opera next Saturday.” 
“But you have a-”
You held a hand up to interrupt her. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, just get me the tickets.”
Charles watched silently from the door, his phone and wallet in hand, and stepped aside to dodge the surly assistant that breezed from the room as quickly as she entered.
“We are attending the Palace dinner with Prince Albert next Saturday,” he said after Veronica had disappeared down the stairs. 
It wouldn’t be a Monaco Grand Prix without a Palace dinner and you had agreed to be Charles’ plus one. “I know.”
“Then why-”
“I don’t have to explain my every move to you, okay?”
His lips pressed closed in a tight line and he nodded sullenly.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed, feeling like crap for snapping at him. “I’m not used to having someone to explain my actions to.”
“I get it,” he said, but you got the feeling he really didn’t. He could talk to his family about what was happening in his life and they would listen, you didn’t have that luxury.
“We should go.”
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The plush carpet absorbed your heel with each step and you held Charles’ arm a little tighter. Your father had been kind enough to remind you not to make an embarrassment of yourself and you really wished you had been able to take a separate vehicle. After escaping the last event with Charles they had made sure to keep you closer and stop that from happening again.
“Family photo,” your father said with a tight smile. “You too, Charles.”
“Yes, sir.” Charles stepped back into the frame and curled his arm around your waist, his palm warming your hip through your dress.
“Who are you wearing this evening?” the journalist beside the photographer asked, recording device at the ready.
“These divine pieces are from Bouchra Jarrar’s private collection,” your mother answered with a soft pat to your father’s suit jacket.
“And what is this knockout piece?”
You had far less enthusiasm when the attention turned to you. “Alexandre Vauthier, haute couture.”
“If only he knew what a knockout you really were,” Charles whispered in your ear, earning a real smile from you that the camera quickly snapped at.
“And you, Charles?”
“I’m not sure, she dressed me,” Charles said with a wink to you, charming everyone in the crowd including the reporter.
“He’s wearing new season Valentino but he was distracted by the Hypercar race when we picked it out.”
Charles’ laugh teased your skin and he shrugged innocently. “Forza Ferrari, baby.”
You eventually made it to the end of the red carpet and into the cinema for the special screening of some new drama film up for an award. The lights dimmed and the crowd fell silent with the opening credits but your entire focus was on the hand that slipped into yours.
“It’s dark in here,” you whispered. “You don’t need to pretend.”
“Who said I am pretending?”
The armrest was suddenly much closer as you found yourself gravitating to him and your cheek came to rest on his shoulder before the title even appeared.
“Pretending would probably be easier.”
“Probably, but it’s too late for me.”
You didn’t tell him but you had the exact same thought.
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sannie4luv · 1 day
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Always So Pretty For Me
Pairings: Choi San x f!reader
Warnings: m & f masturbation, phone sex, praise kink, voice kink
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: so I have NOT been able to stop thinking about san being like this and I desperately just want to be his pretty girl and be talked through it by him, I literally wrote this in less than an hour so be nice to me :(, I need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore. Also not proof read so ignore the mistakes :p
With San being on tour, In different cities, Different time zones. You always felt yourself get lonely, not only emotionally, but physically as well. And right now you needed him more than you felt like you ever had in your life. When he would be on breaks from tour or schedules, he always made it a point to satisfy you in all the ways he knew how. Truly he knew your body better than you did. He knew how to make you feel good in the best ways, knew how to touch you so you were ruined for anyone else who tried to, yourself being included.
Here you were sat up in your bed with a sticky feeling between your thighs, one that you knew only San could satisfy. The only problem was, he was thousands of miles away on the other side of the world at this point. It was late at night, around 3am when you decided to go through all your old videos with him. Some of him being sweet and funny, others of him nestled so nicely between your thighs and eating you out like it was his last meal.
One of your favorite attributes about San was he would always talk you through it, knowing you got off on him talking so sweetly to you and praising you like you were the other thing that mattered to him most in the world. “You’re always such a good girl for me Angel, always make the prettiest sounds for me. God I could listen to you moan my name on repeat all fucking day baby, you make me so fucking crazy.” You heard the San in the video say, not doing anything to help the problem between your legs. You gently started touching your hardened nipples through your shirt similar to how he would, but it never felt like he did it. Truly Choi San had ruined you for anyone else.
You touched all over your body softly, eventually leading you to the place where you needed to be touched the most. Still listening to the filthy things that was coming out of Sans mouth on the video, which only spurred you on more. “You gonna cum all over my face angel? Huh? Can you do that for me baby? I know you can because you’re my good girl right? Yeah that’s it baby… that’s it… that’s my pretty girl.” He had said as you came all over his face and fingers in the video. At that point you had decided you couldn’t take it anymore and you needed to call him, just to hear him talk in that deep sultry voice of his.
It doesn’t take San long to pick up, it was the middle of the day for him and thankfully had an off day and was just resting in the hotel, what you didn’t know is he was doing the exact same thing you were. Laid up in bed watching old videos of you too that resulted in a hard Bulge in his pants and nothing but his hand to satisfy it, but he wouldn’t tell you that. “Hey angel, it’s late there no? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He said as he gently palmed the bulge in his pants trying to get it to go down.
“I need you Sannie…” you whimpered out and this made san shoot up in his bed and make his cock even harder than it already was. “You need me baby? What do you need princess?” San had said which only caused you to throw your head back with a soft moan, still touching yourself and feeling unsatisfied because it just wasn’t him doing it. “Need you to touch me… it never feels as good when I do it, I want you to come home..” You moaned out and began to rub yourself faster through your panties. This made San bite his lip and palm his dick a little harder. God if he could he would hop on a flight home and take care of you like you needed to be.
“I want to come home too princess, I’ll be home soon you know that. And I’ll take care of you so well when I do baby, are you touching yourself right now angel?” San said as he slipped his hands in his sweatpants and touched himself through his boxers, letting out a light grunt as the layers got thinner and thinner. “Yes… I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stop thinking about you baby, it doesn’t feel as good when I do it…” you moan out as you moved your panties to the side to finally relieve yourself the way you needed.
“You miss me Angel? I miss you too, was laying here watching old videos of us and came across one of you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. God I wish you were here baby. I wouldn’t be able to take my hands off you.” San said as he finally slipped his hands in his boxers and slowly started pumping his cock up and down. “Rub yourself for me baby, you’re always such a good girl for me. You can do that for me right?” San said as his hand picked up the pace a bit and bit down deeply on his lip, surely he would draw blood to it soon but he didn’t care.
“Ugh fuck San.. it feels so good.” You said as you ran soft circles around your clit, pretty much just getting off on his voice alone. “Slip your pretty fingers inside for me baby, let me hear how much you miss me. God I can’t fucking wait to ruin you when I get home I swear this tour is torturing me with blue balls.” San said as he gripped his cock tighter and went faster. “Wish they were your fingers Sannie… you always fill me up so well.” You said as you pumped your fingers inside yourself trying to match the pace of him pumping his own cock that you heard in the background. You definitely weren’t gonna last long at all, you were already so close.
“Mmm I know Angel, don’t worry it’ll be my fingers soon, but for now I just need you to go faster.. fuck princess I’m not gonna last, always sound so pretty for me when you moan like that.” San said as he felt his high approaching, but he wouldn’t let himself cum until you did first. “Fuck San I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered out as you fucked yourself with your fingers faster, not wanting to cum until he told you to.
“Cum for me princess” just as he said that the knot in your stomach had snapped and you threw your head back with a high pitched moan. Not noticing how you just soaked the fuck out of your sheets. “Fuck that’s it baby… that’s my good girl, always listen to me so well.” San said with a grunt and a shudder as he came all over his stomach. God he wished that it was inside you instead. He always loved watching it drip out of you.
“Show me the mess you made princess, I wanna see what I’m coming home to.” San said as he reached over and grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand clean of the evidence of him cumming from phone sex like a horny teenager. Even though you were on the verge of falling asleep you did as he said and you could hear him moan through the phone, almost convinced he was wanting to go round two. “Fuck baby… you’re such a good girl. Can’t wait to come home and take care of you the way you deserve.” San said as he himself snapped a quick pic of the cum sitting on his stomach, shooting a text a long with it that read “wish it was inside you instead.”
This made you bite your lip and throw your head back, damning your tiredness because if you weren’t on the brink of passing out you would absolutely go round 2 with him. “Miss you so much Sannie…” you said as you felt your eyes grow heavy. San knew you were gonna fall asleep any minute now. “I miss you too angel, get some rest and call me when you wake up. I promise I’ll be home soon before you know it pretty girl, I love you more than anything.” You had let out a soft “I love you too…” before your tiredness got the best of you, and just like that all San could hear was your soft snores through the phone, knowing that it was only him that could bring you that much safety and comfort.
God he really needed to get the fuck home.
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hazenllas · 19 hours
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Unwanted Words
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Regina George x fem! reader
contains: angst, fluff, comfort, Reader being a tad bit sensitive, slight mention of smut, i think thats it
A/N Message: back with my Regina fics!! this one is a little short only because im super tired and classes start in a little over an hour
Summary: You and Regina were complete opposites. Thats why you both worked so well together. Regina always had a soft spot for you, but what happens when she gets into a bad mood?
You and Regina were the top couple at NorthShore High. While Regina was the mean, rude and goddess-like Queen Bee who roamed the NorthShore halls as everyone (metaphorically) bowed before her feet when she passed, You were quite the opposite. Being an art freak who was bestfriends with Janis and Damien, you were the nicest person anyone could ever talk to. The second Regina laid her eyes on you the first time you walked into the school on your first day in sophmore year, she knew you both were made for eachother. And so did you. You werent exactly apart of the plastics but you were friends with Gretchen, Karen, and Cady. Regina and the Plastics made sure to have your back like Bodygaurds so everyone knows not to mess with you. Even in broad daylight Regina had the softest heart for you. She made sure to always care for you and protect you against everything. She was your safe place.
"Gina!" You shake your girlfriend up violently. It was 8:30 am. School started at 8. Because of the last night activities, you and Regina woke up late for school and you were panicking. "Shh.. a few more minutes baby..." Regina mumbled from her pillow she was snuggled in. You roll your eyes playfully and get out of the bed to get dressed. Regina pulled you back onto the bed and snuggled into you. She started kissing your neck and you felt yourself sigh. "G, come on..." You say, with a heavy exhale as Regina's hands Rome your body. She groans and let's out a "whatever". You giggle and go into Regina's closet where she has a section of only your cloths. It was Wednesday so you wore a pair of pink baggy Jeans and a white short sleeved oversized T- shirt and a few pink bracelets. Once you're ready, you look at your girlfriend, to see she is changing as well. You can't help but stare at her bare figure. "Like what you see, baby girl?" Regina looks over her shoulder smirking. "I-uh" You stutter out. "C'mere" Regina whispers and you follow her orders. She turns around and your eyes land on her perfect shaped breasts. "You can touch 'em baby." Reginq mumbles. You hold her breasts in your hands and softly massage them. She lifts your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. She moans in into the kiss and bites your bottom lip causing you to do the same. Your eyes glance at the clock and see it's 8:45. "Shit!" You say and pull away from Regina. "Gina we gotta hurry!" You shout and Regina rolls her eyes but continues getting ready.
Once you both get to school, she opens the door for you and you walk out with a soft thank you. She smiles and kisses your cheek. She takes your hand and you both walk into the school together. You shared a first period with Regina and Karen so while both of them chatted for a bit, you went to your seat and silently began reading as you wait for the teacher to get into the classroom. Regina goes to her desk bit stops infront of yours and pulls you into her lap. This was pretty normal for everyone so nobody said a thing.
After 1st period, you and Regina didn't have any classes together but you shared a few with Janis and Damien. Once lunch hit, you were so thrilled to see your girlfriend again. You walk into the lunchroom and see all 4 girls already at the table. You place your stuff down and give Regina a kiss on the cheek. She doesn't look at you which was weird but you shake it off. You go through the lunch line and walk back with a slice of pizza, a bowl of fruit, and a juice. You sit beside Regina and she doesn't pay attention to you at all. She was eating her food and would snap at Gretchen from time to time. What's gotten into her? "Ugh! You are so fucking stupid Karen! Why would you think that even if you fail the extra credit assignment you will still get your grade up?" Regina yells at Karen and Karen just stared at her food. "Hey, Gina. What's wrong baby?" You stroke Regina's arm to calm how down a bit. "What do you want Y/n." Regina says coldly. You feel a shiver down your spine but you don't give up. "What's wrong honey? Please tell me." You softy say and Regina's icey blue eyes glare at you. "Can you just shut the he'll up for one moment Y/n?" Regina shouts loudly and the whole lunchroom goes silent. You feel tears in your eyes and you look at your lap. You feel many shocked stares on you and you feel like you're in a giant hole. You pack up your things and rush out of the lunchroom. Janis and Damien follow after you but you wish Regina did too. "Woah woah Y/n what's wrong?" Janis asks you who is sitting on the hallway floor. "Janis, I don't know what's gotten into Regina!" You start to cry. Damien looks at you with sorrow and starts to rub your back. "Girl I think she's just having a bad day. Maybe talk to her later? There's gotta be a reason she lashed out on you like that." Damien reasons and you nod at his words. They stay with you until the bell rings for next period to start. You dodged the texts from Regina for the rest of the day which left Regina frustrated and worried. You even took the bus home instead of going to Regina's car for your every day sleepover.
It was 10:34 pm and you were laying In your bed. Your parents were away and you couldn't sleep. You still weren't answering Regina's texts. Regina was finally fed up and left to go to your house. She knocks on your window and you are startled by the sudden noise. "Who is it?" You ask alarmed. "baby its me, open the window please" Regina says in her soft tone again. You hesitated, but sighed and went to the window to let your girlfriend in. She immediately pulls you in for a hug almost suffocating you. "Im so so sorry for earlier sweet girl. I promise i didnt mean to yell at you. Will you forgive me, my love?" Regina kisses your head. you nod but then decide to ask her something. "Gina? did anything happen earlier that caused you to change your mood?" You lead Regina and you to your bed and she takes a deep breath. "Well first, i was walking to 2nd period and some dumbas spilled his juice on my boots! it made me so angry and i had to clean them up in the bathroom. then, i failed my math test! Then when i was trying to focus on the lecture, Karen would NOT stop talking to me! it made me in such a bad mood but that is no excuse for the way i took it out on you. Im sorry, honey." Regina rants and you giggle and kiss her cheek. "Its okay G. now can we go to sleep?" Regina nods and pulls you up onto her chest and snuggles into the bed. you both say good night and drift off to sleep.
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kika-writes · 1 day
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wallpapers and widgets - l.n
Warnings: None!
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: A look into Y/N’s phone!
A/N - Do you think I should do an Oscar one?
A/N - You ‘may’ notice my slight obsession with the song ‘Too Sweet’ my bad 
INSTAGRAM DMs 
mclaren 
m - y/n ur bf’s acting up again 😨
y/n - give him chicken nuggets 
m - he said not unless he eats them out your hand 💀
y/n - …omw 🙄
m - our saviour 🙏 
y/n - where??? is??? my??? bf??? 😡
m - up to sum shenanigans w oscar 
y/n - mclaren admit be real w me for a hot sec 😒
m - im not tellin u who I am 
y/n - yeah that’s irrelevant. bUt 
m - 😰😰😰
y/n - do oscar and lando wanna, yk, 🦴?
m - i dont know what you mean 
m - OHHHHHHH, BONE?! yeah probably 🤷
y/n - lmfao is oscar single 💅
m - no, we’re married sorry 😞
landito 🧡
l - baby
l - baby 
l - babyyyyy
l - BABYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAY
y/n - I was in the shower-
l - without me? what kind of gf r u? 😨
y/n - the kind that would dump u for ur teammate if u don’t pipe down 😘
l - IM SOSOOSOSSOOSOSOSOSOSOOSOS SORRY
y/n - that’s what I thought landito. now what did u want?
l - urm, your amazing personality 😍 
y/n - finish that sentence 🙄
l -  and your tits 🥰
y/n - what’s oscar’s number 
l - no. 
y/n - THEN BE FLIPPIN NORMAL 😫
l - only on tuesdays 
y/n - U DUMB WHORE 
l - woah! dont be using that word! it makes me horny 😏
y/n - u freak bye 😭
Messages 
pastry man 
p - ur bf is feral 
y/n - could not tell. 
p - take him back pleaseeeeeee 🙏 
y/n - receipt says no returns
p - HES UR BF. AND UR W MY GIRLFRIEND RN 😨😨😨
y/n - yeah she tastes amazing 
p - blocked 🚫 
smooth operator 
y/n - can u stop humping my bf 
s - I did no such thing 
y/n - yes u did, charles told me
y/n - charles never lies 
s - yes he does 
y/n - he swore on his ice cream shop and Leo 
s - oh shit. 
s - y/n, I am v sorry, I didn’t mean to hump lando 
s - Y/N PLS IM SORRY 
y/n - TAKING AWAY UR LANDO GOLF PRIVELEGES 
s - NO 
camera roll
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wallpaper 
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bonus 👇
y/n - I know nobody wants to live forever baby 
landito - I’d live forever if you’re with me 
y/n - dont get me wrong, ur bright as the sunshine, soft as the rain 
landito - thank u y/n ur prettier 😘
y/n - pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape 
landito - that’s so adorable xxxx
y/n - sit in a barrel, maybe then I’ll wait 
landito - peculiar request 🙂‍↔️
y/n - I’d rather take my whiskey neat 😌
landito - you dont drink whiskey…?
y/n - my coffee black and my bed at three 
landito - THREE IN THE MORNING?!
y/n - you’re too sweet for me 💔
landito - what?
y/n - you’re too sweet for me 💔💔
landito - y/n, tf? r u breaking up w me? over text?
landito - y/n? 
landito - alright then 
y/n - LANDITO 😭
landito - lando*
y/n - um, no, don’t u dare give ME the cold shoulder. 
landito - u just dumped me-
y/n - landito, do u srsly think I dumped u?
landito - for the last time, my name’s Lando, and yes. you just did. 
y/n - baby it’s a lyric prank. 
landito - so u didn’t dump me?
y/n - clearly not lando 😭😭
landito - landito*
y/n - omg 
landito - what 
y/n - I see u across this room 😨
landito - and?
y/n - DID U CRY?!
landito - allergies 
y/n - omg I feel horrible bb :(
landito - u r horrible 😒
y/n - come here before oscar asks questions 
316 notes · View notes
beneathstarryskies · 2 days
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Word Count: 1,285 Warnings: fem!reader, pentration (p+v), oral (f recieving), fluffy Summary: You reunite with Halsin after the events in Baldur's Gate. A/N: This is just a little thing I had some inspo for
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The moon shines over the water, bright and silver as the pieces in your pack. It’s been a long journey, one most ardently taken so you could be reunited with Halsin at last. He’s still awake when you cross the bridge to Last Light Inn. He peers out the window to see you, and a small smile tugs on his lips. 
You hardly recognize the lands that used to be shadow-cursed. Lush greenery grows along the side of Last Light, covering it in vines and flowers. Moss and grass have begun growing between the stonework at your feet. It used to be trodden down by the activity of the Harpers but has since slowed down since the area is in relative peace. 
Halsin comes out the door at the same time you’re approaching it. Without hesitation, he wraps you up in a warm bear hug. You giggle as your feet lift from the ground, and he spins you around. 
“My heart, I’ve watched the horizon for you,” he declares as he carefully sets you down on your feet again. He cups your cheeks gently and smiles down at you with such warmth. 
“I came as soon as I could,” you say before leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. “I’m sorry it took so long.” 
“It’s no matter, my heart. I only thank the Oakfather that you’re here with me now.” 
He reaches down to take your hand in his, and he leads you inside. You’re surprised he’s taken up residence in the inn, but he explains that the Tiefling children had already come to see this place as home so he decided to take up residence here as well while they worked on building their little homestead. 
“There’s a place for you, of course,” he says as he leads you upstairs to his room. “That is if you intend on staying.” 
That is something you’ve thought about at length. Whether you would choose to stay or continue your adventures. However, the decision was made the moment Halsin took you into his arms again. You were home. 
“I would love to stay, and embark on a new adventure at your side,” you say gently. 
“I would like that too,” he confirms before ushering you inside his room. He guides you to sit on the bed, and before you have time to ask he’s kneeling before you. His deft fingers begin undoing the laces of your well-worn boots. He slips them off carefully and sets them aside. Then his warm hands are rubbing your legs through your pants. He can hardly wait to get his hands on you after so long apart, but he knows you’ve been traveling for a while. He wants to assure you’re comfortable before even considering making a proper move on you. “Do you need anything, my heart? A bath? A meal?” 
“A bath would be lovely,” you let out a blissful sigh. “I must smell horrible.” 
He chuckles softly, “If it was day we’d bathe in the lake, but I suppose you’d like me to fill the tub instead for the night?” 
You nod eagerly. As he goes to fill the tub, you stand from the bed to begin to take off your clothes. It feels so good to free yourself from the weight of your armor, and finally stand bare. Halsin uses magic to heat your bathwater, then turns to you. His eyes widen as he sees your body bared to him. He comes closer to you, and his breath is shaky as he places his hands on your hips. 
“Oh, how have I forgotten how beautiful you are? Could it be my memory is not as strong as the vision before me?” he whispers. 
You lean in to kiss him passionately, raising once more onto your tiptoes. You tug at his clothes. 
“Join me in the bath,” you say with the slightest plea in your voice. 
“You don’t have to ask twice.” 
You help him out of his clothes, then you allow him into the bath first so you can settle yourself between his legs with your back to his chest. His hands are on your body under the guise of washing you, but the soap in his hands is merely a flimsy excuse to feel you up to his heart’s content. 
“I missed you,” he whispers against your ear. 
“I missed you too,” you smile softly before laying your head back against his shoulder so you can see his face. His eyes are fixed on you with unbridled adoration. 
He presses soft kisses on your cheek and along your jawline. His hands are gentle, but reverential, on your skin. He kneads and caresses with care, but he is holding back. You can tell by the way his breath feels slightly heavier and he keeps adjusting his position slyly hoping you won’t feel how hard he is just from washing you. 
Finally, you can’t help yourself anymore. You turn around in the bath and move to straddle his lap. His eyes light up with excitement as you lean in to kiss him deeply. Your tongues rub together in a sensual dance of longing. He caresses your sides gently, and guides you to grind against him. His cock throbs against your core. 
“Should we get out?” you whisper against his mouth as you pull away from the kiss. 
“Oh, yes. I think we should.” 
He helps you out of the bath and leads you to the bed. He’s kissing you deeply as he lays you down, and hovers over your form. 
“Is this okay?” he asks. He awaits your eager consent before continuing. 
His lips travel the curves and dips of your body like a leaf sailing across the river. He moans just from feeling your body again. His heart races in his chest with pure excitement. Finally, after what seems to be a hundred kisses, he spreads your thighs. He lays between them, and you hear a low growl escape his throat as he smells the musk of your arousal. He leans in to drag his tongue along your slit before suckling on your folds. 
“Mm, delicious,” he grunts before returning to his task with increased fervor. You throw your head back against the pillows as he flicks his tongue against your clit. You roll your eyes back with pleasure, and resist the urge to grind against his face. 
The dim candlelight falls over the room, casting intimate shadows on the wall. When he looks up at you again, his eyes are lit up in shades of gold. You caress his cheeks. 
“I need you,” you whine. 
“Then you’ll have me.” 
He sits up on his knees, and gives his cock a few gentle strokes before guiding himself to your entrance. You watch his face contort with pleasure as he slides into you. After so long apart, your walls stretch around his girth as though it’s the first time you’ve taken it. When he bottoms out, you let out a gentle whine. 
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, ready to pull out if the answer is yes. He lets out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when you shake your head. 
“No, it’s just been so long.” 
“I’ll be gentle,” he promises as he lowers his body against yours. He kisses you soothingly as he starts moving slowly, his hips rocking in a gentle rhythm. 
“H-halsin,” you moan.
“Mm, yes?” he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. 
“It feels so good.” 
“I know, my heart,” he whispers. “I’m already having to hold back.” 
“Don’t worry about holding back,” you giggle before kissing him again. “We have plenty of time now.”
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