Tumgik
#i need to draw her as soon as possible. someone has to do it
paper--machete · 1 month
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i'm obsessed with her. you don't know what i'd do for her
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gejo333 · 4 months
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Artist credit: @chocolate_duckling via Instagram or TikTok. It’s so cute I just really wanted to show this artist’s work. This is only the first drawing to the set. 💕You should check them out.
An Unexpected Match IX
Pt. 1 Pt.10
DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader
18+ Warning
Summary: Drama goes down at the holiday party😭😱… and did Miguel keep a secret from you?
Will you be able to enjoy your Christmas and New Years in peace?
Happy New Years Everyone!
Sorry this chapter took longer to get out. It’s my largest chapter yet. I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.
Enjoy💕
Wc: 10k
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"Gabi, this is your mother."
Gabi looked at Sofia before looking back up to Miguel as she shook her head. "No, that's not my mama." Gabi glanced up to you, something you noticed everyone in the close vicinity saw, including your parents.
"No Gabi. I'm your real mom. Not her." Sofia put on a fake smile.
Hearing the tense conversation from the kitchen Stephanie came over as she stood next to you, giving Sofia the, 'make one wrong move and I'll fight you bitch,' gaze.
"Hey Gabi, how about you go with Aunt Steph to the kitchen."
"But I want to stay with you and Papa." Gabi looked up at you with sad eyes breaking your heart.
"Mija, remember the conversation we had earlier in the living room?" Said Miguel followed by a slow nod of Gabi's head. "That conversation is going to happen now. So it can only be grownups at the moment." He added.
"We can decorate cookies in the kitchen Gabi." Said Stephanie as Gabi slowly walked over to her before taking her hand. Stephanie looked at you giving you a small hopeful smile before disappearing into the kitchen.
"I'm guessing you need to tell us something?" Said your father as he crossed his arms looking between you, Miguel and Sofia.
Sofia smirked, "wow, your parents don't know that their daughter has been fucking a man almost two decades older than her for the last few months." She chuckled, knowing full well that she just told your biggest secret the most horrible way possible.
"Sofia." Miguel snapped at her warning her to stop. But it was too late. You looked to your shocked and upset parents before scanning around the nearby people who heard the conversation.
"This was not how you were supposed to find out." You tell them.
"Backyard now." Your Father said. Your eyes widen, shocked from his angry tone. You had never heard you father speak to you like that. Not once.
"You. We're not finish yet." Miguel said to Sofia. You'd never seen Miguel give such a muderous glare to someone before, but that plus his cold tone sent a chill up your spine.
"Wasn't planning on leaving any time soon."
"And if I find out you were near our daughter while we're outside. There will be hell to pay." Miguel pointed at you when he said 'our daughter,' which made your heart melt before coming back into reality from the glare Sofia sends you from Miguel's words and you winced when you heard your mother gasp.
All four of you walked out to the backyard, farthest from the house so people can't hear.
Your parents looked at Miguel before looking back at you both upset. The awkward silence continued until your father spoke up: " you care to explain what's happening between you two?"
Miguel looked to you, noticing your panicked stars making you have a hard time to speak.
"I'm in love with your daughter and we've been together for almost five months."
"Y/n, you can't possibly be in love with a man you met only 6 months ago! How did this thing even start?! Was Tyler right? Did you cheat on him with Miguel?" Your mother said going into a rant.
"First off, I do love him, way more than I ever felt for Tyler. And I can't believe you would think I would cheat on that bastard when he cheated on me. Like I told you earlier, my relationship started after I caught Tyler cheating on me."
"Hold on." Your father said as he began to grow more upset. "The morning I came to your house and asked you where my daughter is, she was with you wasn't she? And you lied to my face when my wife and I were worried sick where she was! She's only 21 Miguel. She's too young for you."
"I'm a grown woman and responsible adult. I'll be with whoever I want to be with." You argued.
"Sam, Sarah. She's been well taken care of these past few months." Added Miguel.
"You live with each other?! Y/n when I asked you where you were living you said with Stephanie."
"I did live with Stephanie. For the first month right after I moved out of the apartment I shared with Tyler."
"So, how did this even hap-" asked your farther before being cut off by your mother, "when did you both actually meet?"
Your eyes widen, as your heart began to beat faster. Your gaze turns to Miguel before looking back at your parents pissed expressions. You knew the next few words were going to make everything way worse.
"We did only meet six months ago. But, the first time we did met was in Miami."
"You mean two years ago in Miami? When you were only 19?!"
"You had sex with my daughter when she was 19?!" Your father grew more livid, as he was about to come after Miguel. Of course Miguel would easily be able to hold his own, however you wouldn't see it happen as you step in front of your father.
"Get out of the way y/n." Your father warned you. When you didn't move a second later he grabbed you harshly by the wrist, making you wince as he nails cut into you as he pulled you away.
On instinct Miguel pushed Sam back as he grabs you by the waist and back to him. He quickly checked your wrist, anger rising on his face when he saw the already forming bruises.
"Dont you dare harm her again. We're leaving." Miguel was about to lead you back inside the house when your mother gently grabbed your non-brushed arm and said with a serious gaze,
"We'll stop paying for school. We won't pay for graduate school either, if you continue this." Said your mother, concerned etched on her face. Your eyes widen, anger coursing through your body.
"You're going to make me chose between my education and the man I love? Please don't make me do that. You know what I'm going to chose." You give Miguel's hand a squeeze knowing it would always be you and Gabi first.
"I'll pay for the rest of her education." Miguel joined in.
"That's insane. Her senior year alone will cost almost 50k for one semester. Plus forget about us helping you with your student loan debt. And that's way more than just 50k and that's just undergrad." Argued your mother, trying to scare him away.
"I can easily afford it. Money doesn't scare me away." Miguel shot back, knowing full well the intention behind her words. You looked to Miguel with a confused look before looking to your father who says, "she's too young to handle a world like that."
"Too young to handle what world? Miguel what's he talking about?"
"Mi amor, I was going to tell you soon."
"Wow, little miss perfect really is clueless." Sofia chuckled as she walked into the backyard.
"Sofia, get out. None of this concerns you." Miguel said before you stepped away from him, walking closer to her.
"Hold on, what am I so clueless about little miss bitch?" You bite back.
"I'll give you that sweetie, just because I'm such a nice person. It's kind of funny how you never thought of looking up your boyfriend. But like come on, who doesn't know about Nueva York's most successful, self-made billionaire Miguel O'Hara. And one of Nueva York's top socialite bachelors." Sofia tried to stifle her laughter when she saw your shocked expression.
Your eyes widen, a hurt expression crossed your eyes as you looked at Miguel who looked back at you with a sad and apologetic look before his gaze returned to a vicious glare back at Sofia.
"How did you even find where I lived, Sofia?"
" I found you from a tabloid Magazine of Mr. Richie rich picking up his doting girlfriend at her college. You can't possibly not have known about his wealth. You must be a really good gold digger to fool him." Sofia's words turned back to you.
"I-" You were having trouble finding words to argue back. Luckily Miguel stepped in to save you.
"You must have been oblivious not that long ago, Sofia. Because I remember our shitty relationship ending because I was too poor. And I bet the reason your back isn't for Gabi but because you also found out I have money."
"How dare you think I'm not here to see Abby."
"It's Gabi." You glare at her with a look of disgust that she couldn't remember her own daughter's name.
"Right. Well I'm not leaving anytime soon. I want time with my daughter."
"Over my dead body. You gave up all your custody rights when you abandoned her at my apartment when she was only a day old!" Miguel's voice grew slightly louder, growing more angry by the thought of Gabi being taken away from her family. You put your hand in Miguel's, your thumb gently caressing his knuckles to help calm him down.
"Maybe we should leave." You say to him, which he looked to you, gaze becoming soft as he nodded, still trying to calm down.
You both walk back into the house ignoring your parents yelling at you from the background, ignoring all the stares, and comments. You head to the kitchen as you see Gabi with Stephanie and Jack decorating cookies.
"Hey, thank you for watching her. We decided we're going to leave. I'll see you in a few days." You give Stephanie a small smile as you wipe Gabi's face off from the green frosting with a wet napkin before you pick her up in your arms. You hear your parents back inside as they call out for you, still upset. But you ignore them as you and Miguel leave.
You head to Miguel's car where everything for Christmas and staying in the city was packed. You buckle Gabi in her car seat, placing a kiss to the top of your head a smile escapes your lips as you see her yawn before you get in on the passenger side.
The entire ride to the city was in silence. You were slightly upset at Miguel for lying to you, maybe more upset since you were heartbroken by your parent's heartless reaction about your relationship with Miguel.
Miguel entered a large driveway to a luxurious apartment complex, where a man in doorman uniform came to the window with a welcoming smile. "Good evening Mr. O'Hara. Would you like the car parked?"
"Yes, thank you. Also could you have the things in the trunk sent up to my apartment?"
"Of course, sir."
You and Miguel got out of the car, you grabbed your purse as Miguel carried a now sleeping Gabi in his arms. He handed the young man a $100 tip before he guided you inside the modern apartment complex. Walking inside you were greeted by someone friendly at the front desk.
"Good evening Mr. O'Hara. Welcome back." To which Miguel nodded and smiled to the person in response.
When you entered the elevator Miguel pressed a fob key to a scanner, before the elevator began to move up. You noticed there were no buttons for levels, which you thought was interesting. Your gaze met his, as you saw that he wanted to say something but decided against it.
After a few minutes the elevator stopped and opened up to a vast and nice entry way. When you stepped outside and turned the corner your eyes widen by the massive penthouse. Your gaze quickly switched from the nice interior decoration to the gorgeous night skyline of Nueva York. Maybe if your heart didn't ache you would have enjoyed seeing this view for the first time.
"Cariño, I put Gabi in her bedroom. I know there's a lot we need to talk about. But first I want to say I'm so sorry that I didn't say anything about who I was I-" you turned to face him with a small smile as you interrupted him.
"Miguel, you don't need to give me an excuse. It's your money. Maybe I was a bit naive, as you do have two properties plus you bought one upstate. But I just thought you did really well at your job at Alchemax. Did I expect you to be a billionaire? No. But that doesn't change anything between us. I guess what maybe it hurt a bit. The reason why you didn't mention it was maybe you didn't fully trust me yet. Like maybe what Sofia said about me being a gold digger, maybe you were waiting to see if I was one or not. Or maybe that's just my insecurities consuming my mind. And I'm not even upset. I'm more upset at myself that for even a minute that I was upset at you for it. But I'm not. I just think with my parents reaction and Gabi's mom coming to the party unexpectedly I just didn't know where to put my emotions and I'm sorry."
You look up at him with tears in your eyes, trying to hold them in. But a second later you couldn't hold them much longer as they poured down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. You felt arms wrap around you, pulling you  against him into a hug, as he brushed the hair out of your face as well as wiping away your tears.
"I hate to see you this way, mi amor. It breaks my heart when you're hurting like this. You don't need to apologize, at all." He lifted your chin lovingly as he added, "I have always trusted you. Since day one I have always thought of you as a kind and loving person. Even with the slight knowledge that I do well, I never thought of you as a gold digger. That's just Sofia, trying to get into your head. She is a gold digger not you. Also, you are Gabi's mom not Sofia. I might have said that at the moment, cause I just was in shock at the party. At the moment the words to explain how she biologically is her mother was not coming to my mind. You are Gabi's mom. Gabi see's you as her mom and I see you as her mom, as well as the love of my life. And I think we should explain it to her tomorrow morning. And I'm sorry that your parents reacted like that. I knew that they might have been a bit upset, but I didn't think they would act so cruel. But they aren't your only family. Gabi and I are your family just as much as they are. And as your family and your boyfriend I will pay for the rest of your education."
"Miguel... no. I can figure it out on my own. It's my responsibility. And I will find a better part time job to help pay for the rest of college and I will set up a payment plan with my loans. Most people do this."
"Cariño, I can't just stand to the side and let you struggle with debt. Please let me help you." You get out of his embrace, looking up at him slightly annoyed that he won't take no for an answer.
"Are we really going to get in an argument over this?"
"We won't because I'll pay for it."
"Miguel, please just let this one go. Please." You look up at him with pleading eyes, to which he let out a sigh, deciding to let it go for now. He pulled you into another embrace leaning in to place a kiss to your lips which you happily returned. After the kiss you stay in each other's arms, trying to forget all of the stress and worries from tonight.
"Mama, Papa."
You and Miguel turned to see Gabi from the hallway in her Pjs and holding her favorite stuffed Bunny in her arms.
"Oh Baby bug, what are you doing up so late? We thought you were asleep." You say and you and Miguel walk over to her as he picks her up in his arms. You brush some of the curls out of her face and behind her ear.
"I couldn't go back to sleep. And I heard you crying mama and I wanted to give you a hug to make you feel better." Said Gabi as she pouted, not liking the thought that you were sad. You took Gabi into your arms as you gave her a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head.
"I'm sorry if I woke you. I'm alright though, but thank you for your hug. It helped a lot." You smiled which made Gabi's pout turn into a grin as she wrapped her arms around your neck, "I love you mama."
"I love you too my baby bug. Now let's get you back to bed."
"Wait, who was that lady at the party? Papa said she was my mama, but you are my mama." You and Miguel look at each other before you both sit on the sofa in the living room. Miguel picked up Gabi and sat her on his lap as you sat right next to him, putting her feet on your lap.
"I'm sorry if I confused you earlier, princesa."
"I asked Auntie Stephanie and Uncle Jackie, but they wouldn't tell me anything. They just kept on giving me cookies to decorate." Gabi pouted slightly. You internally chuckled when you heard Gabi call your brother Uncle Jackie. You were never going to stop teasing him about that.
"Well I'm glad they didn't tell you because it's better that Mama and I explain it to you." Said Miguel as you noticed he try to stifle a laugh from the silly nickname she gave your older brother. Miguel looked back at you, worry in his eyes. You smiled softly and brushed some of his dark curls that have fallen out of place behind his ear. Even though Miguel has been in the parenting game a lot longer than you, you could see that he was still learning too. He smiled at you before taking a deep breath and exhaling.
" Sometimes not all Mama's and Papa's are biologically related to their children. But that doesn't mean they aren't your Mamas and Papas. The woman you met today, she isn't your Mama. I'm sorry that I confused you earlier. Papa wasn't thinking properly. Y/n is your Mama, but the woman you met today, Sofia, she carried and gave birth to you."
"Are you bio-logitally to me Papa?" You and Miguel lightly chuckled as Gabi tried to pronounce such a big word for her age.
"Yes, I am."
"How did you help that lady bring me to life?" Both your and Miguel's eyes widen from her question as your cheeks tinted pink and Miguel coughed from the sudden question.
"That's a question that will be answered when you're old enough to understand." You chuckle as you pick Gabi up and hold her in your arms. "But even though I didn't give birth to you. You'll always be my daughter and my baby bug. And I will always love you."
"I love you too Mama." Gabi wrapped her tiny arms around your neck again giving you another hug.
"Now let's get you to bed."
All exhausted from the hectic events taking place both you and Miguel got undressed and under the covers, falling asleep right away in each others arms.
The next morning you woke up to the beautiful city view skyline, bringing a warm smile to your face happy to finally enjoy the beautiful scenery before you. You sit up to look for your phone, but notice it was on Miguel's side table charging. Another smile came to your face, as you loved how thoughtful Miguel was to you. Knowing that the sun was up, you knew he would be up any minute so to get your phone you decided to straddle him before leaning over to grab your phone.
You turned it back on a frown forming on your lips as you saw the hundreds of texts and miscalls from your parents and siblings. You scrolled through some of them, and rolled your eyes seeing the repetitive cruel things your parents said yesterday now on text. The messages from your brothers were nicer, just trying to be the bridge between the two disputing sides.
Large hands made their way to your waist, as his thumb gently rubbed circles to your sides. You places the phone to the side as your frown is replaced by a warm smile as you looked down at your half-awake boyfriend.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, cariño. Though I'm really enjoying waking up to you straddling me, I didn't think I would see you frowning first thing when I see your beautiful face. What's wrong?"
You leaned down and gave him a good morning kiss, to which Miguel took the advantage of wrapping his arms around you and bringing you down on to his chest, which made you laugh in surprise between his loving kisses. Placing one more kiss to his lips you place your face in the crook of his neck, enjoying the mixture of his shampoo and cologne blending into a welcoming scent of citrus, bamboo, amber, patchouli and musk. With his alluring smell, the gently combing his fingers through your hair, and the rhythm of his beating heart made you almost fall back asleep.
"I checked my phone, thank you for charging it for me. But I saw what feels like a hundred texts and miss calls from my parents. And it's all the same horrible stuff they were saying last night."
"I'm sorry you had to see that. Obviously they'll be calling us both today. I just say we ignore it for now and enjoy the our time in the city." Miguel said after checking his phone to see just as many texts and miss calls from your parents.
"I think that's a good idea. Oh, forgot to say. Merry Christmas Eve." You kiss up his neck to his chin before reaching his plush lips.
"Merry Christmas Eve, mi amor."
After a few more sweet kisses you decided to unstraddle his lap, to Miguel disappointment. But you tease of a person, whispered in his ear, "I'm hoping Santa Claus visits me tonight. But I think I'm on the naughty list." You gently kiss the side of his neck before getting up from the bed and leaving a blushing Miguel as you quickly put on a pair of his sweat pants and one of your bras and tank tops before going to the elevator where all your things from the car were neatly placed by the doorman.
You grabbed the bags of all the gifts you had bought and bring them back to the bedroom. When you entered, Miguel was sitting up in bed looking at his phone, obviously irritated.
You set the bags down, except for one semi-large box. You get back on the bed as you straddle his legs and place the box on his lap.  "Maybe this will let that iconic O'Hara smile show. Is everything ok though?"
Miguel placed the phone on the bed next to him, surprised to see the box on his lap as his smile reappeared.
"I guess out of spite, your mother gave Sofia my new phone number. And now she won't stop texting me. She's being 'nice.'" Miguel air quotes the word nice before he handed you over his phone so you could see. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw the sickly sweet messages from her. However, you smiled when you saw the text he sent her back, obviously irritated and asking her not to text him again.
"Enough about the pains in our side. I got you something. Ok, maybe it's for us. But you don't get to see the other part until tonight." You wink at him, which earned a smirk on his lips as he opens the box. His brows furrowed with a smile on his face as he lifted pieces of soft red and white clothing. You decide to get off the bed as you see him get out of bed, getting a nice glance of only him in his boxers before he put on the suit.
Your eyes widen, grin growing, cheeks growing a shade red as you see him in the final product. He wore a deep red Santa suit with white fluff lining down his chest meeting into a middle right above his waist with a large black belt and followed by deep red pants that shaped him just as well at the top part. And it all matched with black boots.
"How do I look?" Miguel smirked. You walk up to him as you placed your hands on his bare chest.
"Really sexy. Maybe too sexy. I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands of you." You chuckle.
"I like the words coming out of your mouth."
"I bet you'll like what my mouth is going to do." You go on your knees, eyes never leaving his reddish-brown. Settled between his legs as you lower his pants and free his erect cock.
You stroked him a few times before you dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat your lust-filled gaze not leaving his own as a groan escaped his lips.
"Mi amor, your too good to me. I don't deserve you or your pretty mouth." Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum against his cock in approval, earning another groan from Miguel's lips. Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; but as this wasn't the first blow job you've given him, you've gotten quite enough practice to be able to deep throat him now. As he continued his movements you continued to move your tongue along his cock.
"Fuck baby, I can't last much longer." Miguel thrusted his cock as deep as it could go before spilling it into your throat. You happily take him all before removing your mouth and licking his tip clean. You slowly wiped your thumb across your lip, as a bit was left on your lips before you licked it off your finger, while your gaze stayed locked on his.
"My god, mi amor. You make me want to ravage you when you do that."
"Why don't you then." You grin, standing up from your spot on the ground. Miguel grabs you and puts you on the bed, as you get on top of you he raises you shirt kissing your stomach up to your breasts, as he was about to take a nipple into his mouth the doorbell rang from the hallway.
"What was that?"
"Nothing hermosa." Miguel said as he took a nipple in his mouth, before lowering one of his hands into your sweats about to finger fuck you. However, the doorbell rang again. A growl of frustration left Miguel as he kissed your lips before getting off of you. He checked his phone, and sighed. "Ese maldito hermano mío. Gabriel's here early. Again. I'm sorry cariño." (that damn brother of mine.)
"It's ok, Miggy. We can continue later. Plus I still have that second part of the gift to show you tonight." You kiss him one more time before getting off the bed.
"I can't wait for it."
After both getting quickly dressed in proper clothing, Miguel pressed a button on his phone that let the elevator come up to the penthouse.
As the elevator doors open, walked in Gabriel with his usual bright smile as he carried in
two bags filled with gifts.
"Y/n! It's so good to see you again! I'm hoping my brother hasn't been tormenting you too much. Blink twice if you need saving." Gabriel  chuckled as he set down the bags as he gave you a hug which you happily returned.
"Juro por Dios..." Miguel lightly glared as he sent him a 'I'm going to kill you,' smile at his brother as he stood right next to you.
"He's been good. And I'm good too. It's nice to see you again. Feels like it's been a while." You chuckle at Gabriel's silly personality.
"Now where's my little sobrina." (Niece)
"Asleep. She went to bed late, so we're letting her sleep a bit longer." Said Miguel.
"Aw, ok. Is she ok?" Gabriel asked, worry etched in his tone.
"She's fine. A lot happened yesterday. My parents , well the neighborhood knows about our relationship now and..." you looked to Miguel.
"Sofia somehow found out where I lived and came to the holiday party and said to Gabi that she was her mother." Added Miguel.
"Yeah, I would probably have a hard time sleeping too. And I can't believe that damn woman shows up after everything she's done." Gabriel eyes widen before a his brows furrowed and a frown appeared on his face, something rarely that happens, by the mention of Sofia's name.
"We decided though that we are going to live our lives and try to ignore it all as much as we can." You said.
"That sounds like a good plan. Now, let me make you all a proper Christmas Eve breakfast, my brother never can get our mother's recipe quite right." Gabriel heads to the kitchen.
"I swear he wants me to punch him." Miguel grits his teeth as he sends a glare to the back of his brother's head. You chuckle as you caress Miguel's cheek.
"How about you go check on your emails really quick in your office and I'll go help Gabriel in the kitchen." You go on your tip toes as Miguel nods before he leans down the rest of the way to kiss you, giving you a loving smile before heading to his office.
You head to the kitchen wear you see Gabriel cracking eggs into a bowl.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" You smile as you wash your hands before drying them.
"Yes, you can. Can you grate some of these cheeses?"
"Sure thing." You smile as you go through the many cabinets trying to find the cheese grater.
"Third bottom cabinet to your right."
"Thank you. It's my first time here, so I don't know where everything is." You go to the right cabinet and take it out before you hoping Gabriel at the kitchen island and started to grate the cheeses for the omelettes.
"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened last night?" Gabriel looked over at you with a small smile before looking back at the task before him. You smile back as you tell him everything that happened last night, from Gabi starting to call you Mom, parents finding out about your relationship with Miguel told by Sofia who appeared out of nowhere and causing trouble herself, and then the part about how you didn't know about Miguel's wealth status, also cruelly told by Sofia.
"Wow, that definitely is a crazy night. I'm happy you also know about Miguel's 'status,' he's been wanting to tell you for a long time, but he just didn't know when to say it. I guess he was worried you might leave. But he never said that, but I can just hear it in his voice. My brother has had girlfriends in the past, but he's never loved someone like he loves you. He's heads over heels for you." Gabriel smiles at you as he moved to pour the eggs into the pan.
"Well, I hope he knows this. But I'm heads over heels for your brother. I can't imagine not having him or Gabi in my life." As if on cue Miguel walked into the kitchen, with a loving smile on his face as his gaze met yours. You cheeks tint pink, wondering if he heard you and Gabriel's conversation. He places his hands on your hips as he pulled you into his embrace from behind, taking your chin and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
"I love you." He said. Your cheeks grew a shade darker. Oh he definitely heard your conversation.
"I love you too."
"Ok, you two. Either get a room or help me with cooking." Gabriel chuckled as he connoted to make the omelettes.
You saw Miguel roll his eyes, as he leaned down to kiss your one last time before he gently pushed Gabriel away from the stove, "I'll do it. You're burning them."
"B-burning them? I'm adding a nice crisp! You make them too watery!" Gabriel argued back as he tried to get back to the pan, though tall and fit he was still no where compared to his older brother.
You smile at the two O'Hara brother, leaving them to continue their banter while you head to Gabi's room. Checking the time, you thought it was smart for Gabi to wake up. You gently open the door, as you quietly walk in. You look around to see the adorable light blue room, filled with a few soccer balls, dolls, and legos filled with butterflies and soccer balls decorated around the room. You kneel down by her bedside. Your heart on the verge of bursting for how adorable she was.
"Good morning Baby bug. Merry Christmas Eve. It's time to wake up." you gently brush some of her brown curls, the same has her fathers, covering her face. Big brown eyes reveal themselves to you, and a small smile appears on her face.
"Mama!"Getting a boost of energy, Gabi sits up to hug you. Lifting her out of bed, you stop, before grabbing her stuffed bunny know that she would want to have that with her.
"How did you sleep?" You step out of her room.
"Good!" She smiled after yawning as she rested her head in the crook of your neck.
"Oh guess who's here?"
"Santa!" Gabi's head popped up as she looked at you with excitement, which made you chuckle.
"Not Santa, it's too early for him to visit yet. He comes during the night. Tio Gabi is here."
"That's even better!" Gabi cheered which warmed your heart as you kissed the top of her head before making your way into the kitchen.
"Guess who's awake." You say, having the two O'Hara brothers turn to face you and Gabi.
"Good morning princesa." Miguel smiled at the loving sight of you and Gabi. He was about to walk over to lift her into his arms, but was beat to it by his brother. "Aw my mini Gabi! My favorite sobrina. I've missed you." You handed Gabi over to Gabriel as he gives her a big hug.
"Tio Gabi, I'm your only sobrina." Gabi giggled.
"Who knows Gabi, maybe you'll get a littler brother or sister one day." Chuckled Gabriel, which made Gabi eyes brighten up as her mile widens. "Really?! Mama, Papa! Will I?"
Your cheeks turn a bright red, eyes widen. Your embarrassment grew further as you felt Miguel hand on your lower back.
"N-no princesa. Not at the moment. But maybe one day." Miguel looks down at you, trying to figure out what you thought.
"Yes, definitely one day. But not at the moment sweetheart."
"Aw ok."
You felt Miguel give you a love squeeze to your waist, pulling you into his chest and placing a kiss to your cheek, hinting that he liked your answer before making his way to his brother, "now let me get a hug from my daughter."
"Papa!" Gabi smiled as she practically hopped out of Gabriel's arms and into her father's.
After breakfast was finished being made everyone sat together at the dinning table. Miguel helped cut up Gabi's omelette, which you smiled at the sight, wanting to keep this moment as a mental image in your head.
You recalled how the topic of having more kids has been brought up a few times recently. You know with Miguel being in his late thirties, he probably wants to get married and have a few more children. And you know that one day he will want to talk about it seriously with you.
And of course you're not against the idea of getting married and giving Gabi a few brothers or sisters, but you know you want to have your career start off first. But you're not sure if Miguel will want to wait that long. Sometimes you forget the age difference between the both of you. Yeah, there are many couples with big age gapes, some even bigger, but probably when both people were both out of school and had somewhat of a career. Of course you know exactly what you want to do, you just haven't gotten to start it yet. Maybe you should ask Miguel about how you get noticed by Alchamex.
"Mi amor? Y/n?" Miguel called out your name, concern seen in his eyes.
"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my own thoughts. What were we talking about?" Your cheeks tuned pink, embarrassed from not paying attention to your boyfriend talking to you.
"It's alright, cariño. I was asking if you wanted to go ice skating in Central Park." Miguel chuckled, he thought your slight embarrassment was cute.
"I would love to."
"Then maybe after we could go see Santa at Macys. I heard he's making a quick appearance here in New York before he flies all around the world to give presents." Said Gabriel, which perked Gabi's attention.
"Can we go! Please!"
"Of course, we can!" Said Gabriel. You looked over to Miguel who sighed to himself, only you catching it. You take his hand and give it a small squeeze, to which he smiled.
"Well then let's get all bundle up to go." You say as you stand up.
After getting Gabi ready and let her go hangout with Gabriel in the living room, Miguel joined you in the bedroom. As you pulled the long sleeve sweater over your head, your met with a kiss to your lips. Thought surprised you smile into the kiss before pulling away.
Miguel goes into his walk in closest, getting warmer clothes for outside. You walk and lean on the doorframe of his closet.
"Hey, can I ask a question?"
Miguel looks at you trying to figure out if its series are not. Seeing that it doesn't seem serious he smiles, "Of course." He says as he pulls his shirt off and puts on the new one.
"I need to start looking for jobs and grad schools in Nueva York. I don't know why I feel weird asking you this. Maybe because your my boyfriend, and I'm really acting my
age right now." You nervously chuckle before adding, "And I know you did the grad/internship program at Alchamex, well they asked you to cause you are a certified genius, before going full time there. I was wondering if you knew when they start looking for new grads and interns." You bit your lip, for some reason your nerves were skyrocketing throughout your body. Maybe because you were asking for genius Alchamex Miguel and not your boyfriend.
"Well, first off. You never should have to feel nervous with me. You know I would give you the world if I could. And I remember you were interested in working in my department at Alchamex. I can look at your resume and transcript when we get back, if you'd like?" Miguel smiled as he looped his belt around his pants before buckling it together.
"That would be really sweet of you. I would really like that. Thank you."
"Anything for you, mi amor." Miguel pulled you into his lap, as he sat down on the leather bench, his shoes and socks next to him.
"Hey, I know the topic of children has come up a few times lately." His words began to make your heart race against your chest. "And I-"
"Are you two almost ready to go?" Gabriel yelled from the hallway.
Not ready to have this talk so soon, as your 99.99% sure of what he is goi by to say. You get out of his lap, "yeah, just getting shoes on. Be right there." You say before turning to face to face Miguel, "I'll go check on those two to make sure they aren't getting into any trouble. Specifically Gabriel." You say before walking out of the closest and out of your bedroom.
"Y/n" you heard your name right when you left the bedroom, but you decide to pretend you didn't hear him as you continue your way to the living room.
After getting downstairs and walking over just a block to Central Park from the apartment and adventuring through the beautiful winter scenic view.
You walked by Miguel 's side gloved hand in gloved hand, Gabriel a few steps ahead holding Gabi's hand.
For it being Christmas Eve, you were surprised by the lack of people skating on the ice. Unknown to you Miguel had called ahead and bought for the ice skating to be almost sold out for a few hours today, letting only a few other people to skate, so it didn't look conspicuous.
"Wow, look! It's so pretty!" Gabi said as she jumped up and down in excitement. "Well he there Gabi. Don't worry." Gabriel chuckled as Gabi tried to pull him to move faster.
By the time all four of you made it and got your skates, you sat down on the wooden bench to get yours on. Miguel came over to you, looking even more like a giant as he had his skates on. After you made sure yours were tight, Miguel lent you a hand and helped you up.
You all made it to the ice rink, and despite skating every year during the holidays since you were younger than Gabi you were slightly nervous to get on the ice. But like every year you swallow your nerves and get on the ice, and as soon as you do you feel happy and relaxed.
You get a few feet from the entrance before swiftly turning around as you see Miguel help Gabi on to the ice. Just like you, you could see the  worry in her eyes as Miguel helped her to step on to the ice. Then as he stepped on to the ice behind her, he began to skate over to you, his hand under her arms to help keep her up. The laughter and smiles on both Gabi and Miguel's face made your heart melt from the adorable site. You couldn't resist as you took your phone out of your pocket and took a photo of them, making sure to show it to Miguel later.
"Look Mama! I'm on the ice!"
"I can see that baby bug. You're doing great." You say as Miguel skates her over to you.
"Now Gabi, you can't lock your knees when you skate. Always make sure they are slightly bent. And don't lean back. And it's almost like walking, your feet are just slowly sliding on the ice. Just like when you slide with your furry socks on the hardwood floors. Now Mama is right in front of you. Do you want to try and skate to her?"
"Yeah!" Gabi nods. As she was told she tried to follow her father'a instructions. As soon as she got a foot away from him, you saw her nerves come back as she begin to freeze, before anything could happen you skate the last few feet towards her as you hold both her hands.
"It's ok, baby bug. I got you. But great job on trying. I remember when I was your age, it took me some time on the once before I felt comfortable enough to skate on my own."
"Like Mamita said, you'll get there when you do. But for now you can skate with us." Miguel skilled and skated up next to the both of you as he took her other hand. You and Miguel begin to skate really slow to help Gabi learn how to properly skate, and to gain the confidence to do it on her own.
After skating for a while together, Gabi finally got the confidence to try on her own, of course with you and Miguel right behind her, just in case she fell, which she did.
After a few tears were shed, and a bunch of hugs and kisses were given to make her feel better, plus a hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows made her frown turn back into her beautiful smile.
All four of you decided to take a nice walk through the park.
"Wait! Can I make a snowman?" Asked Gabi as she runs towards the vast amount of snow covering the park.
"Of course!" You say as you follow her into the snowy field. You help Gabi with forming the body of the snowman, however, the little five year old decided to gather up snow into her tiny gloved palms and form a ball.
"Mama, can we throw one at Papa?" Gabi grinned, which made you laugh. "Yes." You mimicked her grin as she passed you the snowball, and made herself another one.
Miguel's back was facing you and Gabi at the moment as he talked to Gabriel. Knowing you wouldn't be able to get close without his crazy good hearing warning you of your presence, you stop just a few feet from him.
"Ok, three, two, one...throw" you whisper yell as both you and Gabi throw the harmless snow at Miguel's back.
Miguel quickly turned around with a surprised face, a smile appearing as he saw both you and Gabi try to hide your laughter. Of course Gabriel couldn't hide his, as he burst out in laughter from his brother's reaction.
"Oh, we want to play like that. Do we know?" Miguel chuckled before he slowly began to walk over to both of you, before jumping into a sprint. You and Gabi ran in the opposite direction, Gabi squealing in delight. Of course you didn't get far before Miguel grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his chest, however you both lost your balance and fell backwards into a large pile of snow, that was luckily there to make the landing soft. Gabi followed right after you by falling on to Miguel as he caught her with the other arm that wasn't around you.
All three of you laughed, as you laid in the pile of snow. "Mis traviesas niñas." Said Miguel before he pulled you both in for a hug.
"Aww, such a cute family! Makes me want to settle and have one." Said Gabriel as he took a photo of the three of you.
"Well maybe you should, so that you'll bother me less." Said Miguel.
"Nah, you would miss me too much."
Gabi got up, followed by you as you lent a hand to   Help Miguel up. But you noticed the mischievous grin on his face a little too late as he pulls you back down into his chest.
"Miguel!" You giggle before they are deal by a kiss.
"Ok, you two love birds. I got a photo for the picture books, now get up. I'm freezing." Said Gabriel after taking a photo of you and Miguel knowing you both would want these sweet moments saved. He handed Miguel's phone back to him which he had stolen to take photos.
After heading back to the apartment, having dinner, and opening the presents Gabriel brought it was time to say goodnight and goodbye.
"I had a great day with all of you. I hope you have a nice Christmas and new years. I'll see you both next year!" Gabriel said as he saluted off before the elevator door closed on him.
You let out a small laugh after you saw Miguel roll his eyes from his brother's words.
You both head to the bedroom to finish wrapping presents from Santa for Gabi.
"Finally done. Now to put them under the tree." Said Miguel as he lays his head on your lap, relaxed by you combing your fingers through his hair.
"There's one more gift left." You grin down at him as he looks up at you confused.
"Where is it?" Miguel sighs softly thinking it's another large present to wrap from Santa.
"It will be here after Santa puts the presents under the tree." You say with hint of lust in your tone before you lean down and kiss him.
"I can't wait to see what it is." Miguel returns the kiss, getting the hint, as he grins and leaves your lap stacking all the presents as he quietly heads to the living room, careful not to wake Gabi.
You quickly get out of your day clothes already wearing it underneath. You had seen the holiday-themed lingerie when you were shopping, and you knew Miguel would love it.
Putting your clothes in the hamper you rushed to the master bathroom, taking your hair out of the low hanging bun, fixing it up a bit. You check yourself in the mirror happy with the final product. You were wearing dark red lingerie, with a bra that tied in to a semi large bow in the front, which once untied reveals your bare chest. To match you wore the same color panties that had a bit of tulle around it, creating a extremely short, really a skirt, skirt. But who cares, it was going to be tossed to the floor in a matter of minutes anyways.
You checked the time on your phone, it's was midnight, officially making it Christmas. When you hear his footsteps coming, you lean against the bed as soon as he opened the door.
When his eyes met yours, they widened before being filled with lust, as he made his way over to you. He grabbed you by the waist as he pulled you against his bare chest.
"Merry Christmas Miggy."
"Merry Christmas in deed, mi hermosa amor." Miguel looks you over, savoring every single detail of you. He too your chin and gently lifted it as he leaned down and kissed you, Persian galore of himself into you. Your core tightened at the feeling of his hard-on against your stomach.
"One more thing. Pull the ribbon." You smiled against his lips. Miguel kissed your lips one more time before doing as you said. In one swift pull, the perfect bow was gone revealing your chest. You could see the lust cloud his eyes more, and in a blink of an eye you were underneath him on the bed, as his lips kiss down from your neck, down to your breasts. "Tan hermosa." His lips latched on to one of your nipples, hitching your breath letting out a moan. His hand swiftly moved your panties to the side inserting a finger into your aching cunt. Another moan escaped your lips.
"Keep singing for me, cariño." Miguel con tied to mark up your breasts as he thrusted a second finger into you, curling his fingers knuckles deep.
"Mhmm please Miguel." You moaned out as you near your breaking point.
"You want to cum mi amor?"
"Yes, please Miggy." You groan as you feel the loss of his fingers. Before you know it, your straddle on top of him, as he slams you down on to his cock.
"Only good girls get to cum, and I thought you said this morning your were naughty. You want to cum? Bounce on my cock until I think you deserve your release." Miguel grinned.
You lightly glare down at him as his grin widens further. However, the need for your release was too much as you begin to move your hips. You rarely fuck in this position, so the feeling of his cock stabbing deeper into you was heavenly. Your clench against him, earning a groan from him.
"Damn baby, your so fucking tight."
At the pace you were going, your hips began to grow tired starting slowly lose your rhythm. However, Miguel being your savior grabbed your hips and began to move you up and down keeping up with your quick and rough pace. You began to feel your core tighten once again.
"Miguel please. Please." You whine out your brain begins to feel foggy only focusing on the feeling of his thick ridged cock thrusting in and out of you.
"Are you a good girl?" Miguel panted from beneath you.
"Y-yes I am. I'm a good girl. Now please Miguel." You whine out.
"Of course, cariño." Miguel chuckled as he flipped you, now in missionary as his pace quickened, pummeling his cock deep inside you as his balls slap against you. His hand lowered to your clit as he began to rub it with the same ferocity as his thrusts. Another moan escaped from your lips, electricity coursing through your entire body. Your eyes roll back as you feel your release.
Miguel continued to slam his cock deep inside you, causing you to feel your overstimulation coming on.
"Fuck, I love this damn pussy. I love you, y/n."
"I love you to Miguel." You breathed out. From your words Miguel let out groan as he released himself deep inside you, now filled full with his warm seed.
After a few more thrusts Miguel pulled out as he lied right next to you. You turned to face him as one of his arms warped around your waist pulling your sweaty naked body against his. He leaned down and captured his lips before saying, " Thank you for the wonderful Christmas present."
You wake up the next morning to Gabi jumping up on you bed, with a wide and happy smile.
"Wake up! It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"
Luckily after your session with Miguel last night you both cleaned up and got into proper pjs before going to sleep, knowing that Gabi would wake up before the both of you and barge into the room.
"Good Morning princesa. How did you sleep?" Miguel said in his deep and rough morning voice as he smile up at his daughter who was jumping for joy on the bed.
"Great! Santa came! He left a bunch of presents! Can we please open them. Please!"
"Alright, Baby bug. We'll get up." You chuckle as you get out of bed and swoop Gabi off her feet to which she giggled. You set her on the ground right next to you.
"Ok, first let's make coffee for me and Papa and then we will open presents."
After getting coffee you and Miguel sit next to each other on the sofa as you watch Gabi open up her many many many presents.
After she opened all of hers she handed you and Miguel one from under the tree.
Miguel opened his which, was a gift Gabi got for him, with you helping her with the funds to get it.
"Aw princesa I love it. I'll use it all the time." Miguel smiled as he held up a coffee tumblr that read, World's Best Papa and Scientist.
"Your turn Mama!"
You smile as you read the name tag, To the love of my life. From your Miggy. You rip off the wrapping paper to see a gorgeous thin red rectangle velvet box with gold stitching. You open the box, as a gasp leaves your lips. Your eyes lock with Miguel's who smiles lovingly at you.
Before you in the box was a simple but gorgeous Cartier gold chain necklace. In the center dangled three beautiful dark red rubies. Your heart melted as the color reminded you of Miguel's eyes. Even though his were brown, you swore in the light they glistened like beautiful dark rubies. You knew you would never take this off, knowing that a part of him was always with you.
"It's beautiful Miguel. I love it." Tears brim the corner of your eyes as you kiss his cheek before giving him a hug. "Can you help me put it on?"
"Of course, mi amor." Miguel smiled bright, happy you loved his gift. You turned your back as you pull your hair to the side as he put the necklace on you. A tiny chill went up your body as you felt the cold necklace lay against your neck. You trim back around as you looked to Gabi with a smile.
"It's beautiful Mama. You look gorgeous!"
"You look stunning." Miguel says.
You enjoyed the rest of the festive holiday cuddle up next to Miguel on the sofa watching holiday movies with Gabi sitting on the ground distracted with playing with her brand new toys.
You couldn't imagine a more perfect Christmas. A Christmas spent with your new family.
The last few days went by in a breeze. When you Miguel and Gabi weren't staying in the comfort of the warm apartment, you adventure out to the various holiday markets around the city, or gaze at the stunning Christmas decorations.
Today was finally December 31st. You and Miguel decided that with the chaos and drama still being thrown at both at you through text messages and voice mails you decide to have it just be you two and Gabi.
You were in the kitchen making dinner, saying you would be happy to make some classic dishes that you've had with your family.
Arms wrapped around your waist, as a smile graced your lips from a kiss placed to your cheek.
"Everything smells very good, cariño."
"Thank you. Do you want to try some?" You say as you held up a spoon with some of the food. He happily took it and smiled. "That tastes amazing."
"Thank you Miggy."
After dinner was served and happily enjoyed by the O'Hara's you all settled on the sofa as you watch the Nueva York New Years commencement.
You look down to see a sleeping Gabi who was sprawled out on your and Miguel's lap.
"I guess it's time she goes to sleep.She's so adorable." You say quietly as you gently brush back some of her curls.
"She is. I'll take her to bed."
"Ok." You smile as you place a goodnight kiss to the top of Gabi's head before Miguel lifted her up and carried her to bed.
After a few minutes Miguel came back as he sat right next to you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around you to pull you against him.
"Did she wake up?"
"Nope still was out like a light. Nothing can wake her up if she's asleep. Reminds me of a very someone." Miguel looks at you as he chuckled.
"What can I say, I love to sleep." You smile as you  rest your head on him as you both continue to watch the tv.
The count down began on the tv as thousands of voices joined together in time square.
10...9...8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2...1!
Happy New year!
You joined in with the voices on the tv as you were standing, excitement etched throughout your body. Miguel pulled you against his chest, a big smile on his face before dipping you slightly and capturing his lips with yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss. A few seconds later, your lips parted, lips both slightly swollen. As the New Year's music plays on in the background from the TV all you could pay attention to was Miguel.
"Happy New Year, Miggy."
"Happy New Year, mi amor. I can't wait to see what this year has in store for us." He smiles wide, showing his dimples before leaning down and kissing you again.
____________________________________________
Hope you enjoyed it!💕
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prolix-yuy · 6 months
Text
Crawling Back to You
Pairing: Incubus!Dieter Bravo x Virgin F!Reader
Summary: Have you no idea that you're in deep?
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, religious corruption kink, bastardizing prayers, brief drug use, mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, breaking a hymen, descriptions of blood, biting and drawing blood, pheromone incubus anatomy, size difference/kink like whoa, monster transformation, monster fucking, PiV sex, wildly unrealistic sex, kind of dubious consent in the way that she has no idea what she's getting into so Dieter checks in A LOT, consent is sexy and monsters especially should ask for it, Reader has no idea what she's doing when it comes to summoning an incubus.
Notes: Like most things Dieter's involved in, it takes twice as long but you reap the most rewards. A little late for Halloween, but spooky season is 24/7 and I needed to put this out into the world as soon as possible. Very special gold star mutual thanks due to @ezrasbirdie who gave me the prompt for this story and then talked me through some of the ideas she had. Religious corruption kink is super new for me, not being raised in a formal religion, but it was incredibly interesting to explore in this way. Apologies for the sacrilege, friends, it's all in the pursuit of sexyness.
A big disclaimer! This is not a blueprint for losing your virginity! This is some wildly unrealistic sex, especially for someone who has never experienced PiV intercourse before! Please be safe and careful with your bodies. While we thirst over these scenarios and would love to take monster cocks, always practice safe and fun sex with partners who care about your comfort.
A second disclaimer that in this fic, the Reader defines losing her virginity as experiencing penetrative sex and breaking her unbroken hymen. Virginity does not look the same for every person, and each individual's circumstances may be very different. Virginity is also a social construct that has some gross stigmas around it, which we'll be briefly addressing. I've also kept the reader's age unspecified (18+ of course) but that she has gone to college, so whatever age you may be reading this, your own sexual journey moves at your pace and if/when you define that you've passed this milestone, that's the right time for you.
Cross-posted on AO3
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The lines chalked into your hardwood floors glow with a sudden and panic-inducing heat, smoldering as a phantom breeze whips around your kneeling body. The lights in your apartment flicker and dim as a sooty haze hangs around your ankles. Springing to your feet, you frantically search for something to smear the careful symbols to nonsense while a crackle of electricity raises all of the hair on the back of your arms and neck.
It’s much too late to go back now.
Something pulls in the center of your chest as the room expands and contracts like a great beast breathing. You try to stand strong but the tremble in your frame chatters your teeth. Suddenly the room plunges into darkness, and a crack echoes in your ears before the light swells back to full strength. Bracing yourself for what may be in the circle you foolishly copied, you peel open your eyes. 
Then, your mouth falls open, because never in your wildest dreams did you expect Dieter Bravo, famous actor, to be sitting in the middle of your half-assed summoning circle.
“What the fuck?”
He looks just as bewildered as you do, cross-legged on the floor and pulling his lips from a turquoise bong cradled in his lap. He’s wearing sunglasses - did you spirit him here from halfway around the world? - and an open silk bathrobe patterned with roaring tigers. The waterfall of folds bundle in his lap, and for a mouth-drying moment you wonder if he’s got anything on beneath. Then he shifts, billowing a cloud of skunky smoke at your ceiling and placing the bong at arms length. 
Well, he is wearing socks at least, pulled halfway up his legs and under Crocs. You don’t know whether to laugh or choke on your tongue.
“What the fuck to you too,” he grumbles, creakily getting to his feet and dusting little frills of ash from his shoulders. It’s now easy to see he’s sporting tiny black boxer briefs, and your eyes fight to land anywhere but there. They finally find the book, opened to the page you scoffed over until your finished glass of wine goaded you on.
“This can’t be happening,” you finally squeak out, shifting on the balls of your feet as you spin and press your fingers into your cheeks. 
“Sure is,” Dieter says, one hand on his hip and looking at you with naked curiosity. He’s swept back the robe on one side, showing off the shapely curve of his thigh, the soft definition of his stomach, how large his hands…
“I didn’t…I couldn’t have…you…go back,” you stammer, heart and head pounding. Does this mean you’re a witch? Did you honestly summon something with a book you rented from the library? Nothing makes sense with this man staring at you - practically leering - as you contemplate whether you’re having a dusty-old-book-based hallucination.
“Breathe, baby,” Dieter purrs, hands making soothing motions in the air between you. Taking in a big breath and letting it out explosively, you follow Dieter’s motions to sit down with him. The floor is hard and unforgiving on your bottom, but you criss-cross-applesauce with him as he leans back on his hands.
“Normally when I show up, people aren’t all that surprised,” he says, and his voice is raspy and sonorous in the room. You swallow hard, finding comfort in twisting the hem of your pajama shirt in your palms.
“Well, it’s pretty damn surprising to have THE Dieter Bravo in my living room,” you say, a momentary swell of pride when you realize your sarcasm hasn’t flown the coop with your sanity. Dieter chuckles, tilting his head onto one shoulder.
“Who were you expecting?” 
“Honestly, no one. Nothing,” you lie. Half-lie. You were hoping for something pretty specific.
“Very cute, but let’s not pretend we don’t know what’s going on here. I know exactly what you were hoping would pop up in this pretty little circle of yours.” 
Your eyes wander to his inner thigh, then snap to a symbol on the floor. 
“I thought…” You sigh, ducking your head. “I thought I was summoning some sort of…sexy demon. At least that’s what the book said.” 
“An incubus,” Dieter offers, and you nod. 
“But clearly something went wrong, because you’re here, somehow.” You scrub a hand over your face. “No idea how I messed up this bad. I didn’t even know you could mess up this badly.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” Dieter says in a carefree voice. “Mess up, that is.” You arch an eyebrow at him.
“But I got…you.”
Dieter leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head with a knowing smile. In the dim light of your apartment his eyes seem even darker than before.
“Exactly what you asked for. At your service.” He tips his head, tongue slipping from between his plush lips to swipe along his full lower one. A sudden patter of arousal grips your hips, and he half closes his eyes and breathes deep.
“That can’t…you’re Dieter Bravo.”
“Yes.”
“You’re an…incubus.”
“Also yes.”
The next question blurts out of your mouth too quickly to stop.
“Why?”
His laugh is just as quick and breaks some of the tension digging into your spine. The warmth of it wraps your head in cotton, smiling along. 
“Oh, starlet, I should be pissed as hell to be pulled away from that fantastic party I was about to ruin, but this is turning out to be much more fun.” Your cheeks warm at the affectionate name. “How many people do you think summon incubi these days? A demon’s gotta get by.” He’s sliding closer to the edge of the circle but not moving past it. A small voice in the back of your mind notes that he might not be able to.
“So…acting,” you say, not without a little smirk. He seems to like that, smile stretching wider and crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“What, should I be slinging burgers?” he asks with another snort of laughter. “C’mon, don’t tell me it doesn’t make sense. Beautiful people, sex appeal galore, fast living and high octane relationships? I haven’t been hungry in ages.”
Your hands still in your lap, studying your fingers as you let the silence linger. Dieter allows it for a time before his voice pulls you back.
“But you summoned, and I came. You must have a reason.” 
Now that the silly half-buzzed fantasy is mere feet from you, saying it aloud is daunting.
“You’ll…you won’t get it.” 
His eyebrows lift in slow surprise. 
“Try me.”
You're turned on more than you’ve ever experienced in your life, and Dieter’s nostrils flare as his jaw ticks.
“I was having a drink. A couple,” you correct, the dregs of the bottle giving you away. “And I was just hating the way I was feeling about everything going on and I looked at this book and it seemed like a funny thing, to try and summon a demon…”
“Incubus, get it right,” Dieter purrs, and the air thickens.
“I didn’t think it would work,” you protest, hands coming up to cradle your temples. 
“But you hoped, enough to do all this work on the one day of the year when magic is easiest to grasp,” he teases, tilting his head to the side to catch your eye. It’s definitely not helping the situation that he’s Dieter Bravo, solid C-list star who’d captured your attention in more than one of his movies. Thoughts of his dark eyes and full lips drew your hands down your body on more than one occasion before…
Dieter growls low and frustrated. “Let’s cut to the chase, starlet. You’re laying out a buffet and I can’t even have a taste.” You blink owlishly at him before he smirks, licking an incisor. “I can smell how much you want me.”
Shock slams your mouth shut, face burning. Your traitorous body has failed you again.
“You called and I answered. I’m still in your circle, so you could send me away, but I doubt you know how to do that.”
He’s right. You’ve trapped him here. With little old you.
“Or, you could tell me what you really wanted when you spent all this time writing all these little symbols so carefully.” Dieter’s fingers dance along the chalk lines, smile turning cheekier. Steeling yourself, you let the truth out into open air.
“I called you because…I’ve never had anyone before.” 
Dieter’s face remains cooly neutral, but you can see his nostrils flare briefly. 
“You’ve never…”
You shrug, self-deprecating smile cutting through the awkwardness.
“I’ve done some things, by myself, but never…I’ve never had sex with anyone in the…classical way.” The words are starched and wooden but hit a chord with Dieter. He repositions to sit back on his knees, hands splayed on his bare thighs. The smooth expanse of his chest begs to be touched.
“I thought I smelled something special here, and I was oh so right,” he rasps, nipping at his lower lip while he drags his eyes over your body. “Human virginity is a social construct, but inexperience in pleasure? Being allowed to revel in your body discovering all the ways it can feel? That is a rare treat.” 
You don’t expect the sudden rush of emotions at Dieter’s eagerness. Years of people either finding you broken or fetishizing your “purity” had given you an even larger complex than you thought. 
“It’s not…fucked up that I’m doing this?” you ask. 
“What sounds better to you, letting some Chad fumble through trying to pleasure you when his dick can barely handle your sweet cunt, or allowing someone with centuries of experience give you everything you ever desired?”
Your aforementioned cunt knows which one she wants.
“May I ask why you’ve waited until now?” he says, interrupting your railroading thoughts. Shyness and shame clouds your eyes.
“My parents were very religious. Lots of ‘thou shalt nots’ and ‘obey thys’. But I wanted to be a good daughter. So badly.” Dieter’s eyes are darkening as you speak, fingers pressing divots into his thighs. “So I did everything they said. Followed all the rules. And I grew up their perfect little girl. Never got caught sneaking out with a boy, never drank or smoked or anything.” 
“How…boring,” Dieter comments. It stings between your shoulders.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much all I heard when I went to college. That I was boring for not liking weed. A buzzkill because I was nervous about breaking rules. And sex…”
Here you swallow, your lower lip trembling before you bite it back. 
“I thought I was doing everything right. Everyone told me I was doing everything right. And then I get into the real world and nobody wants…” Looking up you catch a softer expression on Dieter’s face, true understanding blunting the lust.
“How have these fumbling fools tried to pleasure you?” he asks, and maybe the wine is still thrumming in your veins (it’s not), but your tongue is looser than it’s ever been.
“Grinding mostly. I think they’ve…cum…but I don’t. Not like when I do it myself.” 
Dieter snarls softly. “Fuckers,” he rumbles, an oncoming thunderclap crackled with electricity. 
“Every time I feel like I’m damaged goods,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I thought maybe this would…fix me.”
The lights in the room dip low as Dieter chuckles. Darkness seems drawn to him, settling around his shoulders like a fine stole.
“Betrayed by the God you worshiped so faithfully,” he muses, rolling his shoulders and licking his lips. “Don’t worry, starlet, I’ll take care of you tonight.”
“Can I…do anything for you?” you ask. Dieter’s smile softens, tutting quietly.
“Believe me, you’ll be perfect,” he praises, the heat in your cheeks even more unbearable. “Like I said, I’m rarely hungry anymore, but your arousal will be delicious. I’ll gorge myself on your peaks and leave you sated…and ruined for any after me.”
That should be a warning. It only makes your want greater.
“Okay,” you breathe out. Dieter’s smile widening again. Are his teeth…sharper?
“Now we can fuck to our heart’s content in this summoning circle here,” Dieter says, tapping his finger in the air. Motes of copper light and sparks rain down from an invisible barrier. “I’ve had more challenging obstacles. But if you would like me at my best, break the circle starlet.”
Standing back up, you retrieve a cloth from your kitchen table. When you return Dieter is standing in the center, prowling ever so slightly in his tiny prison. You move to wipe the line connecting the circle when…
“Are other celebrities incubi?” you ask, kneeling in front of him with open curiosity on your face. Dieter’s predatory smile quickly shuffles to confused and incredulous.
“I mean, maybe, I don’t keep close tabs.”
“Tom Hiddleston could totally be one. Or Robert Downey Jr. Heck, maybe Marvel just employs incubi to keep their revenue going…” Leaning down, you move to wipe the mark. 
“Strange little starlet,” Dieter chuckles, and a warm breeze tickles the back of your neck. With one swipe the circle is broken.
“Hannah Waddingham would totally be…” you start to say, nerves tumbling words from your lips, but thankfully Dieter’s stop them. 
He moves so quickly for a moment you’re sure he’s going to devour you, tear you limb from limb for imprisoning him. Instead he crashes your mouths together, hand firm on the back of your neck as his broad shoulders press you on your back. His hips slot between your thighs so smoothly you’re arching into them before you can think straight. Once your head is carefully lowered to the floor his hands find your wrists and press them above your head, maneuvering your thighs to wrap you around his waist. The dizzying feat of agility pales in comparison to his kiss.
Dieter commands your mouth to submit, tongue hot and lewd between your lips. You’re afraid you’ll choke on your own but he strokes delicate paths into the lush depths that keep you barely breathing. His lips are plush and yielding, pulling away to drag against the corner of your mouth or teasing the edge of your lips. And his teeth. You’d had boys clack against you, or press them harshly against your lips. Dieter knows exactly when to scrape them against your tongue, how much pressure to put with your lower lip trapped, the anticipation of them sliding against your skin before he dives in again. 
“What a soft, pretty thing you are,” he rasps, and there’s a deep grinding quality to his voice now. Like stones moving slowly past one another, it vibrates straight to your clit as he inhales deeply behind your ear. 
“Dieter…” you manage, his face lifting from his ecstasy to study your own. His eyes are somehow losing the edge of white, expanding into inky blackness. He lazily laps at his lower lip, and when you lean up to kiss his chin he snarls and presses deep into your apex.
“I’m sorry, starlet, I forgot you’ve been waiting to break promises,” he teases, sliding a hand down to knead at your ass. As quickly as you were laid out you’re suddenly in the air, legs wrapped around Dieter’s waist as he carries you out of your living room. His strength has you feeling light as a feather, barely a nuisance as he searches out a place for his plans.
“The bedroom.” You motion to a half-opened door and Dieter’s knowing smile precludes entering. 
“Eager, aren’t we? What if I wanted to lay you out for everyone to see?”
The image of your body laid bare, covered in moonlight and monstrous hands, flutters your eyes as the bedroom door shuts behind you.
“No, tonight you will remain in my confessional,” he says, kneeling down on the bed and letting you fall back into the mess of pillows and sheets. 
“You’re very fond of religious metaphor,” you rib, rubbing your thighs together as Dieter sheds the robe and his Crocs, a brief moment of clarity bubbling a giggle up your throat. Dieter’s motions slow as he regards you again, kneeling between your legs.
“Maybe I am rather fond of…corruption,” he husks, the word lighting on your skin like sparks. “Maybe I like seeing you forsake all for me.” 
If he asked, you just might. The high of his attention is so great.
“But in this moment, what I mean is we will speak no lies in this room.” His hands trail down your thighs, and now your body remembers it has no experience from here. You shake, heart pounding as Dieter crawls up your body with only brief brushes to guide his way. “My promise is that you will know pleasure as great as I can offer. And you will tell me everything you think, and feel.”
He hovers over your body, broad enough to block the paltry light through your window.
“Would you like to be pleasured?”
“Yes, Dieter, please.” 
His smile is wicked, and the scrape of his fingernails up your ribcage arches your back. In a fluid slide of his fingers your shirt is over your head and tossed into darkness, leaving you bare-chested under him. He hums with appreciation as his face descends, curved nose dragging along your tender skin. Time hangs in the balance as you tense for what may come, but Dieter only traces dizzying paths with the tip of his nose and the fullness of his lips. Up one side of your ribs, placing kisses at intervals, then along the underside of your breast. His hot breath warms skin, nipples hardening sharp and sensitive at the scratch of his facial hair. Then down the center of your stomach, a long and cyclical detour around your bellybutton. Stomach trembling, he hushes you as his fingers slide under your waistband and bunch your sleep shorts and underwear in his hands. 
Another fluid drag and you’re nude, still swimming in endorphins at Dieter’s skilled touch. It’s only when hot palms wrap around your knees and begin easing them apart do you balk. Instinctively you clamp your legs together, heat flooding your face. Dieter tuts, smoothing his hands up and down your jittery thighs.
“What are you afraid of, starlet?” he asks, ghosting his fingers over the apex of your sex. Just the brush against your mound steals your voice, that same hot shame and anxiety pulling you in on yourself. When you don’t answer, Dieter commands more firmly, “Look at me, sweetheart.”
Dragging your eyes from the ceiling back to him doesn’t help. He’s all mischievous eyes and knowing smiles, pressing a kiss to both of your knees as he rests his chin on them. 
“I can make it easier for you,” he says, fingers finding a soft crease in your hip and stroking along it. “Give you something for the nerves, for any pain. I’ll only let you feel good here with me.” 
You take two more grounding breaths and ease the pressure on your knees.
“”Sorry, I’m just…no one’s ever…” you say, but before you can explain your woeful inexperience he’s wedging his way between your legs and holding your thighs open in his firm tight grip. 
“I’m the first to taste this forbidden fruit?” he asks, and you clench involuntarily. He waits as you gather yourself enough to nod. A deep, dark chuckle falls from his lips. “Starlet, you have no idea what you’re in for tonight.”
The question claws up your throat but no sooner has he glanced at your pussy he’s diving in to press his tongue deep and sweeping through your folds. The velvet slither arches your back off the bed, a strangled cry earning a satisfied hum between your legs.
“Holy shit, Dieter, oh my god,” you rasp as he flicks his tongue in fast swipes over your clit. It’s foreign and taboo, so much wetter and softer than your fingers and you can barely stop your hips from bucking into his mouth. One hand presses you down to the bed, his chin tilting up to catch your eye. Slick shines his mouth, and your pussy throbs when you realize his eyes are the shiny black of nightmares and creatures used to the dark. 
“No god here, sweetheart. Only me. Only take my name in vain,” he growls, and the rush of blood in your ears speeds up when you realize the hand pressed on your abdomen spans the width of your hips. Black-tipped claws indent the flesh, prickling your skin just shy of pain. Dipping low again, Dieter swirls at your entrance and prods in, nose pressed tight to the button of your pleasure. The supple stretch is unfamiliar, pulling at a primal need to let him fill you. It tightens your thighs and shudders you against him as he forces you down again, the bite of claws a sharper warning. His jaw doesn’t stop, plunging and delving into you as deep as he can manage. 
“Dieter, it’s never…oh fuck, it’s never felt this good before, please…please, I can’t stand it,” you beg, a rush of slick coating his tongue. Now a true snarl seeds your cunt, and in the charcoal dark his silhouette thickens, shoulders broadening under your knees. He pushes you further up the bed, pulling even greater cries from your chest. Dragging his tongue from your sopping hole, he sucks greedily on your clit, hands wrapped around your waist to lift you half off the bed. Suspended and flowing with arousal, your hands unclench from the sheets and circle his wrists. The skin is hot under your palms, and they dig deeper in at your scrabbling touch. It’s not enough, so with a boldness you pull from a dizzying depth you bury your fingers in his curls. 
At first touch they’re soft. Long enough to wind around your fingers. You give a gentle tug and swear you feel a shudder around you. But as you bury them deeper another sensation tickles your palm. Something unyielding and curved, smooth like bone. Two protrusions fit in the webbing of your thumb and forefinger, short enough that the blunt tip brushes your knuckles. Horns, you think. A demon is eating me out and he has horns. And where you might have tried to wake yourself from a nightmare at this thought, instead you wrap your fingers around them and tug.
Like lightning something changes in Dieter. His lips tear from you with a roar that fills the room, your mind, spreading like forest fire and drying your mouth out. You hold on as he drops you back to the bed, the sound still ripping from his throat. Then there’s pain, supernova-like in intensity and scorching through arousal and fear. Your eyes snap down to Dieter’s mouth, but it’s no longer defiling your pussy. It’s clamped hard on your inner thigh, air puffing sharply through his nose. The pain radiates, and you realize he’s bit you. Not an overzealous love bite, you can feel the puncture of incisors and pump of blood into his mouth, the same pattern as your racing heart. Your hands release his horns, pushing you up as your mouth drops open in horror. 
“Dieter,” you gasp, but with his horns released the pressure abates. His eyes open slowly, catching your terrified face. The curve of his brow morphs from surprise to apology to determination. Then a thumb presses firmly to your clit and circles it, washing pain away with pleasure teetering right on the edge. His fangs remain in your thigh as you stare at him, incredulity on your face but pleasure rocking your hips. He adds pressure to the bite again, speeding up his fingers as your brain struggles to differentiate one from the other. 
Then, just as your spine begins tingling and your fingers go numb, one slick finger penetrates your cunt, smooth and deep, barely noticeable compared to the symphony of sensations. Like a reward, Dieter gives you the final stroke that crashes your orgasm over him, slamming you back to the bed as pain and pleasure and shame and exhilaration floods your brain. You barely register Dieter’s jaw releasing, fingers working you through your orgasm as the slow laps of his tongue lull you back to your body. Every muscle quivers, attempts to sit up failing twice before you manage to come up to your elbows. 
Between your legs Dieter is pressing devotions to the spot he bit, open-mouthed kisses with peeks of tongue soothing the injury. His finger is still inside, a lazy caress of your walls foreign but not unpleasant. Finally he lifts up to his knees and turns his attention back to your face.
“I’m sorry, starlet, you got me a little too riled up there. I’ve fixed it, but you might be sore tomorrow.” A bloom of teeth circle your inner thigh, but no blood oozes out. You felt the pop, felt him inside you, and somehow he’s taken it back. “Can’t have you injured because of me, not very professional.”
“I hope it stays,” you pant, fingertips tracing the dark marks. The tenderness arcs down your spine. 
“Fuck, you’re made for sin, starlet,” Dieter purrs, and now your attention can turn back to him. Grounding yourself with a healthy, “oh fuck,” is the only way you can fathom what he’s become.
He towers over you even kneeling, broad body only more tantalizing as he’s grown in stature. The well-known triangle tattoos you’d seen in paparazzi photos are joined by swirling patterns up and down his arms, concentric rings and text you can’t read patterning his skin. Where only wild curls were before now jut two smooth horns, curved away from his face and looking suspiciously similar to a goat’s. His skin almost steams in the room, wisps of smoke or condensation haloing his silhouette like an ominous aura. 
Then his hand flexes again and you realize how full you are with just one finger inside, even observing how thick and wicked they’ve become.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, and there’s only a hint of teasing now as he works his finger inside.
“It’s…okay,” you gasp, staring at the place where you’re connected. His thumb ghosts over your clit again, but so soon after your high it’s over sensitive, making you hiss and tremble. 
“Shhh, starlet, just relax. Thought it would be better to take advantage of the pain.” With a final stroke that lights up your nerves he slips out, holding his fingers up for you to see. They’re wet with your arousal and a little blood, a lot less than you thought. “Now that’s out of the way, we can take our time giving you the best fuck of your life.” With a knowing smile, he pops his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean. 
“Fuck, you really are…an incubus,” you say, acquainting yourself with the dull ache of your loss. There isn’t much fanfare, no swelling of emotion. If anything, breaking your hymen is probably the least memorable part of your night. Dieter’s smile falters briefly, and in a dizzying turn of events he shrinks back, closing in on himself. Ducking his head, you might think he was embarrassed, or shy. It looks stranger than the horns on him.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Touching the horns got me a little too worked up. Let me open you up on my fingers for a little while longer, that’ll give me enough time to…change back.” His smile is sheepish now, hands roaming your thighs and stomach. Instead of the skin-crawling terror you thought that would instill, you’re practically preening under his touch.
“Is this you? This form?” you ask, and you let your boldness move to your hands. You stroke your fingertips over his, investigating the smoothness of his claws, how the joints of his fingers are more pronounced than yours. He scoffs an uncomfortable laugh.
“Uh yeah, mostly. But you’ll have a lot more fun bragging that you lost your virginity to THE Dieter Bravo,” he redirects, shaking his head like he’s annoyed he’s not that man yet. 
In your brief and paltry handful of intimate moments, you never considered yourself bold. You’d let men touch you until your discomfort was too much, or your embarrassment pulled to the forefront. You never asked for the touches you enjoyed, or sought out the pleasures you dreamed of. But now, with a creature that’s endearingly vulnerable before you, your voice is finally strong enough to be heard.
“I’d like you to stay this way,” you say. Sitting up further, you skim your hands up his arms to cup his face. Your touch snarls his lip briefly before he settles.
“You can’t handle that, starlet. I’ve kept my human form reasonable, but you will not be able to take my cock,” Dieter husks. Tugging your wrist down to his waist, you palm him through fabric barely able to contain him. Thick and long in your hand, he drops his head and thrusts against you and gets bigger.
“Ruin me, then,” you whisper, filthy and naive into his ear. “I’ve waited all this time, saved myself for no one but you. Make me take no lover but you. Make me pray to you for ecstasy.” Leaning in to the metaphor rewards you. With a dangerous rumble he pushes you flat on your back, one hand wrapped around your throat.
“You want this, starlet? All of it?” he grits out, sickening cracks and pops echoing in the room. His hips force yours wide, planting his other hand by your head and carefully watching your face. The shine of his fangs whips your heart into a gallop, more ink dancing on his skin as he transforms from something beautiful to something magnificent. The room darkens perplexingly until you realize wings spread from his shoulders, thin light gleaming through the stretched web of skin. His aura crackles with molten motes, a whiff of fire and smoke making a home in your lungs. When he looks back at you, half familiar and half transcendent, his roguish smile brings one to your lips.
“Strange little thing, wet and ready for me,” he croons, removing his hand from your throat. A rip of stitching signals he’s as nude as you are now, and your eyes widen when the heavy length of his cock rests on your mound, curving past your navel and thicker than your hand can circle. 
“Say you want Dieter Bravo back, and I’ll have just as much fun wrecking you in that form,” he says, but there’s something cautious between you now. A shimmer of anxiety and distrust. You’re holding a thread of something truer than he intended to give you, and if you drop it you’ll never find it again.
“Can you help me make it feel good?” you ask, sliding your palms along his chest. Without proper pupils it’s hard to track his expression, but you think it’s awestruck.
“Of course, starlet. You’ve learned to cum from pleasure and pain, but I won’t have you suffer more than necessary.” Dieter leans down and cups your head, bringing your nose to his neck right where it meets his shoulder. “Breathe,” he instructs, and you inhale deep. Below the smoke and heat you smell sweet new earth, lush and fruitful. It makes your mouth water, clutching at his shoulders as he begins rocking his hips against yours. His monstrous cock slips in the wet mess between your legs, slicking the underside generously.
“Fuck, you arousal is so delicious, I could taste you for centuries,” Dieter whispers. Lifting up, he smiles at your dazed expression and wandering hands. They trace his features, lingering on his lips. “How are you feeling now?” 
You want him inside you, filling you up to bursting, to breaking. The need is hotter, all-encompassing. It’s surety that he won’t hurt you, that you’ll be shown pleasure beyond anything you’ve experienced. It’s lust but also trust. 
“Can you kiss me?” is what you say, and Dieter’s smile is a touch softer before he leans down and claims your lips. 
You swear you hear a hiss when he touches you, his skin scorching but not enough to burn. Parting his lips and nudging your jaw open, he traces the inside of your lower one with the tip of his tongue. One hand cups the back of your head, cradling you to his mouth, and with a forbidden thrill you realize his hands are now large enough that his fingertips caress the perimeter of your face. The threatening pressure of claws in your skin arcs arousal back in your cunt, winding your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he orders, and with a magnificent beat of bat wings his silhouette glows with dancing light much like a breath sparking fire to life. The warm hue of his human skin has gilded to gold, tattoos moving along the dips and peaks of his body. Eyes black and fathomless, his smile is a lifeboat in a raging ocean. He lets the heavy weight of his tongue wet his lower lip as your eyes widen, hefty cock lifting from your mound to press at your entrance. Scrabbling fear overtakes you, and you clutch at Dieter’s shoulders as the pressure mounts. 
“Again, starlet,” he croons, but his voice is the rumbling of great stones moving over one another as you inhale deep of his scent. Cool water pours through your limbs, easing your muscles and letting your legs drop open wide. His other hand presses at your lower back and arches you off the bed, resting your thighs atop his own. Then, with a controlled push his head breaches you, wrenching a wrecked moan from deep in your chest. He stops as soon as he’s engulfed in your heat, the only betrayal of his own state residing in the long exhale of breath that tickles across your chest.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Tell me if you need me to stop,” he grits out, but you shake your head and roll your hips. It’s sloppy, inexperienced, but he moves ever so slightly within you and it punches a groan from between Dieter’s clenched teeth. 
“Please, Dieter, more,” you beg, his claws tightening around you again. Another measured advance, another wail, more snarling and groaning from the creature stuffing himself inside you. Whatever aphrodisiac he’s fed you is working magnificently. You’re full, the pressure intense, but the pain is dull and quiet. He’s watching where you’re joined so closely, stretched obscenely around his cock, waiting for your thighs to unclench before backing out and pressing deeper in. 
“Touch your clit,” he gasps, “Rub that pretty clit so you can take all of me.”
Your fingers are nowhere as decadent as his tongue but they pull bursts of ecstasy close to the surface. Venturing a look down, you’re dismayed to see he’s barely halfway there, so much more of his pulsing cock still to take. He already feels like he’s in your stomach, battering against your lungs. Tears spring to your eyes, lower lip wobbling.
“It’s not going to work,” you whisper, and even with the knowledge that Dieter could turn human at any point you still wallow in the rejection you anticipate. Not good enough for anyone, not even the person you called for.
“Shhh,” Dieter soothes, easing you back down to the bed. He tugs over pillows to tuck under your hips before covering you with his body, still looking in your eyes even at his towering height. “Breathe. Do you want me to stop? I can let you rest, change back to my human form. If you can take all of this…” His hips twitch forward, a soft cry tumbling out. “...then you can take my human cock perfectly.” With a tenderness your eyes water for, he strokes his thumb along your cheek. “Do you want me to stop?”
It’s already so much, so intense and mind-blowing, but you can’t help yourself. 
“I want all of it, Dieter,” you say, consequences be damned.
Much in the same way touching his horns unleashed something in Dieter, hearing those words unlocks something even more primal and greedy in his face. Dropping down to his elbows, he presses your face against his neck. 
“Bite,” he orders, the word igniting every pleasure center in your body. “Hard, starlet, give me one as good as I gave you.” The words are barely out before you sink your teeth into the crook of his neck, but instead of blood or other ichor you’re flooded with pleasure. The sensation rips an orgasm out of you, hips bucking on his cock. You register Dieter pulling out to the tip before slamming his hips into yours, seating himself fully inside your throbbing cunt. You don’t know how your body makes room for him, how you’re not screaming (well, maybe screaming some), but he’s inside you and littering your body with, “oh fuck, oh fuuuuucks” as he swirls his hips. 
“I did it,” you coo in pleasure-dipped delirium, head flopping back on a pillow as Dieter starts thrusting into you in slow passes.
“You sure fucking did sweetheart, look at that perfect pussy taking my monster cock,” he praises, now sliding along your clit with focus. The overstimulation rolls right into desire again as your cunt learns how to gorge itself on pleasure. 
“It feels…good,” you say, bearing down on his thrusts to meet him with a little more force. He purrs in admiration, starting to speed up ever so slightly. 
“Yeah? Like how good you feel all stuffed full?” Dieter asks but it’s nonsense now, his focus pulling between your face and his cock pumping in and out of you. There’s a little more pain now, places where his cock brushes that zip sharp up your spine, but it’s far from unpleasant. In fact, you might like it. Maybe really like it. 
“More, Dieter. Want to feel you. Please,” you moan, restraint flickering in Dieter’s eyes. 
“Fuck, baby, you can’t say shit like that when I’m so deep in you, I won’t be able to…” His thought falls off as his thrusts speed up, a little more force at the end each time. It’s kissing at something devastating inside, something clawing its way to the surface through years of shame and dread.
“Please Dieter, I’ll beg for it. I’ll…” Your brain wraps around a wicked idea. “I’ll pray for it.”
That does the trick. Dieter’s lips curl back in a snarl as he rears up to his knees, wings spreading to fill the room with only him. Hands gripping your hips, he looks down at you not like a lover, but like a fallen god. 
“Then do it, starlet,” he challenges. His smile is cool, but his cock twitches in your cunt. You have him. 
“Glory be to you, Dieter,” you say, and hellfire light erupts around him. Dragging himself out of your cunt, he holds tight as a bowstring.
“And to your…fucking massive cock,” you continue, eyes rolling back as he fills you to the brim. “And to your true form, in all its beauty,” you add, softer now, drawing his eyes back up to you. Time hangs as he studies your face before dipping down and sealing your lips with a kiss that means too much for words. When he lifts away you finish the prayer.
“As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.”
Dieter’s smile glints.
“A-fucking-men,” he rasps, giving you just enough time to press your hands against the headboard before he starts railing you. 
You’re lost in pleasure and ache and sin and Dieter pounding recklessly into your cunt. His grip paints bruises along your waist, battering thighs marking the inside of your hips. His claws dig into your flesh and sharp scrapes tighten your nipples. Hands roam up over your breasts, around your neck, pressing your wrists into the bed as ominous splintering and cracks echo in your ears. 
“Another before I cum on your tits, sweetheart,” he pants, spitting down onto your clit and circling it with vigor. You cry out, hips bucking as the thickness of his cock impedes on your quivering walls. “It’s so close baby, just cum around me. Let me feel you cum on all my cock this time.” 
“I can’t,” you cry out, shaking and sobbing around him. Dieter tuts, his rapidly increasing slap-slap-slap of thrusts maddening. 
“You can, and you will starlet. You didn’t think you’d take my cock. I didn’t think you’d take it, and look at you now. So you’re going to cum. You’re going to cum now.”
The order shakes the room, pictures rattling on the wall as a final flick hurtles you off into oblivion with Dieter’s roaring triumph right behind. He’s somehow still fucking his cock into you even though you’re so tight it almost hurts to be cumming so good. A final crackling roar and you’re achingly empty, followed by a hot splash of cum across your stomach. Then another cresting your breast, and more and more until you’re covered in it, sticky trails sliding to pool in your bellybutton and drip over your sides onto the covers. Dieter is gasping above you, glowing like a sacred artifact as he pumps the last drops from his cock. 
You close your eyes once and it’s a mistake. As soon as you let your eyelids touch exhaustion grips you, fighting your desperate attempts to reopen them. It’s battling this bone-deep tired when you experience Dieter’s return to a human form. The horns receding, tattoos fading to just the ones that grace tabloid pages. The wings fold away, and soon a sexy as hell rumpled and soft body replaces the supernatural one. 
“Wore you out, starlet?” Dieter Bravo asks, kneeling between your parted knees with a rakish smile. You try to return it with a nod but your whole body is heavy, the mess barely bothering you. Dieter hums thoughtfully, and in a few moments a warm washcloth is cleaning up his cum.
“Side effect of my influence, helps a lot in the moment but it’s got some pretty strong sedative properties. Good for a speedy exit.” His chuckle sounds faraway now, even as you try to clutch at it.
“Stay,” you manage to croak out, hands seeking his body. You find his hair again, nose buried in your sex as he licks softly at your folds. The building ache there creeps back down to something dull and manageable.
“Our contract is up, can’t stay once you’ve given me what I’m owed.” Dieter’s lips start leaving small kisses along your abdomen, fingers soothing your skin. “Even if it was very, very good.”
“Please,” you try again, racking your rapidly puttying mind for anything to keep his hands on you. 
“Even when you say it so sweetly,” Dieter says, but there’s melancholy now. It glances off your fingertips as sleep pulls you under. 
In the between world of dreams, you think he says something more to you, but Morpheus snatches it away. 
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Hail, starlet, full of grace, Dieter is with thee. 
This might be the silliest thing I’ve ever…well, hmm…
Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, all those delectable orgasms you gave me.
Holy starlet, bringer of…something special.
Pray for this sinner.
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There’s blood on your sheets when you wake, though less than you expected. There’s also less pain, though the ache takes your breath away when you sit up too fast. Hobbling to the bathroom with the cool pink of morning light guiding, you inspect your body in the mirror. 
You don’t look much different than before. Some strange notion of losing your virginity making you suddenly appear “mature” is dashed away. Maybe there’s a little glint of a secret in your eye, but not much more. Actually, surprisingly not much more. You expected bruises, scratches along your body and love bites marring your landscape. Instead your canvas is unblemished, no marks or injuries to hide. It’s almost as if he’d never been there.
Sitting down on the toilet, you wonder if maybe he wasn’t. That you dreamt up debauchery due to food poisoning or someone spiking the punch at the Halloween party. You couldn’t possibly have summoned an incubus. 
A dark mark inside your thigh catches your attention, and any doubts dissipate. A ring of teeth, four larger fangs prominent, marrs the inside of your thigh. Brushing your fingertips over the circle, the skittering thrill of those memories settle in your chest. 
You ride on the endorphins for a few days, a handful of people noticing. A work friend tries to interrogate you on it but “a lady never tells” is a saucy enough reply for her to give an approving look. You buy a new bed online, the base of yours splintered to ruin, but you keep the cracked headboard like a souvenir.
Online dating doesn’t seem as daunting now that you’re not so worried about the dreaded “first time.” You even accept a few dates, meet some generally nice men with generally boring personalities. They don’t make your heart race like a certain celebrity whose name you googled briefly before slamming your laptop shut. They certainly don’t kiss like him, or make sexy little jokes or terrify you as much as intrigue you. 
So for a while you try to move on. There’s no other option, right? Dieter Bravo the Movie Star would never give you a second thought. Dieter Bravo the Incubus surely has better things to do, more lascivious living. So you try to find something even remotely like what you felt that night.
It’s mid-November when you find yourself sitting on your living room floor again, piece of chalk in hand. You lit candles this time, bought black lace lingerie, made yourself up to feel pretty. It doesn’t help your shaking hands as you pull the rug off the summoning circle. Touching up a few spots, you settle by the broken line where you released Dieter. It all popped off when you completed the circle last time, so with a deep breath and a swipe of the chalk, you reconnect the chalk.
And you wait.
And wait.
A bulb in a lamp flickers but it’s brief. An errant breeze almost snuffs out a candle. But nothing happens. Your knees are sore, eyes watering but you blink the tears away. 
It was a long shot, you have to admit. A fluke chance, never to be repeated. You’ll have to settle for something bland, safe, loving but…
Nothing like Dieter.
You’re about to get up from the floor when one other idea tempts you. Something you thought he might have said before leaving you ruined.
Pray for this sinner.
Clasping your hands in your lap, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. 
It’s been a long time since you last prayed.
“Dieter…” you whisper. The fine hairs on your neck rise up, but you press on.
“Dieter, I pray to thee,” you continue, closing your eyes. “Come to me in my hour of need.”
A pause, then a final entreaty. “Please.”
A rumble creeps into your body, tiny puffs of candles snuffing out reaching your ears. You dare not open your eyes yet, too hopeful for disappointment. Instead you wait, and hope.
A hot hand, thick fingered and human, slides up your chest, over your throat and cups your chin. Relief floods your body, melting back against a solid chest and chuckling lips.
“Hello, starlet,” Dieter croons in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers search for curls, burying in his hair as you lace your fingers with his.
“You came,” you breathe, sparks igniting on your skin as he presses a line of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.
“How could I not, when you prayed so sweetly?” he teases, tugging you back to sit in the cradle of his crossed legs. “Smart of you to try the circle, but outside of all hallow’s eve you don’t have access to enough power for that trick.”
“But you came,” you repeat, turning your face into Dieter’s ministrations. He nips at the side of your jaw, soothing it with his lips before murmuring a confession into your skin.
“I hoped you would call again.”
A thick emotion swells in your chest, and you spin in his grasp to crash your mouths together. The momentum knocks him backwards to the floor, letting you straddle his waist and feast on his ample lips. His hands roam your back, reverent in their paths. When you break to suck in lungfuls of sweet air he leans up to mouth at your neck, possessive hand on your ass urging you to grind against him.
“Have you let anyone else fuck you?” he growls. To your delight the anxiety and trepidation that colored your first encounter is nowhere in sight. You smile wolfishly down at him.
“How could I? You’ve ruined me for any man,” you tease, and under your body he writhes, the whites of his eyes trading for inky black. “Plus, one time is hardly enough to know if I even like sex. I’ve barely begun to explore.”
The fangs flash between his kiss-swollen lips, and under the promise of any delight you desire you glimpse the even more exciting fondness that will draw you back to him again and again.
“Then we have a lot of work to do.”
END
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Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through
The Arctic Monkeys, "Do I Wanna Know?"
484 notes · View notes
gureumz · 1 year
Text
burn
rating: explicit
member: jungwon
notes: fem!reader, reader is a couple years older than him, acquaintances to lovers, medieval/renaissance (?) royalty au (i made the time period as vague as possible so anywhere from the 1500s to 1700s should be fine i guess), talks of marriage, loss of virginity, unprotected sex
a/n: IMPORTANT! i was hesitant to put this out at first because i know there's tension when it comes to explicit content regarding jungwon, but i didn't make this out to be anything too crazy, so no hard/taboo kinks as i don't feel quite okay writing those for him as of now. i did enjoy writing this piece as i'm a history buff and love the drama. of royal courts so,,,please enjoy!
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it was getting too much.
the stares, the "innocent" touches, the silences that followed each strained conversation.
you had been patient. you had been steadfast. you had stood your ground.
but the flicker of desire inside you was slowly catching on, and you know, it would soon be roaring fiercely despite your efforts to tamp it down.
you gather your skirts and trudge on out of the library, knowing the princess would be looking for you, given the length of time you've been away. the hallway is quiet, as you expected. the end of supper time is drawing near, and everyone in the castle would soon retire to their private chambers.
the princess was dining with her family in her father's royal suite, along with a handful of courtiers and ladies-in-waiting, much like yourself. you had excused yourself for a moment under the guise that you were in need of the privy, but in truth, you could not bear to be in the room with him any longer.
he'd been staring, longer than he should be, and you were afraid that someone would take notice.
you had stood behind the princess, curtsying briefly before asking to take your leave. she waved you off without a second thought, though you did not miss the questioning glint in her eye as she did so.
you caught his gaze briefly just before you left.
prince jungwon had smiled in your direction, seemingly amused at your flustered state.
you suddenly blank as you turn a corner, your shoulder colliding with something, causing you to stumble backward. you reach out instinctively to steady yourself, just as a hand grabs you by the arm.
"my lady," a voice croons in your ear, and you feel your dinner churning inside you.
you straighten yourself out, smoothing down the wrinkles in your dress as you look jungwon in the eye.
"your grace," you begin. "i was just on the way back to supper."
"no need," jungwon informs with a tilt of his head. "supper has ended. my sister does seem to want to know where you've wandered off to, though."
you swallow thickly. "i will return to her chambers right away."
you bow, hoping he would drop the conversation, but you feel his hand lay gently on your shoulder. you freeze, acutely aware that no man who isn't your lover or husband should be touching you like this in public.
"i'm sure she would not mind if you stayed out a little longer?" jungwon says as you fiddle with the lace trim on your bodice.
"doing what, your grace?" you question, turning back to look at him.
jungwon smiles, his dimples prominent in the firelit hall.
"take a walk with me," jungwon offers.
"if she asks where you've been, you can always say you were with me."
you draw in a breath. "i don't think that would be wise."
"my sister has five other ladies-in-waiting to attend to her. one would not be amiss," jungwon tries to convince you, taking your hand in his.
"what i meant was, it would not be appropriate to be left alone with you," you protest, watching as he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing them gently over your knuckles.
your skin tingles with a feeling you can't quite place.
"and why not?" jungwon asks, running his thumb over the spot where he had kissed your hand.
you look into his large, cat-like eyes. you're bewildered at how dashing he looks in this proximity, the sharp line of his nose exaggerated by the shadows cast by the torches around you. his lips curve into another one of his handsome smiles, and the way he looks at you is more than enough cause for you to shake inwardly with want.
"you know why," you finally answer. "it is not proper."
jungwon cocks his head to the side as if waiting for you to continue.
"we're not betrothed, or known lovers, for that matter. the direction we're heading..."
you pause, hoping jungwon would understand what you're talking about.
"it's dangerous."
"do you not hold any affection for me, lady ______?" jungwon addresses you formally, perhaps a jest, given the smirk playing on his lips.
"i had thought you did," jungwon continues, reaching out to toy with a loose strand of your hair that seemed to have fallen from the intricate braids that decorate your head.
"why would you think that?" you challenge. your heart beats twice as fast now.
the flicker of flames begins to crackle.
"you do not throw yourself at me like the other ladies in this castle do," jungwon replies, his thumb ghosting over your cheek and down your jaw.
"you avoid me, make any excuse to separate yourself from me," jungwon goes on.
"but when you do find yourself in my presence, your eyes cannot seem to leave mine."
you inhale sharply.
it's true. much like earlier, you make such efforts to create as much distance as possible between you and jungwon. like a fox slinking away from its predator.
but to you, jungwon was like a city cat: sly and clever. despite the couple of years you had on him, he was always one step ahead. you could never escape him. it didn't matter how grand his family's castle was, you will always find your way to each other.
"do you hold any affection for me, your grace?" you ask, raising a brow.
jungwon chuckles at this.
"of course."
your eyes widen at his admission and a laugh escapes the prince's lips.
"you thought i would shy away from such a confession?" jungwon taunts, stepping closer, his hands resting on your waist.
the fire burns brighter, still.
jungwon leans in and panic fills you. you were not in one of the castle's secluded corners where shadows are ready to conceal whatever is to come next. anyone could walk by and find you and the prince in this compromising position.
but all is forgotten when jungwon presses his lips against yours, gentle and cautious, as if wary that he might scare you off.
as a lady of a respectable background, you have always been reminded by your family to keep your virtue with you. you are not to mess with boys and no such inappropriate behavior shall be tolerated from you.
as a lady of a respectable background, you had your way around this.
this is not the first time you've been kissed, but the weak peck of lips against your own when you were but a young girl was nothing compared to the way jungwon's lips seems to be melting against yours.
you pull jungwon closer by the front of his tunic, feeling the firm muscles shifting beneath.
"we mustn't," you protest weakly against his lips. "not here."
jungwon pulls away, breathing heavily, eyes dark as he gazes at you. you stare back at him, anticipation coursing through your body.
what now?
"to my chambers," jungwon whispers, grasping your hand in his. you start to protest as he pulls you along, but he shushes you.
"quickly," jungwon urges, dashing down the hallway towards his room.
luckily for both of you, your destination had been nearby, and no guards are on patrol on this side of the castle. you arrive in front of the heavy double doors of jungwon's room, both of you out of breath and brimming with feelings you did not care to address.
jungwon pushes you against the hard wooden doors, lips pressing up against yours once more. you let out a surprised sound, but it's caught in your throat when you feel jungwon's hand running down the side of your leg. he dips down, grabbing the back of your knee, before hooking your leg around his waist.
you gasp, feeling him press up against you. you feel something hard beneath his breeches.
the flames are catching on, moving up farther and farther.
"your grace," you start, increasingly worried that someone would see you.
"forgive me," jungwon says with a sheepish grin. "restraint is hard to come by when you're around."
you flush at his words, but before you can reply, jungwon turns the knob to one side of the door, hurriedly pushing you inside before letting it close behind him. he turns the lock in place and lets the second steel bar fall across the wood, ensuring the utmost privacy for the two of you.
"your grace," you begin once more.
"jungwon," he says pointedly. "you may call me by my given name."
you gulp, the situation finally catching up to you. "jungwon."
"i...i do not wish to give myself to someone i will not marry," you explain, holding jungwon at arm's length. he examines your face, gently brushing your hair away from your forehead.
"we won't do anything you don't want to," jungwon reassures, placing a kiss on your forehead.
"but that's precisely it," you say, circling your arms around jungwon's neck.
"i want to do everything," you whisper.
"i want to do everything with you."
jungwon raisies an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.
"are you the one proposing to me, my lady?" jungwon teases, his hand pressing gently on your lower abdomen. he travels down further between your legs, rubbing you through your gown.
you sigh, clutching at jungwon's clothes. you lean forward to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, enjoying the way he groans softly.
"is there any other woman you wish to marry?" you ask, smiling against his neck.
"no," jungwon answers simply, taking you by surprise as he pushes you towards his perfectly made-up bed, plush with the finest covers and blankets.
you stumble backward onto the cushiony surface, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watch jungwon undo the strings of his breeches. you gasp as he lets them fall, exposing all of his lower body to you.
jungwon catches your eye and leans down, kissing you with newfound vigor.
the fire crackles, just shy of bursting into wild flames.
"we can stop," jungwon murmurs as he pulls away. "whatever you want, my love, i will follow."
you shiver at the endearment, your fingers gently threading through jungwon's hair. with your other hand, you reach down to gather your skirt around your waist.
"i want you," you whisper, kissing jungwon sweetly.
you lay back down on the mattress, watching as jungwon eyes your exposed core with undeniable lust. jungwon bites his lip, guiding his straining length to your entrance. you feel a mild burn as he pushes in, the wet squelch of your arousal reaching your ears as he slips further into you.
you have had a man down there before, but merely with his fingers. the thickness of jungwon's cock contrasts with anything you've felt before, stretching you painfully, but you urge yourself to persist, clawing at jungwon's sleeves.
"my love, my dear," jungwon says, stilling over you.
"wait," you plead. "just, wait."
jungwon kisses you tenderly, stroking one side of your face with his thumb, perhaps in an effort to soothe you. you take increasingly deeper breaths, letting yourself relax in jungwon's embrace.
jungwon gives an experimental thrust, barely there, and you groan, but at this moment, the pain is mixed with a feeling that has you curling your toes.
"again," you pant, looking directly at jungwon's eyes. "slowly, my love."
jungwon moves again, carefully watching your expression. you gasp, lips parting as the sting gives way to a delicious throb within you.
"more," you beg this time. "please, i need to feel you."
jungwon groans, his hips snapping up as he gives in to his instincts.
"oh!" you cry out as the sensations come crashing down on you at once. it feels good, much better than your own fingers or anyone else's. you watch as he disappears and reappears with each thrust, the image so lewd and new to you that it keeps you in a trance.
"look at me, ______," jungwon says lowly. you obey, peering up at the young man. he has a frenzied look in his eyes, wild with something burning inside him.
the flames roar, engulfing you, him, your bodies.
jungwon grabs your hips, forcing you further down his bed. you throw your head back, relishing in the way he seems to go even deeper. you lock your legs around him, never wanting this feeling to end.
the bed creaks with the effort of holding up your passionate lovemaking, and you worry for a fraction of a second if anyone can hear. as if reading your thoughts, jungwon places a lingering kiss on your forehead.
"i think...i plan to marry you within the year," jungwon supplies between labored breaths. "hell, before the next moon if father allows."
you giggle, elated at jungwon's words.
"hardly a choice now that i've given my maidenhood to you," you comment mischievously. one side of jungwon's mouth raises in a smirk before he dives down to latch at one side of your neck.
"you're mine, love," jungwon declares. "all mine."
you preen at his words, his pace picking up. you're left breathless as he thrusts madly in and out of you. your world is spinning but at the very center of it is jungwon. sweet, handsome jungwon.
"i'm about to—"
"inside," you blurt out without second thought. jungwon's mouth hangs open at your decision, a question evidently making its way out of him.
"you'll get it on my dress, otherwise, and that would raise more questions," you interrupt once more, your breath hitching as jungwon's nails dig into your side.
"by the gods," jungwon curses beneath his breath. "i might have to wed you within a fortnight."
"please," you mewl. "want nothing more than to be your wife, to be yours."
jungwon grunts, pressing a hand down on your abdomen. you yelp, feeling a sudden pressure inside you. it had been a slow thrum of something minutes before, but now a strange sensation grips at you from within.
"s-something's happening," you worry, grasping jungwon's shoulder.
"you're about to finish, my love," jungwon says, pressing down even harder on your belly. you writhe, feeling as if you're about to explode.
"it'll feel good, i promise," jungwon reassures, pressing his lips to your temple. his movements are turning erratic, sweat dripping down his forehead with effort.
"fuck, i'm—"
before jungwon can finish his sentence, he moans loudly in your ear, sinking fully to the hilt inside of you. you feel him spasm inside you and the movement brushes against a spot that has you coming undone, pleasure coursing through every vein in your body.
you cling onto each other, trembling and moaning each other's names.
a minute passes by as you both calm down, skin glistening in the dim light of the dying flames in the fireplace. jungwon is the first to pull away, watching you as you try to catch your breath.
"you look absolutely stunning, my love," jungwon praises, kissing you on the cheek.
you smile, the ache in your body starting to make itself known.
"let me call one of the servants to have a bath drawn for you," jungwon offers, reaching over to the row of service bells next to his bed.
you sit up, letting your gown fall over your legs, concealing any indication of the past hour.
"i think i should be the one to call for them from my own room," you suggest, pulling jungwon back. you snake your arms around his torso, kissing him behind his ear.
"they might grow suspicious," you add, laying your cheek against his firm back.
"very well, then," jungwon agrees, prying himself from your arms. he swiftly dresses, straightening his disheveled hair. he sees you watching and he smiles, taking your face in his and giving you what seemed to be the hundredth kiss that night.
"i suppose you don't want me walking you to your room, either?" jungwon asks, helping you up from his bed.
you shake your head, working out the creases in your skirt and sleeves.
"let's not push our luck, my prince," you warn, patting jungwon's cheek.
---
you enter your bedroom, exhausted and slightly worried. you tried to find the princess to provide a semblance of an explanation but she was nowhere to be found. not in her own chambers, not in the library, not in the parlor. you decided after nearly half an hour of looking that you would handle the situation tomorrow.
you slide the large metal lock of your bedroom door into place, securing you in your bedroom for now. you turn, nearly screaming at the figure standing before you.
"gods!" you shriek, backing into the door, painfully banging your head against the wood.
"oh, shut it," the princess says, pulling you away from the door. she maneuvers you toward your quaint sitting corner, pulling a chair back and urging you to take a seat.
"now," she begins. "i'm not mad. i'm thrilled, to be honest."
"have you worked out a wedding date with my brother, yet?"
2K notes · View notes
ravenromanova · 8 months
Text
On the run
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Pairings: Bounty hunter Nat x Thief female reader
warnings: Mentions of death, knives, kidnapping, SMUT 18+!!! (Thigh riding, face sitting, oral, fingering, squirting)
Word count: 3.8k+
Summary: Natasha is hired to kidnap you. But when she finds out why will she be able to do it? (I’m sorry this is so late!)
Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!
~
Breaking into The White Wolfs office building was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. You picked the lock and ran upstairs without being detected as fast as possible. When you finally found the office labeled “James Barnes” you smiled to yourself and picked the lock. You were able to hack into his computer very easily thanks to your fathers teachings.
Scanning through all the files you smile when you find exactly what you were looking for. You clicked on the filed named ‘The winter project’ and after a quick confirmation that it was indeed the filed you needed, you put your usb into the computer and downloaded the data.
Once the data uploaded you took the drive and put it in your pocket before exiting out of the computer and shutting it down. You opened one of the large windows in the office and housed your grappling hook to scale down the building. You mentally give yourself a high-five as you get into your car and drive back to your apartment which was 5 hours away from the city. And that night you fell asleep peacefully to the sounds of crickets and smiled knowing your plan was in motion.
The next day you got ready as normal and went about your day as you normally do. But as you were walking around town you felt as if someone or something was watching you. It wasn’t until you were walking around the farmers market that you knew for a fact that someone was following you.
You noticed a flash of red which you assumed was the persons hair color as you bought some strawberries. After you paid the lady you wanted to really confirm your suspicions, so you walked down an alleyway. And when you did you heard another set of footsteps. Slyly you grabbed the 3inch blade that was in your belt loop and turned around and held it to the persons throat.
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“Fuck” The woman muttered as her head hit the brick wall behind her. You pressed the blade into her throat more as she grunted in pain.
“Why are you following me?” You spit out at the woman and she pushes you off of her before catching her breath to speak.
“I was trying to capture you.” She says in between gasps of air.
Your jaw dropped and your eyes went wide. “Capture me! I dont even know you! why the hell would you want to take me” You ask as you grip the handle of your blade tighter ready to attack if needed.
“Because i was paid 2 million dollars to” The woman responds as she walks up closer to you. It’s at this time that you really get to notice her features. Her eyes are a light shade of green, She has light brown freckles that litter her cheeks and you cant help but get captivated by her.
You’re soon snapped out of your thoughts as she goes to grab your hand to take you with her. You pull away from her and draw your knife to her throat again before she kicks out your knee and pins you.
“You’re either coming with me willingly or we can do this my way where i knock you out” She huffs trying to catch her breath again.
“What!? Who hired you?” You question as you attempt to free yourself of her hold. She smiles a little evilly at your question and you just grow more confused.
“Did you really think you could break in and steal information from the white wolf and him not know?” She quips and just kinda laughs at her own question.
“Well maybe if he wasn’t a killer i wouldn’t want to steal his information and take him down.” The words come out a little broken as they come out and the woman definitely notices.
“Well your vendetta against him isn’t my concern all i know is that i was hired to bring you to him so he can deal with you himself.” The woman says and she then takes your hand and handcuffs you to her.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” You yell at her and she just simply shrugs and stands up pulling you with her.
“This way i dont lose you” And with that she’s tugging your arm making you walk beside her. At this point you dont even know if you should try to run away since she seems to be much stronger and quicker than you.
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“So you’re seriously going to hand me over to someone you know is a gonna kill me the second you deliver me” Her facial expression falters slightly at your words but she keeps walking. You roll your eyes and just huff as she doesn’t respond still trying to think of a way to get out of this.
After walking for what feels like thirty miles out of town you finally make it to what your assume is her car. You look at her confused since you have no idea hoe the hell to get in the car handcuffed.
“Crawl over the drivers seat and sit down. if you think i trust you to willingly get in the car and not run you’re even more insane than i thought.” The woman says and pushes you into the car. You do as you’re told and crawl over the drivers to get into the passenger seat. She followed behind and got into the drivers seat and started the car.
“This is so fucked up” The words are barley audible as they leave your lips. As she drives off you just stare out the window with your left arm strained as she drives. At this point you fully give into your situation and come to terms with it.
~an hour later~
As you stared out the window as the car was filled with silence. Neither you or the woman spoke to each other for nearly an hour until you felt the car come to a halt.
“Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?” You ask looking out the window and seeing just a bunch of nothing where you are.
“Because we ran out of gas” The redhead slams her hands on the steering wheel in frustration and in turn pulls your arm with her.
“ow! could you be a little more careful” She rolls her eyes at your statement and mumbles a ‘sorry’ “What are we supposed to do now? We are in the middle of nowhere with no gas and the nearest gas station isn’t for at least another fifty miles” She just groaned at your words. The next few minutes are silent as the woman tries to come up with a plan.
“Well i guess we are gonna attempt to hitchhike or find a place to crash for the night.” And with that she’s pulling your arm as she gets out of the car and you obviously follow.
“This is ridiculous if you had just let me go we wouldn’t be here.” You huff and try crossing you arms but fail.
“You know i still dont even know your name random woman who kidnapped me” She laughs at you remark as she grabs a bag from her trunk before she starts walking off.
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“Well i didn’t think we’d be around each other for long but plans change” She replies as you two reach a dirt road to follow. “It’s Natasha” The woman adds with a little hint of a smile on her face.
“It’s pretty” You admit looking at Natasha and she blushes a little.
“Thanks- uh try and see if you have any service and if you do try to find the nearest motel if possible” Nat said clearly changing the topic of conversation. Pulling out your phone you squeal when you see you have on bar. Quickly you go to look up a motel and see one fifteen miles away.
“There’s one fifteen miles down this road should take about an hour or two” You point north and she nods and you both just walk in silence.
The sun goes down as you both tread to the motel and luckily it’s autumn in new york so it’s not hot. Neither of you speak unless you’re giving her directions which wasn’t often. You did however notice how gorgeous the woman was. Granted she was literally delivering you to deaths door but hey at least she was hot.
Natasha stole glances at you here and there as you walked. For some reason she had a pit of guilt in her stomach. Normally she has no remorse for her bounties since most of them are awful people. But here you were this girl who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly, She couldn’t help but wonder why The White Wolf wanted you dead so bad, What did you steal?
The two hours go by rather quickly even though your legs are indeed killing you. The two of you walk into the lobby of a very shabby motel.
“Hi there! What can i do for you two” The woman at the front desk asks as both of you approach the desk.
“We’d like a room for the night please” You say with a smile and the woman nods and starts typing.
“We have a room with a queen bed for twenty dollars a night will that work dear?” She asks and you look over at Natasha who just shrugs and nods her head.
“Alright dear and if just for the night then it’s twenty even” You nod and pull out your wallet from your pocket but Natasha beat you to it. She gave the woman her card and paid. The woman handed you the room key along with telling you where the room was and you thanked her before walking away.
It was silent as you two walked up the stairs to the second floor. When you reached the door Natasha used the key card to open the door. You walked into the room first and she followed behind. The room wasn’t the worst but it also wasn’t exactly the best. Luckily it was only for a night.
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You were quickly reminded of the handcuffs when your left arm got pulled towards the bed and you groaned.
“Okay listen i know you handcuffed us because you think im gonna run but if i promise not to run will you take them off.” Natasha noticed the pleading look in your eyes as you spoke. She was a little hesitant about uncuffing you both, on one hand she didn’t want you to run because if she lost you’d she be dead, and she also kinda liked your presence.
“If you try to escape i don’t hesitate to knock you out understood” She agrees with a stern look and you nod in agreement. When she uncuffs you she notices how you dont move away from her and you just kinda look at her.
“Uh thanks” You finally spoke breaking the trance you were in.
“No problem. Why dont you go take a shower and then we can figure out how to get back to the city later” Natasha said and it’s then you realize you have no clothes and nothing to shower with.
“I would if i had anything to shower with” Pointing to the lack of bags on your hand. She nods her hand and opens the bag she grabbed earlier before you left her car.
“That’s why i brought these.” And with that she hands you a change of clothes and mini toiletries. You thank her and head to the small bathroom and lock the door.
You turn the small shower on as hot as it can go before getting undressed. Setting the clothes on the sink and stepping into the hot shower you sigh in relief as the water runs down your skin.
While your in the shower Natasha has the most infuriating internal struggle she’s ever had. She knows she should bring you to The White Wolf but she can’t help but feel like there’s something that she doesn’t know. She is determined to find out why he wants you dead so bad when you get out of the shower.
After you wash your body you grab one of the towels from the motel and wrap it around your body. You wipe the fog off the mirror before staring at yourself in the mirror. Your mind wanders off to your father and how he would handle this situation, He’d probably would have already killed this woman, You wish you could call him and ask him what to do…But you cant. So with a heavy sigh you put on the oversized t-shirt and shorts before wrapping your hair in the towel and walking out.
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When Natasha sees you step out in her clothes her breath hitches in her throat. She takes a moment to study your features and take in how breathtakingly beautiful you are, Your hair that flows past your middle back, How long your eyelashes are, How soft your skin looks-. She cuts her own thoughts off as you sit on the bed next to her.
“Thanks for the clothes” Your voice comes out soft and for a moment you forget that this woman is bringing you to your death. Suddenly you feel a sense of fear and your eyes swell with tears. Natasha notices your change in demeanor and puts two and two together.
“If you dont mind me asking…What did you steal from The White Wolf? Why does he want you dead” Natasha asks as she scoots closer to you and gently holds your hand.
The look you give you give her before you speak can only be described as innocent. “Two years ago my father was killed. He worked for The White Wolf as his second in command for fifteen years. He found out that the White Wolf was planning on conducting illegal human experiments in attempt to make something that he called a super solider. My father said that he would report him to the fbi if he did so and then he executed my father right then and there. I had found out from my brother who worked there as well what happened and since that day i vowed to take him and his entire operation down.” Tears start to fall as you recall your fathers death and you just sit there stuck in the memory.
It’s right then and there that Natasha decides she’s not gonna bring you in. You were innocent, You were just trying top avenge your father she couldn’t bring you to deaths door because of that. She just hugs you after you finish speaking. The action takes you by surprise but you accept it and quickly embrace her back.
“I’m not taking you to him anymore- Now that i know why i-i cant do it” She whispers into your hair and you look up to her and start to cry even more.
“He will kill us both if you dont you know” The words are shaky and broken as they come out. She just shakes her head and puts her finger against your lips.
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“I dont care what happens to me. I just wanna keep you safe.” She says honestly and you’re amazed by her. She has only known you for a few hours and yet is risking her life for you.
“Why? You dont even know me…For all you know i could be a serial killer” You joke a little and she laughs and god its the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.
“I guess you’re right. But i’ve done my research on you Y/n killing doesn’t quite seem like your MO” She teases back and you giggle and reposition yourself against the headboard.
“Yea i guess you’re right but still why are you risking your life for someone you just met?” Natasha looks at you and sits down next to while taking your hand in hers again. Her thumb runs over your knuckles and you get this feeling as if you’ve known her for years. It takes her a moment before she responds as she get lost in the moment herself.
“I see something in you and it makes me want to protect you- i can’t describe it” She confess and your heart swells. Before you can even think about your actions your lips on on hers. Natasha is quick to reciprocate the kiss along with grabbing you and having you straddle her hips. You moan into her mouth as she grinds your hips down on her thigh.
“Fuck me” You whisper into her mouth and she’s quick to leave dark bruises on your neck. After she’s satisfied with the marks she lifts your shift off you and moves to your boobs. She moans when she sees your bare chest and you blush as she grabs the soft skin.
“So pretty Kotenok” The words she speaks makes you groan and grind on her thigh a little faster. She quickly takes a nipple in between her teeth and grazes it lightly before sucking on it.
“Oh fuck Nat-Please fuck me” She doesn’t need much more convincing after that. Natasha flips you both so you are underneath her on your back. She rids you of you shorts and underwear and stares at your bare pussy.
“So fucking pretty” Her voice is deep as she drinks in the sight in front of her. Slowly she makes her way to you slit licking from there to your clit and you let out a soft moan. She focuses on you clit and starts sucking on it at a fast pace. She moans at the taste of you as if its the sweetest thing on the planet.
“Oh fuck yea right- right there” You moan and she adds two fingers into your tight hole and you scream.
“So tight baby so fucking tight” She mutters into your pussy sending vibrations to your clit that makes your back arch. Natasha kitten licks your clit and the teasing of it drives you up a wall. Once she adds the third finger that’s when you really fucking lose it.
“Oh fuck yes YES!” You scream and you swear you can feel her smirk into your pussy as she sucks your clit harder. You can feels your walls pulsate on her fingers as she gives you an unrelenting pace,
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“Cum for me baby” She urges picking up the pace and fucks into you harder. You can feel the coil in your stomach grow tighter as you drink up the pleasure coursing through your body. You’ve never felt anything like this before and you know that after this you’ll be ruined for anyone else.
“Fuck-har-harder natty please” Natasha smirks at the nickname and happily obliges and fucks into you at a much harder pace. It doesn’t take long before you’re back in arching and you’re screaming as she kisses your g-spot.
“i-im cumming!” And within thirty seconds you squirt on her fingers and tongue. Natasha groans and continues to lick your pussy clean. When she comes back up for air she sticks her fingers in your mouth.
“Taste yourself baby” And you do as you’re told and swirl your tongue around her three fingers. She pushes them further into your mouth and fucks your throat with them. You gag on her fingers but you dont complain as you relish in this filthy moment. Once you have cleaned her fingers to her liking she takes them out of your mouth and replaces her fingers with her mouth.
“Fuck baby you taste so fuckin good” She praises in between kisses and you moan out a thank you in response.
“I wanna taste you too” A hint of mischief hidden on your words as you scoot down on the pillow. She takes the hint and rids herself of her pants, before she places herself around your head and settles her pussy down on your mouth.
You wrap your hands around her thighs and push her onto your tongue. She grinds her hips on your face and moans as your lips suck on her clit.
“Oh fuck baby” She moan and her hands tangle themselves in your hair as you continue sucking. You quickly add a finger into her already dripping pussy and that drives her crazy. She’s quick to fuck herself as much as she can on your finger. You moan in satisfaction as you feel her clench around your finger, when you add another one Natasha practically screams at the stretch.
“Fuck baby im gonna cum” Her words feel like a challenge to you and in that moment you want to make her cum more than anything. You add a third finger while nipping and sucking on her clit. Her walls clench on your fingers as you hit her g-spot.
“FUCK!” Natasha screams as she cums on your fingers and tightens her grip on your hair. She falls on the bed next to you as she tries to catch her breath. You roll over on your side and look at her fucked out face and smile.
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You cuddle into her side and run your hand under her shirt in soothing motions. “That was amazing” You confess and she looks at you with a dopey smile on her lips.
“Agreed” She says and wraps an arm around you waist. The two of you stay like this for a moment not caring about aftercare right now. The silence is nice as you both enjoy each other’s presence.
“So what happens now?” Your voice is the first one to break the silence. Natasha lets out a sigh and rubs her hand over your hip.
“Well i have a plan but it’s not exactly that well thought out” She admits as you look up to meet her gaze. You nod as a sign for her to continue. “Why dont we just take the money and run? We can go anywhere you want, and we can change our names so The White Wolf doesn’t find us and we make a life together-“ Your eyes widen at her words and she takes that a sign that she’s being crazy and that there’s no way you’ll agree to this.
“Unless you think its a stupid idea, Because in that case ill split the money with you and we can go our separate ways” The words come out anxious and shaky and you shake your head and put your finger to her lips like she did earlier.
“Let’s do it” You smile “Lets be on the run together.” After the words come out Natasha smiles and kisses you with more passion than before.
Being on the run with the woman who was hired to kidnap you? Definitely not what you had on your yearly bingo card but hey… at least you aren’t dead.
~The end~
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I do not give permission for my work to be translated or posted on other sites
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itsbubbleteataro · 2 months
Text
It's currently storming and here's a little fun fact about me, I'm terrified of thunder. So here's a little hurt comfort Drabble with a reader who's spooked during thunderstorms. Please enjoy! Ps. The next part of "The Radio Host and The Reporter" is in my drafts ∩^ω^∩
Rain Rain go Away
Paring: Alastor x Fem!reader
Warnings: possible ooc Alastor
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You've never been a fan of thunderstorms. Quite unfortunate considering that when you were alive you lived in an area that tended to get hit hard by thunderstorms when they did happen. Back then Alastor didn't know this till he found you burrowed under blankets like a small mammal.
This night was no different. It was a rare night in hell and a thunderstorm was raging on outside. As soon as your doe like ears picked up on the first sign of rain, you tensed.
"Hey (y/n) you good toots?"
Angel dust asked, snapping you out if your train of thoughts. Your ears were pinned back as you managed a smile and stood up.
"Yeah Angel. I'm okay"
And with that you left. You took a very shaky breath as you walked up the stairs. Of course Alastor had left to go see Rosie a few hours ago, none of you known it would rain. You just hoped it wouldn't end up a thunderstorm.
*****
Alastor was mid sip when his ear flicked, moments before rain started pouring down. He put his tea cup back down on its saucer. His ear closest to the window kept facing it, listening for signs of thunder while he kept facing Rosie. His smile was still casual as he listened at the latest gossip Rosie had been talking about. 
"Oh and Suzan came by. Still brutish as ever, came to me because she ended up eating her husband, can you bealive that?"
"Well it is Suzan Rosie, that woman even has me at the end of my rope"
Alastor's ear flicked and his grip tightened on the handle of his teacup. Moments later a blinding flash of light struck a tall tower, and a rumbling crack echoed down the streets.
His ears flicked downward and to the side for a moment before returning to their normal position. It was enough to tip off Rosie however,
"Oh go on Alastor. If you need to leave I'm sure it's important"
Rosie flashed him her usual smile, waving her hands in a shooing motion.
Alastor's eyes softened for a moment.
"Thank you Rosie. We'll have to catch up some other time. Thank you for the tea"
With that, Alastor shadow warped out of Rosie's emporium and into the lobby of the hotel. His ears flicked, the wind seemed to be stronger here and the rain pounded against the walls. A second crack of thunder seemed to shake the building.
"Oh wow this is a rough storm. I should go check on (y/n) she left a little while ago-"
"No need Charlie, I'll do it myself"
Vaggie looks up at Alastor for a moment raising an eyebrow before nodding and placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
"Let's go check on Angel dust instead. Does that sound good sweetheart?"
Charlie nods her head and the two of them walk down the hall, husk makes brief eye contact with Alastor before taking a bottle of cheep booze back to his room. Thunder shakes the hotel again and Alastor makes his way up the stairs. No one is around so he makes no effort in trying to conceal the urgency in his steps.
Alastor pushes open the door to your shared room, his eyes looking around for you. His ears flick as it thunders again, drawing out a whimper from within the bayou that he had materialized in his room.
Taking a blanket off the bed he walks through the bayou, going in a bit deep, following the hoof prints you had left behind. He finds you, sitting on a log, hands over your ears.
****
Shaking, you hear someone approaching. Alastor was making his movements known to you. Raising your head you look up at him, taking your hands off your ears and placing them in your lap. His eyes a softness reserved for only when the two of you were alone.
As if ok que, the crack of thunder shook the hotel, although it seemed a bit softer out in the bayou. You squeaked, curling up into a ball. Alastor sat next to you on the log. Since you've died and gained your doe like appearance, you've found that your hearing has gotten better. Your ears are pinned back in fear.
Your body uncurls itself as Alastor drapes a blanket he had gotten from the bed over your shoulders and pulled you into his lap.
"Oh my doe, my sweet doe. Come here. The thunder shouldn't last much longer"
You nod your head. The two of you spending the rest of the night in eachother's embrace while Alastor talked on and on about his day, taking your mind off the rain pounding in the only window in his room.
Soon enough you were starting to drift off to sleep in his embrace. Picking you up, he stood up with a hum. The last thing you saw before you fell into a peaceful slumber was him, smiling softly with gentle eyes,
"See my doe? I told you it would pass"
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whispersoftheton · 11 months
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Hey, lovely!!! Could I get a Regency Anthony x reader with the prompt “is that a drawing of me?” where maybe Anthony had Benedict draw the reader and just fluff. Please and thank you!!!
Hi my love! Oooohhhhh I've been wanting to try writing some Benedict so this is perfect! I hope you like it!
Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader, Benedict Bridgerton
Warnings: anthony is a pining fool as usual, fluff, brotherly teasing
Word Count: 1.5K
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Every day in Anthony's life was precisely like the other. Endless business deals and meetings, mixed with social obligations, became an excruciating routine for him. He found himself dreading each day, that is until he met you. You were the only thing that would instantly melt away a long day of dodging insignificant exchanges and keeping up a pleasant facade amongst everyone. The sight of your warm smile and the comfort of your presence was enough to instantly break through Anthony's seemingly tough exterior. Your voice whispered a soothing sonnet to his ears; he couldn't get enough.
But Anthony often found himself yearning from a distance, with fleeting moments and stolen longing glances at one another, constantly leaving a desire for more. A feeling he was quite unfamiliar with, seeing as he cared so little for other's company if it didn't involve business or family. You were different. The captivating way you held yourself in every discussion, effortlessly capturing his mind and heart all at once. Anthony knew he had to do something; he needed to make you his before the season came to an end. And he knew just how to do it.
Benedict sat in the center of the well-lit room, surrounded by canvases of unfinished paintings and what seemed to be smeared paint scattered among them. He contemplated continuing a piece he had been working on before Anthony barged through his doors.
"Ah, there you are." Anthony approached him, a firm pat on his back as he pretended to take an interest in the canvas before him.
"Brother. What do I owe the pleasure?" Benedict turned from his easel, an inquisitive look painted on his face at his brother's unusual affection toward him.
"I require a favor of you. A gift for…someone, and I will need your help." Anthony maintained a steady tone so as to not feed his brother's curiosity.
"And would this have anything to do with a certain lady who has piqued your interest as of late?" Anthony's eyes widened. He couldn't have known; he thought he had been discreet with the time he spent with you. "Maybe one who enjoys strolls in the park, hm?" Benedict teased, taking great pride in seeing his brother shift uncomfortably as he attempted to hide his affection for you from his prying. "It is, isn't it?" Benedict pushed, determined to get an answer out of him. "You are smitten! I knew it!" he blurted, jumping out of his seat, making Anthony step back and roll his eyes, shushing him in annoyance.
"You know nothing, and I will not discuss this any longer if you are to ridicule me as such." Anthony moved to depart before Benedict quickly moved in front of him and placed a hand on his chest to stop him.
"No, no, brother, I assure you it was not ridicule. I will help however I can, but…what could you possibly need from me?" Anthony scoffed, briefly pondering his options. Perhaps he could go into town and find you the most exquisite jewel his money could buy; that would undoubtedly rid him of the embarrassment now flowing through him before his sibling.
"You are artistic. I should like for you to paint a portrait of her."
"A portrait?"
"Yes. I want to gift it to her."
"And will you be gifting this said portrait to her as a sign of courtship, brother?" Benedict smirked, unable to help himself when it came to taunting his own brother. Anthony shot him a glare, to which Benedict put his hands up in defeat and cleared his throat. "Very well then. I shall have your portrait ready soon enough."
Benedict knew it would not be possible to have you posing in a room for hours on end for this portrait, so with Anthony's help, he dedicated a portion of his days to enjoying the park on days you did as well. He would sit on a bench far enough away to not be seen but near enough to capture you exactly right. He knew if Anthony had asked this of him, it must be of importance to him; he couldn't mess it up.
The mid-afternoon sun graced the sky as you made your weekly visit to the Bridgerton home. You and Eloise had made it a habit of strolling the market together from time to time in order to gain some time away from your mamas to talk all things Lady Whistledown. Upon your arrival, Lady Bridgerton greeted you as always, informing you that Eloise had made a quick visit to her friend Penelope but would make quick haste in her return. You graciously accepted her offer for tea and catching up while waiting.
Anthony huffed as he signed his name for what seemed like the millionth time that day on a never-ending sea of business documents. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of a long workday requiring a break from his duties. He shut the door to his study and made his way to the main room, where he was sure whatever his many siblings were up to would engage his mind elsewhere. Instead, Anthony found a largely empty room, Hyacinth quietly practicing her Latin in one corner and his mama enjoying company in another. It wasn't until he walked closer that he discovered it was none other than you.
Your eyes immediately cast downward toward your teacup as Anthony came nearer with eyes searching for your own. It was inevitable; as much as you tried to avoid it, your draw to him was too much to disregard. Your eyes unwillingly met his. The softness of them melting away any tension you felt, pools of amber you wished to soak in forever mesmerizing you and making your breath hitch as you tried to steady the teacup in your hand. Your moment dissipated almost instantly when you heard Benedict enter the room, making both of you glance away, and Anthony cleared his throat.
"My brother and Mama tell me you are fond of art, yes?" Benedict said as Anthony stood behind him, eyes seemingly looking anywhere but at you. "We have several pieces you must see. I do think I should show you before Eloise makes her return, hm?" Benedict kindly offered you his hand. You glanced between Lady Bridgerton and him, taken back by his sudden offer. "It will only take a second. Brother, will you join us?" He looked knowingly toward Anthony, who nodded and began following the both of you down the hall. As keen as Benedict was to show everything to you, it seemed almost as soon as you entered the room, he excused himself with a hasty justification you barely heard, leaving you and Anthony utterly alone. You offered Anthony a kind smile which he returned. Unsure of what to do now that your chaperone had run off to god knows where.
"May I?" Anthony offered his arm, which you took almost too eagerly. He began guiding you through the room, showing you each painting and how his family acquired it. Your mind was otherwise preoccupied with having him so close.
"And this one…" Anthony paused as he led you to the end of the room. You must've been too distracted to realize he'd already passed most paintings—all but one. You noticed a small portrait was propped up on an easel beside the far wall of the grand room. The image became apparent as you approached it.
"Is that…me?" You were in awe, heart positively bursting at the lovely gesture. It was a detailed portrait of you sitting on a park bench, seemingly enjoying a book on a beautiful spring day in one of your favorite dresses. The picture captured you in one of the most tranquil moments of your day. It was breathtaking.
"Do you like it? I had my brother draw it for you; he is quite the artist. Or at least, he likes to think himself so." Anthony rambled unintentionally, slowly losing the composure he prided himself on before you. He wondered if you liked it; maybe this would be the moment he longed for. The moment you'd realize all the feelings he harbors for you. His head couldn't help but wonder, slipping into self-deprecation faster than he cared to admit. What if you absolutely loathed it? Found the entire situation to be quite odd and never wanted to see his face again. Your words untangled him from his spiraling thoughts.
"It is beautiful. Thank you." Anthony searched your face for any sign of disdain but found none. "I am quite speechless. I-This is…" Tears welled in your eyes, and your chest tightened, unsure how to convey your appreciation in words. But Anthony could tell by the tender way you admired it with so much fondness.
Anthony took a deep breath and stepped closer; this was it; he had to ask you now. A courtship with you was something he could only dream of. Deep down, Anthony knew if there was ever a chance of happiness with someone in this lifetime. It was with you by his side.
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I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission
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aemonds-sapphire · 1 year
Text
Dreaming
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Summary: An unexpected turn of events has you sharing a bed with Prince Aemond. What could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW. There is only one bed. Fingering. Handjob.
A/N: My thanks to @1800-fight-me for rekindling my passion for this trope!
Word count: 1.7k
Keep reading“Have I seen you before? You look familiar.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you the cunt who stole my bag of cabages a fortnight ago?”
“No.”
You felt Aemond shift at your side, probably gripping the dagger hidden underneath his cloak.
The innkeeper did not seem convinced in the slightest, keeping his bulging eyes fixed on the young Targaryen prince whose face remained mostly hidden under the hood.
“We need a room with two beds, please,” you chimed in, hoping to dissolve the unwanted tension that had settled.
The man turned to you, occasionally glancing at Aemond. “Only have one room. One bed.”
“That’ll do.”
Aemond approached the counter before you could, handing out a few gold coins that the man eagerly collected and shoved in his pocket.
“Why the eyepatch?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Had a little trouble with someone, eh?”
The implication wasn’t entirely subtle, considering the earlier accusation he had thrown at Aemond.
You held your breath momentarily, praying that Aemond would simply ignore him.
Much to your relief, he shot a cold stare at the old man. “I paid for a room, not to get questioned.”
“Aye, fair enough,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “The room’s to your left.”
Aemond turned first and made his way down the gloomy corridor to your left. You promptly followed suit after heaving a deep sigh of relief.
The last thing you wanted would be to draw attention to yourselves while being so far away from King’s Landing.
You were a riding day away from the Red Keep and were forced to seek shelter for the night, as Vhagar needed her rest. The persistent thunderstorm and heavy rain did nothing to help your cause either.
As soon as you entered the room, you nearly huffed in annoyance at the sight of the narrow bed shoved into one corner.
It didn’t seem wide enough to hold two people.
Aemond’s low voiced snapped you from your thoughts. “You can take the bed.”
You immediately shook your head. “No, my prince. I will gladly take the floor.”
Aemond turned to you and shrugged. “As you wish.”
Oh. That was quick.
Your heart clenched, but you remained silent and watched as he removed his heavy cloak.
You didn’t exactly expect him to be persistent on this matter as he was a prince and you a mere lady-in-waiting to his sister.
It was your own fault for assuming your relationship with Aemond was anything but strictly professional. Even if the two of you had shared a few journeys across Westeros.
Once he realised you were frozen in place, his uncovered eye landed on your face. “What is it?”
The question caught you off guard. “Oh. Nothing, my prince.”
“Tell me,” he pressed, arching an eyebrow.
“Maybe we could share the bed?” you suggested, lacing your hands in front of you. “It would be a tight fit, but I see no reason to sleep on the floor.”
His eyebrow arched further. “You said you wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
“I don’t mind, but that doesn’t mean I want to, my prince,” you said as your voice came out slightly strained. “It is pouring outside and way too cold.”
He remained silent, studying your face.
“Unless you mind sharing a bed with me,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem out of line.
“I do not mind.”
And with that being said, he proceeded to undo his leather jacket.
You swallowed hard, turning your back to him as you the slide the heavy cloak off your shoulders.
It was far too cold to even consider removing your dress, but the mud stains and dampness deemed it a necessity.
Fortunately, you’d be able to preserve your modesty with the chemise you were wearing underneath.
Once you turned to face him once more, you noticed Aemond shared the sentiment as he was stripped down to only a shirt and his pants.
You tried your best not to let yout eyes linger for too long.
Gods.
He didn’t seem to pay any attention to you, so you took the opportunity to slide off your dress and remove the filthy shoes.
“Ladies first,” he said nonchalantly.
You glared at him momentarily, feeling your heart skip several beats by the time you had managed to hop into the squeaky bed, shifting to the side until your back was pressed against the wooden wall.
Aemond quickly followed you and rolled to his side, being careful enough to leave enough room between the two of you.
You then took the opportunity to pull the blanket rolled at the feet of thr bed to cover both of you.
The sound of your frantic heartbeat filled your ears as you were left facing his broad back that heaved with each steady breath he took.
You allowed your eyes to roam across his body, noticing how the linen shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as it clung to the defined muscles.
Realising you had been gawking for far too long, you snapped your eyes shut, silently wishing you’d be able to find any comfort, regardless of the current predicament.
“Sleep well, my prince.”
But no answer came from Aemond.
By the time you woke up, the sound of low growls next to your ear had you open your eyes at once.
Some time during the night, you had rolled to your other side, facing the wall, and with an arm wrapped firmly around you.
But what truly had your heart speed up was the realisation that it was Aemond Targaryen who was pressed against you, rolling his hips lazily, as his shaky breath fanned your neck.
Chills spread across your skin as his hard cock dug into your backside.
Your lips parted in a silent gasp.
As you turned your head to him, you noticed he was asleep.
He looked peaceful enough if not for the furrowed brows and soft groans that rumbled through his chest and throat.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to ease his grip around you, but moment you did so, he bucked his hips, further pressing his cock into you.
“Faster…”
Your heart dropped to your stomach.
He was having a dream.
Aemond let out another strained groan as he mumbled your name.
He was having a dream about you.
Panic overtook your senses and you felt overwhelmed with the confirmation.
It was flattering to have such a handsome man crumbling from thinking about you. Even if unconsciously so.
There was something primal and urgent that you took from the way he rolled his hips as if desperate to be inside you while mumbling something in High Valyrian.
You had to bite your lips hard to hold back a gasp as the young prince rammed into you.
As expected, your own body began to respond to the stimulation and you could now feel your heartbeat pulsing through your swollen clit.
Gods.
You were literally trapped between the wooden wall and his body.
“My prince…” you whispered, placing your hand on his forearm, gently patting it.
“Hmm…”
His hips stilled for a moment and you gasped as he moved the hand around you to fiddle with your chemise, sliding it up your torso and exposung your flushed skin to his touch.
“Aemond…” you nearly moaned from his hot breath on your neck. “Are you awake…”
“Hmm…” he panter lowly, bring his hand to rest on the underside of your heaving breasts.
Oh.
You moved your hand to grip his, desperate to halt the delicious way his thumb grazed your skin.
Wetness coated your folds as the need to be filled took a hold of you.
Instead, Aemond took your hand and brought it in between your bodies, until it was pressed against his hard cock.
You weren’t able to fight back a moan as desired burned through him.
Aemond heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Grip it.”
As if trying to further entice you, he pressed a searing kiss to the skin of your neck, moving his hips in a slow roll once again.
Pleasure took control of you and your fingers wrapped around the hardened outline, as his cock dug into your palm.
So many thoughts ran through your head, but not one was compelling enough to bring you to reason.
This should not be happening.
He was a prince.
And you were just..
“So good,” he cooed, planting a few more kisses just behind your ear. “Tighter…”
The amount of moans you had been holding back were starting to strain your throat.
You did as he requested, biting down on your lip until you almost drew blood.
Aemond grunted as rolled his hips into your touch.
“Moan for me,” he said before gripping your hand and shoving it inside his pants.
You let out a breathy gasp as your fingers wrapped around his impressive cock, his own wetness coating your skin.
Aemond was soaked.
“Oh… oh….” you moaned as you struggled to grip all of him.
He hissed in your ear, snapping his hips into a sloppy rhythm as he fucked your hand.
“Tighter, my lady…” he groaned in urgency, undoing his pants, tugging them down just enough to spring his cock free and giving you more room to properly slide your fingers along it.
Before you could fully process everything that was happening, Aemond splattered his hand on your lower abdomen, dangerously close to your throbbing clit.
“Aemond… please… don’t,” you pleaded, knowing fully well you wouldn’t be able to hold back if he touched you like that.
Another kiss to your shoulder followed by a low chuckle made you shiver against him.
“Let me feel how wet you are for me.”
His words dragged a low cry from you, but it was the feeling of his slender fingers sliding across your folds and clit that caused you to jolt back into him.
Your mind was too hazy from lust to focus on his cock, causing your hand to still around him.
That didn’t seem to bother him, as he simply proceed to fuck your hand regardless.
“How many fingers can you take?”
Oh… my….
“I… I don’t…” you began, but were interrupted by Aemond slowly shoving one finger inside you. “Aemond…”
“Say my name again,” he urged with such urgency you nearly came undone right then and there.
“Aemond…” you repeated, parting your legs slightly to allow his finger to slide deeper inside.
“Can you take a second one?” He asked, his voice in tones of honey. “Can you do that for me?”
You honestly couldn’t give him an honest answer. Both stemming from inexperience and from how too lost in your own pleasure you were.
“Please,” he asked, pressing his palm into your clit, causing you to cry out. “You’re wet enough.”
Not trusting your words, you simply nodded.
Aemond wasted no time and had a second finger join the one already inside you.
Your walls stretched around him and greeted him in a warm and soaked welcome.
His hips snapped rapidly into your touch and you squeezed him as tight as you could, delighted to hear the wet sounds.
From his fingers pumping relentlessly in and out of your soaked pussy to the realisation that you had the young prince in the palm of your hand, you weren’t at all surprised when your vision began to blur.
“Sweet girl…” he praised mindlessly as he neared his own release as well.
Aemond was thrown over the edge first, spilling streaks of warm cum to coat your back and ass and hand.
The needy and desperate moan that erupted from him as his hips jerked in a final and broken rhythm was enough to plunge you into a blinding wave of bliss.
Aemond’s hold on you didn’t falter until he had your walls clenching around his fingers in gripping contractions.
Your lips parted wide to allow a strangled cry to fill the room as your thighs quivered with such intensity you had to grip the edge of the bed to hold yourself in place.
“Can we stay like this?” Aemond asked after a while, his breathing still uneven.
“Hmm…” you merely groaned, all the energy having been drained from you.
He shifted closer until his softening cock was pressed flat against your ass, keeping his fingers buried deep inside you.
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alicerosejensen · 1 year
Text
Let's go!
Warning: the reader is a college student; age difference; the reader is a little shy
I love Leon and no one will do anything to me for this. So here are some more headcanons:
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You met Leon only because you lost the desire of your friends, and as punishment they sent you to chat with this gloomy drunk sitting in an embrace with an expensive bottle of whiskey.
It was really shitty, you drank two more glasses of liquor before you plucked up the courage to sit next to him and say, "Hi, handsome."
Damn, you literally blush after every word you say, and alcohol doesn't help at all. Leon, on the other hand, laughs nervously at your inept attempts at flirting, considering your friends as shitty as possible, since they did this to you by sending you to flirt with a man 10-15 years older. But on the whole, he likes you.
Leon will order you a coffee, because cheap alcohol only makes you worse. However, you're so cute when you blush at a compliment he says.
You have a strange relationship that should have been interrupted a long time ago, but you talk to him on the phone for a long time on various topics.
You are comfortable with him as well as with your friends. Therefore, embarrassment aside! You can talk to him about anything.
His humor can be terrible, just like yours
"I was told that to solve the problem you need to sleep with her, but my problem is you!"
oops, someone drank too much…
Leon wants to be your problem, but not when you're drunk. He doesn't like too much that you drank more than your norm.
You will laugh a lot and make indecent jokes, and in the morning you will be ashamed of your behavior. "Did you really tell him so many vulgarities?"
"You seriously proved to me that my middle name is not Scott, but Sexy Kennedy. Leon Sexy Kennedy."
He really likes it, he wants you to talk about it more often, and not shyly look away.
You're fucked. You cover your face with your hands, begging him to forget about everything you said last night, but he doesn't want to forget about it at all. Moreover, he thinks that his shirts will look sexy as hell on you.
Leon will ask if you want to solve your "problem", or is it better for him to take you home? If you stay, he'll be glad. And yes, his shirts look great on your naked body!
He likes it when you stay with him all day or all weekend. To do this, he specifically buys you a bar of chocolate so that later he can watch you lick your fingers while watching TV
You feel uncomfortable when you notice the gaze fixed on you. Leon clearly has something obscene on his mind, you can see it by his grin. At night he will tell you what it is, or show you…
"Come on, baby, I'm not one of those college guys who, after spending the night with a girl, pretend they don't know her."
However, Leon is happy to spend more than just nights with you. It seems to me that he is quite a homely person. He doesn't mind your things in his house or the books you read while you're with him. In fact, he likes it when you read aloud to him.
He doesn't want to be an unusual "relationship experience" in your life. He's already got enough shit because of work, so he asks you to think about whether you need a relationship with him. He wants to love and be loved in return, so think about it carefully, princess.
If you agree to a relationship with him, he will be immensely happy, but he is unlikely to show it. However, taking care of you will be a priority for him now. Leon is clearly a defensive type.
You'll be his little spoon when you sleep in the same bed with him. Leon will kiss the top of your head and draw contours on your back. You instill in him a forgotten sense of calm that alcohol will never give him.
He likes the idea that he can protect at least one loved one.
So don't be scared when he wakes up at night with the desire to hug you tightly. You'll get used to it very soon, because you know that he has some kind of super-complicated job that he doesn't like to talk about.
His worst nightmare - you were killed or you got infected.
Leon definitely likes to kiss you between the shoulder blades when you're lying on your stomach.
He is so grateful to you for treating his simple wounds. It may be a bruise or a small cut, but the way you tenderly treat the wounds makes his heart flutter. Leon doesn't believe in God, but then why are you his angel?
He understands that you want to have fun with friends from time to time, but please be careful! If you have any problems or someone bothers you, then immediately inform him.
He doesn't have anything against your friends, but he's still worried about you, and he definitely doesn't like that guy…
It's not jealousy! Leon trusts you, but he's also learned to be a good judge of people, so he can't stand some of the people around you
He likes to watch movies with you when you're both wrapped in a blanket and lying on the couch. Even if it's boring, Leon likes being with you, so he's ready to watch your favorite movies/series/shows as much as he wants. But when you fall asleep yourself, he will take you to bed, or maybe he will fall asleep with you.
Maybe someday he'll marry you.
It's okay if you don't want to.
He doesn't want to rush into serious offers, but if you want to move in with him, he'll be happy.
Sometimes he will make fun of you, but more often he will call you by affectionate names. So often that you will begin to think that he has forgotten your real name. Leon will laugh at this, making it clear that he has no problems with his memory.
Leon will gradually open up to you more and more, but don't wait for everything at once. It's hard for him too, and he's not the kind of person who takes out his problems on others. He is ready and willing to take care of you, but prefers to keep to himself what is bothering him.
none of you will ever say it out loud, but Leon puts you above himself. This is a simple truth that makes no sense to discuss. Don't waste your time, because Leon won't change his mind. He loves you and will only love you more because you also love him and care about him.
And yes, he still doesn't trust your friends, although he's glad they made you sit with him that day at the bar.
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romanoffsbish · 1 year
Text
Do I Know You?
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
Request: lil anon.
Natasha loved you, that much she knew, but the closer your binding nuptials came the more she felt a need to run. So, that’s exactly what she does, but when she returns a year later nothing was the same. You were made to forget her, and in turn your once blooming love that she’s desperate to reignite.
Warnings: Alluded to Violence/Brainwashing. Heartbreak. Feigned Amnesia. (Happy Ending)
Alluded to Smut | 18+ | Minors DNI
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"Another one?" Natasha nodded with a wince, she could already feel a headache drawing on from the excess amount of liquor she's downed thus far, but she deemed it her underwhelming punishment for what she did to you today.
For breaking your heart, time and time again she chose the life of superhero over you, even when she didn't need to. It's not like you didn't understand the mission here or there, you too were an Avenger who understood that duty calls, a few missed dates caused little harm.
There's got to be a line drawn though, and you expected that she knew your wedding was one of those times, but she practically begged Fury to let her onto a mission, in front of your face like your feelings didn't matter; she refused to believe you when you said it was the last straw.
——
So, she very well placated you, lying with too much ease about turning it back down after all, and for a few short days it was back to bliss. Natasha held you so close, cherishing you because she knew she'd have to fight to get you back when she returned, but she needed time.
It all went swimmingly until you were standing alone at the altar, all your mutual friends were sat in shock at the sight of a gap where your blushing bride should've been, but wasn't. 
So now she's drowning her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey in some foreign country because she  likely ruined the one good thing she's ever had.
——
Natasha's foot tapped against the bottom of the Quinjet anxiously, it'd been a year since she left, every time she pleaded with Fury to stop extending the mission it's like he doubled it.
She had a plan: take the three months to fix herself while doing what she's best at, then come home and make it all right with you.
However plans never seem to work out in her favor, and she is drowning in self deprecating thoughts as she ponders if you've forgiven her.
Did you meet someone else? Are they taking up the right side of the bed in your shared room?
Natasha bit her lip at the painful thought.
Will she be able to undo the pain she caused? Can she convince you to forgive her just this additional time, and promise it'll be different?
She will beg down on her knees if she has to.
Will she be different? Or will she just pretend until she can't anymore, and fall back into running away whenever she began to feel like she couldn't possibly live without you.
She's never needed anyone before, it terrifies her to need you, but she can't fight it anymore.
No, that much she knew was over. Because in the year she was forced to be without you it became rather apparent that she was correct. Living without you was a miserable experience; not hearing your giggles in the middle of the night when you should both be sleeping, or to not have you tucked into her, safe and sound.
Natasha realized that everything she was running from was everything she ever wanted. Loving you wasn't a burdening thing like her past tried to convince her it was, she was not about to be tied down and have her will taken. No, she was just signing up for a life with you by her side, and she realizes now that she has to fix this because now she can't imagine her life any other way then with you as her wife.
As soon as the jet landed she was racing off to find you, and once she reached the kitchen her search was over. There you stood with a mug in hand talking to Wanda in your Stitch pajamas. Natasha moved on impulse, her body needed to feel yours, so she catapulted into you without a second thought on as to if she was allowed to.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," she sobbed into your shirt, and you froze upon feeling her tears seep through to your chest.
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Natasha froze, entire body tensing as you spoke, because the tone you used was one of innocence, and not one full of malice or contempt. You were asking her an honest question, and it terrified her.
"I'm your fiancée?"
"Were," Wanda softly corrected with a glare fixated upon the absolute mess of a woman.
"I'm so confused..." you whispered, and the woman pulled away from your hold, the one you graciously allowed her to remain in with a deep frown, and eyes glistening with tears.
"You don't remember me?" Natasha shakily asked, her arms now wrapping around her body as she took tentative steps backwards.
"I know who you are," you admitted, "Just not how you're supposed to be important to me."
Natasha nodded, then before you could break her heart any further she was taking off to her old room so that she could be sick.
"Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"I thought all your memories came back?"
"They did," you replied with a saddened smile, "But I don't know if I want to remember her."
After crying herself into a restless nap Natasha woke up with a start, hand flying out to grasp you to pull you close but she was reminded for the umpteenth time that you weren't there.
Nothing made sense before without you, but after seeing you it makes even less sense, and in order to get answers Natasha jumped up and ran to Fury for them, and as she drove closer to Shields headquarters she fears her continued mission extensions were intermixed with why.
"Agent Romanoff, welcome home," the stoic man greets without even looking up, he didn't need to with the way she slammed his door into the wall without a shred of remorse.
"What happened to Y/N?"
"And here I thought you were here with completed mission reports, and detailed ones at that since I heard you sustained an injury."
"Stop giving me the fucking run around Nick."
"You broke her heart, and that trickled into a long winded year of saving the poor girl."
"From what?"
"Hydra."
Natasha's knees gave out, causing her body to fall into the mans couch with a tightness in her chest. "Nick, what are you saying? I-I don't understand, what happened? If she was in danger why didn't anyone tell me? Is this why my fucking mission was pointlessly extended?"
"I haven't the time to offer you explanations, I'm needed elsewhere, but to make a long story short—yes, we didn't need you in the way in a fit of remorseful hysteria as we found her," the man revealed as he dropped a huge file on the table then looked her straight in the eye, "Not to mention she told everyone before she was ever taken captive that if you were to ask about her no one was ever allowed to indulge you."
Fury left as soon as the words left him, and the redhead shakily reached for the thick files. Knots formed in the pit of her stomach the more she read, the papers were thorough, not a single bit of information was spared. Starting with your failed nuptials that led to you going on the honeymoon alone and being kidnapped.
Natasha left you in a vulnerable headspace, costing you six months of your life, she basically led Hydra right to you, and she felt sick to her stomach at the notion. Love isn't mean to cause pain, and yet that's all she's done to you; therefore your lost memories of her love was her burden to carry going forward.
——
It'd been a week since Natasha had been back, nobody would even spare her a glance, so she hid out on the unused floor of the compound. Until one morning when she was informed by Friday that the team had left the compound. Something about an impromptu mission that she was to sit out of due to her recent injury.
The same injury you heard about through the grapevine, and you honestly felt responsible. Had they let her come home on time she would have avoided her last forced sparring session. Then her torn calf wouldn't be on your conscience, and you wouldn't be watching the poor woman struggle to make her sandwich.
"Need some help?"
Natasha jumped, making the pain in her leg worse as it shot through her body and sent her tumbling backwards, but fortunately you were there to catch her, "Falling for me are we?"
Mentally you slapped yourself for saying that, her lip wobbled ever so slightly, most people would've missed it, but you never could. No matter what happened, you'd always be in tune with the woman who still held your heart captive after all this time and the heartbreak.
"I'm okay, thanks though," she politely declined, then with as much strength as she could muster she stood upright again, and shifted to face the counter to hide her tears.
"Natasha, I know what happened, Wanda told me," you told a partial truth, it was the witch that restored your memories months ago, but you wouldn't be letting Natasha know yet, if you were ever going to trust her again, she needed to prove to you she was really sorry.
"Oh," she whispered, the knife clattering on the counter drowning her voice out, "I'm sorry."
The tone of her voice wasn't something you'd grown used to, even after three years together she had yet to ever be this vulnerable with you.
"Hey, it's okay Nat, I'm sure you had a reason."
Natasha stilled when your hand settled on her lower back, she didn't deserve your sympathy.
"Y/N, please, you don't have to forgive me, if it wasn't for my cowardice you wouldn't be in the mess that you're in," Natasha shakily stated, her inability to reel her emotions in truly did shock you, and it was clear to you how broken up over the entire situation she is—as she should be, but it also pains you to see how she blames herself for what happened to you, even if the team agreed, you never once blamed her.
You've had a long time to think the whole situation over, and if you could go back in time you would, in a heartbeat. You'd have slowed down, caught on to her fight or flight response slowly building up and gave her the space she needed, hell you would've even postponed the wedding if she would have only asked. It was the secrets and blatant lying that did you in.
"That's the thing Natasha, I already did," you whispered as you pulled her in for a hug, one that you craved just as much as she did, but the desperation was only visualized from her end. Natasha clung to you like you were still her lifeline, because deep down you always will be.
"I'm sorry," you spoke, and she pulled away with a deep frown full of defiance, "No, you've got nothing to apologize for Y/N, not at all!"
"It's my fault you're hurt Natasha, they told me they wouldn't let you come home," your voice wavered with a concern she didn't expect,  but nonetheless she appreciated, "and now that you're back you've being unfairly isolated."
"Hey, hey," Natasha cupped your cheeks when she saw you losing hold of your composure, an all too familiar intimacy that you leaned into within an instant, making the redheads heart flicker with a bit of hope, "They had every right to keep me away, and to keep their distance. I didn't just steal Thor's poptarts krasivaya, I broke your heart, and that's worthy of all this."
You chuckled, "Thor does love his poptarts."
"Yeah, and the team, me included, love you."
An awkward silence fell over the both of you as you remained connected in a loose embrace. Only to be broken when Natasha gazed at your lips with a hunger you recognized as futile. Though you wanted to kiss her just as bad, you couldn't let her back in just yet, so you gently let her go, and nudged her out of your way.
"Sit, I'll make you a proper lunch."
Natasha went to refute your offer, but the way you looked at her made her back down, and at the sound of her relieved sigh as she settled on the stool you smiled in triumph. Natasha never let you take care of her like this before, most of the time she'd glare at you for even insinuating she wasn't capable of doing so; she'd cook eggs on the stove while bleeding out just to prove a point. Literally, once Bruce had to stitch her up as she passive-aggressively fixed dinner.
This wasn't much, but it was a start, and you were hopeful this wasn't a temporary thing. That her injury isn't the reason she's allowing you in like this, and that it's who she became while she was away. It made you think, that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for you.
The mission the team went on ended up turning into quite the doozy. What was meant to be an overnight became a three month long undercover mission. So in that time you were left to either your solitude or Nat's company.
For the first month she herself kept a bit of distance between the two of you. After she was so close to pouncing on you in the kitchen she felt it was the best option. It wasn't fair for her to look at you like you belonged to her, when you didn't even know who she was anymore outside of the rumors, and the harsh truths.
It wasn't until you purposefully set your alarm for four in the morning so you could corner her in the kitchen that she was given no choice but to spend time with you. Neither of you said much, you gently nodded to the mugs on the counter and she graciously accepted the offer.
"Thank you," she hummed, her distinct rasp you'd grown to love in the mornings much smoother as the warm drink coated her throat.
"Don't thank me yet, you have yet to try my omelette," You watched in amusement as the redhead's eyes widened and her head instinctively shook in the negatory. "Um, I'm not hungry, but thank you, really it's kind."
You deadpanned, "Your stomach growled."
Natasha sighed in defeat, begrudgingly she accepted the extended plate, tentatively she cut off an edge, then she moaned at the flavor.
"No fucking way, Y/N, that's delicious!"
"You seem shocked," you gasped with a hand on your chest in feigned offense.
"It's just, my Y/N couldn't even crack an egg."
It's true, Natasha used to do all the cooking after she rescued you from Hydra the first time, but in her absence you had to learn.
"Well consider me the superior Y/N then."
You watched regretfully as your words struck the redhead far deeper than you'd intended.
"Natasha, I—," she cut you off with a warm, albeit hurt smile, "I'm actually in a rush, I have physical therapy today, I'll catch you later."
As the redhead ran away, again, you found your heart was aching at the distance you just reaffirmed with your careless attempt to joke. It wasn't a lie, ever since your failed attempt to wed you were forced to become a more well rounded person, but that didn't need to be a new point of guilt for the redhead to bare.
You finished off her omelette, then retreated back to your room, you'd try again tomorrow.
The following day you saw Natasha on the couch, her injured leg was on an ottoman, while the other was curled beneath her as she read a book: Girl in Pieces, it was one you got her for her birthday when she mentioned she needed more to read, it was also your not so subtle way of trying to get her to see your pain.
It warmed your heart to see her actually read it, but really what caught your eye was the hoodie she wore as she flipped the pages. The light grey that swallowed the petite woman was one of yours, it was rather new actually, and even if you were meant to be upset that she stole from a Y/N who didn't know her, you just weren't.
Knowing that on some level she still needed you kept that burning hope that never died alive. Natasha always looked beautiful wearing your clothes, whether it be your hoodie with sweats or an oversized tee paired with her lacy panties. There was nothing she couldn't pull off, but in most scenarios you did, discarding the fabrics on your bedroom floor to feel her.
It was easy to admire her really, the way the sun filled the nearly empty room and reflected off of her was nothing short of angelic. She wore a pensive expression, brows furrowed with lips pursed, and eyes focused as if the words were inspiring her to think critically.
"So, why is it you're not on the mission?"
Natasha giggled when you jumped, of course she knew you were there, she slipped her bookmark between the crisp pages, then gave all of her attention to you with a soft smile.
"Um, I am not exactly cleared to go out yet," you quietly replied as you sat on the couch across from hers, "Not since I got powers."
Natasha's face fell when your hand raised to show the materialization of blue sparks, you were never supposed to be in this situation. Natasha remembers the day she saved you from the fate you eventually still endured.
You'd been so scared when she stumbled upon you in a high tech cage with glass for walls. Hydra had only had you for a few weeks, it was enough time to start their trials, but they only succeeded in altering your physical strength. Now though, they'd given you the powers you never wanted, and now she wanted to cry.
"Oh Y/N," she couldn't bare to see you like this, knowing it was her fault only made it worse. The guilt swimming behind her eyes made you frown just the same, "It's not your fault Nat."
"It kinda is," she replies instantly, "If I wasn't a coward, had I not ran, you would've never been alone for them to take. We'd be truly happy, but more importantly you would be safe."
"Why did you?" Natasha's frown only deepened as you asked the looming question, "Why run?"
"I-It wasn't exactly a choice," she starts, her hands reflexively clenched, before she tightly clasped them together, "It was fight or flight."
The vague answer she gave honestly upset you, you know she was scared, but for her to have such a fearful biological response to you hurt.
"What did I do wrong?"
Natasha shook her head, her brimming tears falling as she did, "Nothing, you were perfect."
"I don't understand."
Natasha's knuckles cracked as she reflexively tightened her grasp, the idea of being this honest scared her, but you also deserved to know, even if you weren't truly you anymore.
"I'm not a good person Y/N," now it was your turn to clench your fists, this undeserved self loathing mantra of hers always infuriated you.
"That's simply not true Natasha, we've all made choices we weren't proud of, I know you're not a bad person, my heart knows that much."
"I broke that heart, it should despise me."
"Well it doesn't, so stop willing it to."
"Why?" her voice cracked, she looked unsure of what she was asking, but she asked anyway.
"I'm destined to love you, I don't have it in me to hate you Natasha, trust me, I already tried."
A wave of clarity washed over her, there was a storm behind her green eyes, and the way you could see her heart breaking devastated you.
"Natasha—"
"I can't believe you lied to me like this..."
Even with an injured leg she was still able to evade your grasp, and escape on the elevator.
"You left me at the altar, but I'm the bad guy?" You huffed to yourself like a petulant child, and  stormed off to your room via the many stairs.
A loud knock on your door woke you up, you groaned, all you wanted to do after earlier's fight was sleep the rest of the day away, but it appears the redhead wasn't done berating you.
With a scowl to rival her expected one you opened the door, but all you found was a box with your name on it signed from Natasha.
"I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for earlier's blow out, you've got every right not to, but I hope you do understand I felt blindsided. If you don't, I hold no grudges, and I promise I will leave the compound as soon as possible so you can be comfortable. But if you do, please meet me in the training room at 8."
With the note read you untied the ribbon, then you opened the box to find a customized suit, it was primarily black, but there were these gorgeous waves of varying shades of blue going down the sides of the breathable latex material.
A soft smile graced your face as you ran your hands over the piece, it made you feel special, but more importantly it gave you a feeling of belonging again. For months now they've been too afraid to utilize you in combat, they were worried about the unknown capabilities of course, but you also knew they just didn't want to put you in danger, but that wasn't exactly their choice to keep making. Nat understood.
After less than a minute deliberating you were slipping into the suit you know she spent the last few hours making in Tony's lab for you. Then you made your way down to the gym just in time to find her perching herself atop of a miniature board in a carnival-esque dunk tank.
"Natasha, what is all of this?"
"Well, I see that you are either hesitant to use your powers, or the team is benching you, and in either scenario I want to help you undo it."
"You're injured, are you sure this is safe?"
Natasha rolled her eyes, "Y/N, it is a tiny pool of water, what could you possibly do to me?"
"I could drown you."
"Don't threaten me with a good time," she winked and smirked at you in that dopey way that usually has you crumbling to your knees.
Now it was you rolling your eyes, "Romanoff, what am I even expected to do with this?"
"Whatever your heart desires Y/N: use the water beneath me to pull me in, freeze the water as it exits your hands and throw the ice blocks at the target, or use a water stream."
All was going well, before you began to dunk Natasha in the tank you focused more on your breathing, and the overall serenity one needs to feel to remain under control. Once you felt at peace, something you knew deep down came when Natasha smiled at you, and encouraged you with praises, you began to formulate tiny balls of water, then you upped the ante and focused on chilling them until you had ice.
However, after you dunked her for the tenth time you could see something was wrong, she stayed under the water longer than normal, and judging by the influx of bubbles you knew she was screaming in pain. Something she felt she needed to keep from you as she rose out of the water with a tight lipped smile as she reset the seat and clambered back on with a struggle.
“Timeout,” you shouted while running over to the redhead who was failing to hide her pain, which meant it was likely a drastic feeling.
"Oh come on Y/N, we were just getting warmed up," the redhead frowned, "Or cooled down?"
“Nat, I saw you screaming in pain,” you admit, but she shrugged, “What is life if not painful?”
“I’m fine,” she tried again, but the truth was she was the furthest thing from it, but she didn’t want to present as incapable, or or weak, and she just didn’t want to let you down again.
"Natasha, please just be honest with me," you sighed, hand falling over hers as it sits over her calf, "If we're going to fix us, you have to be."
Natasha met your worried gaze with a tearful one of her very own, "W-we can fix this?"
It shocked you to see her so unsure, telling you that she was helping you without expectations. Letting you train with her because she knew you better than anyone else, and she knew you were scared of what you have become. It was endearing, and reminded you of the Natasha that you fell in love with all those years ago.
"It won't be the way it was overnight Natasha, but if you're here, as in no more running when scared, and you're honest, we can get us back."
"Okay," she timidly whispered with a nod, followed up by a shaky exhale, "The therapist said I need surgery, but I'm terrified Y/N/N."
"Oh love," you lifted her hand up to your lips to deposit a gentle kiss, "I am so sorry it's not getting better on its own, I know you hate the hospital, and being put under even more so."
"I can't do it, I don't want to—I won't."
You gently lifted her off the platform of the dunk tank so you could hold her in your arms, "Yes you will baby, because you are one of the strongest people I've ever known, and if it'll help you, I'll be right there the whole time."
"Really?" her hands gripped you over the suit in an attempt to garner a semblance of reason, and you smiled at the way she used you to ground herself like this, "Of course, you're not ever going to be alone if you don't want to be."
"Never again," she whispered the promise, "This is where I want to be for the rest of time."
"Funny," you smirked down at her, your right hand cupped her cheek, "I was thinking the same thing," you pulled her in for a kiss, her parted lips swallowed your sudden giggle as she eagerly moved to deepen the reunion kiss.
"However, the bed might be more comfortable, what do you think?" Natasha whimpered hotly as you bit into her lower lip, "Please detka..."
“I told you it’d work,” Tony boasts, and the little witch rolls her eyes while filling her duffle bag up with a discernible quickness, “No, you said ‘why does it matter’ and ‘this isn’t my problem’ when Clint and I suggested this.”
“Well, initially, yeah, but I changed my tune.”
“Yeah, like five minutes ago when Natasha fell into the water with a cry and Y/N ran to her,” Steve bemoaned while starting up the jet so they could ‘return a month and a half early because they were just so incredibly efficient.’
———
4,572 Words
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vivicanyounot · 8 months
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"I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else! ^-^;" "..."
Amy Rose just did the biggest mistake of her life. She ran and hugged some other hedgehog AGAIN! And this one was not what she was expecting.
The last time was a white hedgehog minding their business drinking apple juice at some park and now THIS? This is just utterly embarrassing!
Here she was, gone and hugged a hedgehog drinking coffee quietly on a corner and she didn't expect them to be so into their writing-- She done bumped on his work with ink spilling everywhere. Before realizing her mistake, she noticed how soft this one's fur is.
"This one's really soft!---------------I, wait a minute..."
'Sonic's more of a fluffy kind rather than a soft one.' she thought.
She let go of this hedgehog and adjusted her eyesight to the bright light cascading on the window. This one's fur is BLACK, not blue at all! How could she have missed this?! She really needs to get her eyes checked.
This figure turned their head behind revealing ruby-colored eyes.
"I-I didn't know you were writing! I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else!" Amy worriedly joked hoping that this hedgehog would sympathize at her. She couldn't help but feel like this hedgehog was someone familiar to her.
"..." Eyes continued to stare. Then to his book. Then back to her again. There was a pause and an incalculable look bared on his face before proceeding to glare this time.
"Now what are you going to do with all of this mess?" he croaks slowly, careful with his words. He points to his book utterly disappointed.
"I-I didn't mean to bump on what you were writing. I hope to make it up to you." Amy said begrudgingly at the last part. She doesn't want to waste time today since she needs to find Sonic as soon as possible. HE has an upcoming tournament and he's seen nowhere at all from the venue! Where could he possible be?---
"Make it up to me, you say?" the stranger asks. He puts his pen down and taps his fingers on the table. Amy gulped, nervously sweating from this hedgehog's threatening aura. Yet still, she wouldn't feel much harm from him at all. She just knows that he wouldn't hurt her weirdly enough.
"It'd be nice if I had a ghost writer. *I* dictate about the contents." He flips his book, almost covered with so much ink stains.
"YOU write on it." He points to Amy then to his book. She has no idea on how to write.
'How on earth am I going to write. Much less have the time to be working with you?!' she thought. She had her hands ravaging her hair. And suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blue figure from the window. And they're ordering from a hotdog stand. Could it be?
"You're probably thinking how this is going to be arranged? Don't worry I've got you covered." He whips out his used napkin on the table and hands Amy his pen. Amy holds his fountain pen but she was distracted. She got other things to worry about like that blue hedgehog from afar already eating his 10 chilidogs. She is determined.
"Just write your number here." He taps on the napkin. Amy didn't think twice about anything she just wanted to get out and give that blue hedgehog an earful of her nagging. She wrote on his napkin quick and easy.
"Yeah yeah, we'll talk about this later. Bye!" She turned around ready to leave until her arm got caught by the stranger. Her emerald-colored eyes focused solely on him. His eyes staring back with a level focus.
"Expect a call from me, Rose." He hoarsed then removes his hand from her arm. Amy saw the blue figure blur past their cafe. She holds her wrist hurt from his handling then consequently left with an irritated look. She still feel his eyes boring into her back.
"What a weirdo." She whispered running out of the cafe.
'And h-he knew my name! Did he also ASK for my number just now?'
How is the world coming into for Amy Rose?
a/n: i just made this story now to support the drawing. should i do a comic of it now too? let me know!!! and maybe you guys wanna continue this story...?
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homeofatlas · 3 months
Text
You Called
Authors note: I was truly inspired and had to write this. Also all the physical touch in my fics can you tell what my primary love language is? Also if i wasn't writing fanfic for a female athlete you'd be able to tell i'm gay from all the "I like you" "like platonically?" in all my fics. Anyways enjoy and have a good week!
Word Count: 1.2k
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It’s 10:30 pm when Elisa texts you. You’re used to receiving messages that say “this reminded me of you” or the occasional meme but this was out of the ordinary. You’d been close friends for a year and while you knew how close you two were, you honestly thought she would have gone to someone else if she needed them. When you needed someone to calm you down she was the person who stayed with you but that was because she was the one who brought you the most comfort. Typically when Elisa got riled up the team was always there to help her. So when you got a text late at night from her asking if you could come over, you were worried. 
You swear you’d never gotten ready so fast in your life. Throwing on the closest pair of acceptable but comfortable pants you found and a sweater you walk so fast to the car you’re basically sprinting. Through this process she texts you asking when you’ll get there, as soon as humanly possible if you can do anything about it. If you could go any faster without breaking laws you would, you’re debating even breaking those laws. She needs you right now and there’s nothing that will keep you from her. Pulling up in front of her apartment you park and get out of the car. Texting her that you’re there the closer you walk to the door way you can see she’s already in the lobby waiting for you. Head hung low and hands stuffed deep in pockets. It's so far from her usual demeanour, you know something is very wrong. 
Walking up to the door as you begin to pull she’s pushing it open and helping you in from the cold. The first look into her eyes tells you how bad it is. She greets you with a hey but it’s different from her usual ones and you can see how stressed out she is. Before you can say anything you hug her and pull her into you. Sometimes there aren’t any words that are more comforting than being held. As you pull away she begins to speak. 
“Sorry I called so late I needed someone and I got into a fight and I should have left it alone but I didn’t and I need a distraction-”
“Elisa, even if you just wanted to hang out I would have come. I’m here when you need it. That’s what friends are for.” It breaks your heart a little to say those words but it’s true. Even if your feelings aren’t purely platonic it is what good friends do for each other.
Her shoulders sag with relief as you two wait for the elevator. She asks you how your day was despite having been together only 5 hours ago. You link your arm through hers to continue offering her comfort while you chatter away so she has something else to focus on. Coming into the apartment you take off your coat and sit on the couch ready to talk with her about what happened or happy to speak about anything else. She joins you on the other side of the couch. 
“Why don’t we put on a movie? That’s always a good distraction.” You say. 
She nods silently. You pick one of your favourite comfort movies and beckon her to come closer to you. She lays her head down on your shoulder and you wrap an arm around her so you can draw soothing shapes on her shoulder. You know she’ll want to talk about it and right now you can’t push her. The best thing to do right now is be there for her and let her know she has someone. 
You feel her intake of breath to speak before you hear her. 
“I can’t believe you actually came.” She says sitting up and looking at you. 
You shrug and struggle to keep looking at her, if you don’t get a grip she’ll know you love her. 
“You called.” 
She continues to look at you with an unreadable expression. Sometimes you feel like you know her better than yourself and other times you feel like you don’t understand her at all. 
“Sometimes,” She starts and licks her lips as if trying to convince herself to say what’s coming next. “I wish I had a coping mechanism I knew would soothe me like drugs or a cigarette. But sitting here talking to you I realized I do have a coping mechanism to soothe me when I'm distressed. It’s talking to you, it’s looking into your understanding eyes, it’s the way you know without me saying anything,” She pauses, hanging on the last word. “It’s you. I need you.”
She’s looking at you with the most vulnerable expression you’ve ever seen on her.  Elisas energy often feels raw and powerful, like she’s made of passion, the storm clouds, and metal. You can feel the truth spilling out of her. She’s so good in her soul, she’s the realest person you’ve ever met. 
Her hand reaches out to grasp yours on the couch and swipes her thumb back and forth on it. Her other hand hooks around the bend of your knee dragging you closer to her until your legs are practically across her lap. She bumps her forehead into yours gently, nuzzling the side of your head. Coming back to your face she nudges your noses together so the bridges slide across each other. A shiver goes down your spine. You can feel the burning heat of her palm on your thigh. Damn her, she knows how you love it’s one of your favourite things about her but right now it’s really biting you in the ass. You can’t do this if she doesn’t like you too. You can’t know what this feels like if you can’t have her, it’ll ruin you. It’ll make you sick to know what you might’ve had. You put your hand on her chest keeping her where she is. 
“Don’t kiss me if it’s because of the heat of the vulnerable moment Elisa because I won't come back from this. I’ll fall in love with you.” Oh it’s all falling out now. “If I know what you feel like- what you taste like i’ll dream of you. No worse I’ll think of you. I’ll never escape you so please don’t if you don’t mean it like I do.” You finish pleading. You never thought you'd be begging her not to kiss you. But everything you’ve said is true. Except you’re already in love with her. You’d do anything for her. Your breath has stalled in your lungs. Breathing feels like your lungs are coated in molasses. It’s so much work to get your chest to breathe up and down. 
Elisas paused. Oh god oh no, you’ve gone and ruined everything all of it you shouldn’t have said anything-
“What part of I need you didn’t you get?” she murmurs, lips ghosting above your own. 
“Oh.” Your breath punches out of you. You hadn’t realized that was Elisas idea of a confession. You’d think back on it but you’ve got the rest of your life to do that and right now there is a hot french football player who wants to kiss you so it’ll have to wait.  You push your lips together and it’s better than anything you imagined. Because she’s actually here warm and solid beside you, hands coming up to your waist. Your hands on her neck bringing her closer to you. Everything falls out of your head except one thought, I love you.
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imajinxnation · 7 months
Text
That's Bull
Constantine (2005) x Reader
SUMMARY // Reader gets kidnapped by a demon and Constantine comes to save her. Reader can't help but mock the demon's stupidity and waits for her boyfriend to come get her.
Thought of this while I was at work!
Hope this is at least decent, cause it's been awhile lmao
GIF FOUND ON PINTEREST
TW // Kidnapping, Humor, Sarcasm, Insinuated Sexy Times, Cussing, FEMALE READER..
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I groan as I wake, a harsh pounding in my head, as if someone was repeatedly taking the back of my head and smashing it against a metal wall. I slowly open my eyes, wincing, but see nothing except black, my breathing feeling a little restricted and stuffy. I feel the bag over my head against my face and begin to put together the pieces of what had happened. I sigh and shake my head, not even surprised.
I hear heavy footsteps echoing closer, a metal door opens and, soon enough, the footsteps are stopped right in front of me and the bag over my head is ripped off. I glare at my kidnapper; a heavyset woman with blue dyed hair, an obvious red tint in her pupils, telling everyone that she is a demon.
"You should lighten your footsteps, girl, I could hear them from a mile away," I scoff at her.
The demon looks at me, not showing too much emotion, but I could tell my words were already getting to her. Her jaw clenched and an offended look came and went in her eyes. I smirk a little; this demon will be easy to get through.
The demon takes a deep breath to calm herself before speaking, "I need information, on your little boyfriend, Constantine," she spat out his name like poison in her mouth.
I throw my head back and laugh.
"Honey, you realise that he gives out information pretty freely, right? He couldn't give two fucks about who knows what about him! I mean.. what do you even want to know anyways?"
The demon snarls at my nonchalant nature and speaks up again, angrier this time.
"Where does he keep the dagger of destiny? I know he fucking kept it!"
I snort, "No he didn't, you dumbass! Who the fuck told you that bullshit lie? No, wait, let me guess! Gabriel?"
The demon gives an awkward, frustrated look, "No.." She says, unconvincingly.
There was silence for a few moments before I broke out into laughter, finding the whole situation hilarious.
"You- you mean to tell me," I say between giggles, "that Gabriel told you personally that Constantine has the dagger of destiny, and then told you to kidnap me to tell you where he hides it? You are one gullible demon!"
"Watch it, you pathetic worm," the demon stomps like a child getting sent to the corner.
"Okay, alright. Come closer and I'll whisper it to you, I promise!" I give my best innocent face and silently beckon the demon to lean closer.
She does, easy to fool.
"You're going to be back in hell in a minute.." I whisper, the demon leans her head back from me, looking me in the eyes as I smirk.
She let's out a frustrated yell and walks past me, presumably to grab a weapon to torture me with. I see a shadow at the foot of the door in front of me before trying to see what the demon was doing behind me, catching a glimpse of her back. My head snaps back towards the door when I see a little bit of light enter the room. I see my boyfriend's head poke through before slipping his whole body in the room, making as little noise as possible as to not draw attention.
"You alright?" He mouths to me.
I nod and tilt my head towards the demon behind me, back still turned, muttering to herself about which tool she should use to torture me with.
"Give her hell.." I mouth with a smirk and a wink.
John smirks back and raises his demon gun, "Hey ugly!"
The demon swings around at the voice and goes to attack, but John shoots before she could move, and with one shot of that demon gun, she turns to dust.
"Thank you, Baby, you wanna untie me now?" I ask.
Constantine laughs and shakes his head in disbelief before setting the gun down to untie my body from the chair.
"When will these demon fucks learn not to mess with you?" He growls in my ear, untying my wrists from behind my back.
"You know demons, Babe, they may be evil little shits.. but they have a brain the size of a peanut," I laugh and rub my wrists from the rope burn.
I hop up from the uncomfortable metal chair and stretch, my shirt riding up a bit, showing a sliver of my stomach.
"What did they want this time anyways?" Constantine rolled his eyes and lit a cig.
"Gabriel told it some bull about you keeping the dagger of destiny," I scoffed at the mention of Gabriel.
"That bitch.. When will she stop trying to get revenge on me, it's not my fault God hates her now!" He let out an exasterbated sigh and takes a puff of his cig.
"Well.. I'm not saying I like getting kidnapped all the time.. But I always like what happens after you find me," I say suggestively.
Constantine stares at me for a second before giving a look of disbelief and then a smirk. He takes one last puff of his cig and then stomps it out on the concrete ground of the underground base I was kept in. He moves in closer to me, wrapping his arm around my middle and pulling me into his body roughly, face extremely close to mine.
"And this time will be no different," he smashes his lips to mine, desperately.
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eldritch-nightmare · 7 months
Note
howdy!! hope you're having a lovely day! may i request ticci toby and any other creeps of your choosing reacting to someone harming their s/o? thank you in advance!
a/n: hi!! thanks for sending the request!! hope you enjoy <3
reacting to someone hurting their gn!s/o.
includes: toby, nurse ann, homicidal liu + sully [separate], the bloody painter, and laughing jill.
warnings: reader gets injured, murder, blood, the murder isn't detailed but some of them may be a little graphic maybe, near-death experiences, it's implied that the reader doesn't know helen kills people.
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TICCI TOBY.
He would not be a happy camper, that's for sure.
Toby has already had so much taken away from him, so if someone were to try and take away the one person he allowed himself to love? Yeah, no, not happening.
Toby has taken so many lives he doesn't even know the exact number, and he doesn't normally draw out their death unless it's something Slender wants him to do.
But seeing you passed out on the ground because some sick fuck decided to take their anger out on you... it brought Toby back to darker days, and all he could think about was eliminating the danger to keep you safe.
And let me tell you, Toby draws out your attacker's death. They hurt you, so therefore they deserve every ounce of pain he gives them.
Honestly, if he could, he'd probably keep the person alive over the course of weeks just to get it through their head just how badly they fucked up deciding to hurt you, but he needed to get you help as soon as possible so he leaves your attacker to bleed out.
Once the anger he feels subsides, it'll be replaced by panic and guilt as he rushes you to the nearest place you can receive medical attention, be it the mansion or the hospital.
He won't feel better until you wake up, and even after, this situation will definitely cause him to become a bit paranoid over your safety. He really can't lose you. That's not a pain he can go through again.
It'll probably take you weeks, maybe even months, to reassure Toby that you were okay.
This situation will definitely make him more aware of your safety. If he's not off completing tasks for Slender, he's keeping an eye on you. He's not trying to be clingy or overbearing, he just doesn't want to see you covered in your own blood ever again.
NURSE ANN.
Ann can't remember anything that happened before her death and... proxification, but she does know that you've been by her side through the entire process. You're one of the very small handful of people she trusts and likes, so there was no way she'd let anyone take you away from her.
So when she sees you on the ground, bloodied and bruised because some dumb group of wanna-be urban explorers she was hunting down freaked out thinking you were her? Well, let's just say there's nothing that can calm Ann's burning rage at that moment.
Not only have these people trespassed into her hospital, but they also dare to hurt the love of her life as well? There's no fucking way she'll show them mercy now.
You're barely clinging onto consciousness as you watch your girlfriend mercilessly slaughter the people who dared to even put you in such a state. It's not because you wanted to watch, you were just too exhausted and in far too much pain to look away.
The amount of blood alone was nauseating, and at some point, you couldn't even tell what color the floor was anymore.
But once Ann has dealt with the intruders, she'll oh so gently pick you up from the ground and carry you to the nearest (and cleanest) hospital room so she can treat your wounds.
Ann doesn't speak much, but you can hear her softly apologizing to you as she takes care of you. She tries her best to be careful, not wanting to make the pain worse than it already is. She doesn't feel as if this is her fault, she knows it isn't, but she still can't help but feel bad.
This experience will definitely make her realize just how much she cares for you. It's a little scary, to be quite honest with you. It's weird being attached to someone.
She isn't going to become overbearing when it comes to your safety, but she'll definitely be more careful about hunting down trespassers if she knows you're in the area.
Don't worry, a situation like this will never happen again.
HOMICIDAL LIU.
Oh. Oh boy, what have you done?
Liu is, as we all know, not the type of person to take another's life in cold blood. He only hurts others when it is self-defense because he doesn't want to be anything like his brother.
But keep in mind that Liu is also very protective and he has a lot of pent-up anger (among a variety of other emotions) that he keeps under tight wraps. So, believe me when I tell you that you really do not want to be on the receiving end of that anger.
Unfortunately, some sad soul was completely unaware of this and decided to hurt you.
Now, for Liu, he honestly blacked out the moment he saw you bleeding out on the ground. You, however, witnessed the carnage that was about to take place. Honestly, for a moment, you thought that Sully had taken over because of how violent it got. But no, it was all Liu.
Liu doesn't make quick work of this. No, by the time he came out of whatever stupor of anger he got put in, he was drenched in blood, and the person he killed didn't even look like a person anymore.
He didn't use his gun. He used Sully's knife. You've never seen him use a knife before. He always avoided them, he only ever used guns. But he used a knife. He broke the fucking knife.
Right. Well. You'll just have to sit him down and discuss what transpired later. Preferably when you aren't bleeding out. Luckily for you, Liu has taught himself medical care. He's pretty damn good at treating wounds like this as well, so you're in really good hands.
Just... keep pressure on the wound for a moment while he quickly washes off all the blood on his hands.
You'll be okay. He'll make sure of it. He won't lose you.
SULLY.
Now, I bet you're expecting me to tell you that Sully would also go absolutely ham on the person who hurts you. No. He doesn't. Unlike Liu, he doesn't become overcome with pent-up rage.
He does get angry, don't get me wrong, but that anger isn't important. You're hurt, and you need immediate assistance, so Sully doesn't even spare the person a glance as he pulls out Liu's gun and shoots them in the head.
Sully is... less good at treating wounds. He tries his best whenever he sustains an injury, but Liu is always the one who has to take care of it.
But he does know where a certain eyeless man tends to lurk around, so he won't waste any time taking you to get treatment from him.
He'll keep the conversation topic light as you get treated, joking around with you and talking about anything and nothing at the same time. It keeps a smile on your face, and it keeps you distracted from the pain you're in.
It also keeps Sully distracted from the fact that his hands are shaking.
For a moment, he's not really sure why he's shaking so much. You're safe, and you're getting treated. It's only when you knock out after taking some pain meds that Sully finally realizes that he was scared.
You could've died, realistically. You probably would've if he hadn't been there.
He's never been so close to losing someone before. The thought alone was making his stomach churn. He's... he's never felt scared like this before.
This is probably when he realizes that he loves you.
THE BLOODY PAINTER.
Now, Helen isn't the most emotionally expressive person out there. Just one quick glance at his default expression and you'll come to the conclusion that he's a pretty apathetic person.
But you know him. You've learned how to identify his microexpressions. He had dropped by your place and walked in to see you treating a pretty bad cut on your arm. It was just a very slight shift in his expression, one that only lasted for a fraction of a second, but you could see the worry and the underlying anger.
It's actually pretty awkward as you explain to him what happened, going into detail about how some guy had just randomly decided to attack you when you were in town today.
Helen seemed to be taking in every detail you provided, and when he finally spoke up, it was to ask if you could describe the guy for him.
You had just assumed he was going to sketch the guy's face to give it to the police or something, so you didn't see any real issue with telling Helen, doing your best to describe what the guy looked like. You were honestly over the entire situation. The cut on your arm was bandaged and it didn't hurt much anymore.
The situation ended there for you. It was never brought up again, and Helen stayed the night to help you with anything that may be an inconvenience to do with an injured arm. It was sweet seeing him worried for you, if you're being honest.
It may take a few days, but Helen eventually did track down the person who had hurt you.
He treats them like any other victim, though it's obvious to authorities that this person had a particularly cruel death.
There is nothing tragically beautiful about this person's death. It is not a piece of art like all the other deaths were made out to be. This one still had their blood.
Honestly, their death feels so out of place for the case of the Bloody Painter that authorities are hesitant to consider this another one of his victims. It could be a dispute that led to murder, and in a panic was staged to make it look like a serial killer did it.
And you stay oblivious to this, none the wiser.
LAUGHING JILL.
Look, Jill truly felt as if she would never experience happiness ever again until you came into her life and made her realize that she can still feel such a thing.
You've basically become a source of joy for her, so there was no way in hell she'd ever let that go.
And when someone hurts you? When someone makes your face screw up in pain? It's an image that Jill never wanted to see. She's already lost someone close to her, stolen away from her by a monster. She can't lose you too. She just can't.
She also makes quick work of whoever hurt you, slicing them with her chainsaw once or twice before tossing it to the side and hurrying over to you.
You'll have to reassure her that you're okay as she lets you use her as a pillar of support. Even if you aren't okay, you need to reassure her that you are.
Jill doesn't know how to treat your wounds, something that will definitely change in the future once you're able to get actual treatment.
Honestly, she'll probably burst into tears and apologize profusely even though you getting hurt wasn't her fault. She still should've been there by your side. If she had been, you wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place.
She'll definitely be hyperaware of anyone who comes near you now. It doesn't matter if it's someone you're close to or if it's a complete and total stranger.
She'll immediately tense up and view them as a threat, sticking close to you just in case something happens.
It'll take months, maybe even years for her to move past this.
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Text
Fangs and Fractured Hearts
Chapter 9: Beneath the Veil
Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.
Word Count: 6.5k
Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn
Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]
Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.
If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know
Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}
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He soars above the roofs, moving swiftly with every forceful downbeat of his veiny, membranous wings. The moon shines bright and full tonight, the sky encrusted with stars glinting like polished gems against the pitch black.
Elowyn and the revolting Drow kept him far too late tonight, requesting additional samples of his blood, trying to justify their incompetent failures. If those two whelps make him miss his chance at seeing her tonight, he will punish them. Severely. The thought fills him with sadistic glee, and the lips of his snout pull back to reveal rows of sharp, needle-pointed teeth, as close as a smile as he can manage in this form.
A hoarse voice pierces through his morbid contemplation like hot steel, “Where is he, spawn?”
For a fleeting moment, he looks around, thinking someone is talking to him. He will torture whoever dares call him a spawn. He will make their death drag on for days, weeks, months, perhaps. He is a pathetic spawn no longer. He is the Vampire Ascendent, and he will not be belittled.
“Did I stutter? I said I don’t fucking know!” Her voice, usually sweet like wind-chimes in a gentle summer breeze, is bristling and teeming with bitterness that nips his ears.
He angles his wings, drawing them close to his body and dives, rapid and sure. He swerves between obstacles, beady black eyes darting around. That overly sweet scent of powdered iron vine stirs unwelcome memories as it hits his nostrils and makes his eyes water.
Shit.
He pumps his wings hard, heading straight toward that sickly sweet scent. He can feel himself start sinking into the mire that has muddled his mind and held him hostage, but he cannot allow it to swallow him in its gaping maw this night. She needs him.
Astarion, he must remind himself of his name. He is not just the Vampire Ascendent; he is Astarion.
“Kill her. She either can’t or won’t give him up. She’s useless to us.”
No. No. No.
His newly beating heart arrests in his chest, immobilized all over again, as he sees the hunter and watches them draw the stake from their hip. She... Gods, she doesn’t do anything. She closes her beautiful eyes and accepts her fate without a fight.
What in the bloody Hells is she thinking?
Fight! He wants to scream but cannot as he shifts forms in a fraction of a second, hauling one of the Gur holding her steadfast into the treeline while drawing his dagger, twirling it into his grip with a flick of his wrist and plunging it into their chest. Pivoting with bared teeth, he does not even bother waiting to revel in their dying shudder.
He is liquid lightning made flesh, and he takes the next hunter in a flash, slashing his dagger across their jugular with a satisfying spray of blood that splashes against his ivory skin and glazes his silver hair with a rust-coloured tint. He discards them just as quickly.
He does not waste a second and spins on his heel, lunging forward, every muscle and tendon in his body buzzing with the energy of 7000 souls. He rips the last Gur away from her, slinging them into the air with no more effort than it would take him to lift a speck of dust.
He regards the flailing human through narrow eyes with brows pulled down in a scowl that darkens his face. He’s going to snap their neck like a matchstick for thinking they can kill his beloved dark consort.
No, he corrects himself - his spawn, his toy, his possession.
“Please, don’t,” she pleads.
Her voice snaps him out of his grisly ruminations, and his eyes meet hers. Those round moon eyes that used to burn vividly with the glow of her blazing spirit now appear almost matte, and his heart clinches in his chest. Where is the fire he’s used to seeing in those eyes?
The scent of blood lingers heavily in the air, his heart pounds with the exhilaration of battle, and the gurgling sputters of approaching death stroke his ears, enchanting him.
Does she truly expect him to spare this feeble sack of shit? He does not spare lives simply because she requests it.
Yet, he is considering it. Why?
He cocks his head, straining against the insurgence of the other presence that threatens to gain control of his body. Ripping himself from the savage chomping jaws of this monster within is painful.
Agony, worse than any torture Cazador ever inflicted upon him, flares through every sinew of his body as he thrusts the hunter against the wall.
His breaths come in ragged, quick succession, but he is back, he is present, he is Astarion.
She stares at him with shock and winces. Her brows furrow with confusion as her eyes cast down and his follow their path.
He had not been fast enough.
Her body trembles as panic channels through her. She grips the stake and rips it out. The sound makes him nauseous and sends bile rising into his throat.
“... Astarion?”
His ears twitch at his name. Her eyes flutter closed as her consciousness begins to slip. Reflexively, he dives forward, arms outstretched, and for the first time in what feels like lifetimes, her name tastes like honey on his tongue as he cries it.
He catches her before her limp body can hit the ground. Gods, she’s far too light and bony with gaunt, hollow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes. His mouth drops open, horrified. Squeezing his eyes closed, he grimaces and shakes his head slightly. He does not have time to dwell on this right now. He must get her help.
The Cleric.
He does not want to, but he can do nothing for her. He moves quickly toward that little house he has watched her return to time and time again.
He considers breaking the door down, but if he does that, the Cleric is likely to attack first and ask questions later. He slams the heel of his boot on the door with a loud thud.
“Astarion?” Shadowheart blinks the sleep from her eyes rapidly, bristles and lunges for her mace, “You should not have-”
“Shut up,” he spits harshly, pushing past her, “Put your distaste for me aside. She needs your help. If you wish to try and kill me after, I will gladly do away with you.”
The golden glow of Shadowheart’s magic recedes from her fingertips as she looks at her in his arms, mouth agape. Her eyes harden as they meet his, “Did you do this!?”
“Me?” He’s astonished at the accusation. Why would he do this? He would never, nay could never. How dare she accuse him of such barbarity!
“Yes, darling,” he drawls sarcastically through clenched teeth, “I thought it was a lovely little icebreaker. I stake my dearest spawn and then show up on your doorstep requesting your help.” He scoffs indignantly, clicking his tongue at her, “Do not be so stupid. I care not what you think of me, but this is not my doing. If I had wanted her dead, she would be dead, and I would not be here.”
“She is dead,” Shadowheart snarls, gripping the hilt of her mace so hard her knuckles strain white, “You already fucking killed her.”
“I-” He did, didn’t he? She is dead, and it was him that drained her of life. No. He pushes the thought away. He had given her the choice. She chose this, and he could not be blamed for her choices.
“Semantics,” he recovers quickly with a shrug, “I could argue them with you all bloody night. Will you assist, or would you prefer to continue glaring at me? I do love the attention, after all.”
Shadowheart scoffs, nose rising with a grimace, “Put her down and step away from her.”
“Absolutely not,” he snaps. He will not lose her again. He cannot. “You have a choice, my dear. Help her as she is, in my arms, or do not. Stop wasting my fucking time.”
“Gods, you’re still as insufferable as you ever were!” Shadowheart stomps her foot, balling her fist up at her sides and levelling the mace at him before discarding it.
“Thank you,” he grins victoriously.
Magic encompasses Shadowheart’s hand. She steps close but warily as if he might pounce on her, and he rolls his eyes with a dramatic huff. Shadowheart recites an incantation, lays a splayed hand on her, and the spell flows over her body. The bleeding slows but does not stop. Shadowheart tries again, stronger this time, the magic suffusing the dim living area with a light blue luminescence.
“Take her to her room and show yourself out, Astarion,” Shadowheart instructs and points toward a darkened staircase, “It’s at the top of the stairs, second door in the hall.”
He chuckles at the silly notion he would leave her in this condition. He’s finally got his hands on her again, and there is no way he is letting her go, “No. She’s coming to the palace with me tonight.”
Shadowheart shakes, trembling with rage, “No. I will not allow you to take her.”
“Try and stop me,” he sneers, his brows knitting together, “She needs more healing, of course. You are most welcome to join us at the Crimson Palace if you wish.”
She will heal, although he’s not sure how fast in the emaciated state she is in. He will take her home where he can watch over her.  He will take her back where she belongs, with him, forever.
He shoves Shadowheart with his shoulder and heads for the door. He hears the crackle of her magic as it leaves her fingers and braces himself to absorb the attack. It hits his back, warming and prickling his skin.
He feels it again, the tug in his mind, demons creeping closer, trying to pull him into oblivion. He takes a deep breath, and his hands squeeze her more firmly, grounding himself.
Turning, he chuckles at Shadowheart as she stares at him, eyes wide in confusion but keen with determination, “That tickled, darling.” He taunts, “I will overlook this little altercation. After all, what’s a little quarrel between old friends? Now, I really must be getting home. You know where to find us should you come to your senses."
He wonders if Shadowheart will try again. She was a determined little spitfire, after all. He quickly slips out the door into the night and laughs when he hears Shadowheart’s livid scream.
“Fuck!”
It’s not long before Shadowheart jogs to his side, “What the Hells happened, Astarion?”
He’s surprised she did not come fully clad in her armour with every weapon she has. Surprised and rather disappointed. He thought she was more intelligent than to walk into the devil’s den defenceless.
“I’m so glad you decided to join us,” he says mirthlessly and shrugs, “She was attacked.”
“Yes, Astarion, I can see that.” Shadowheart scoffs at him, frowning and crossing her arms with a snort, but her expression softens when she looks at her, “Can she die from this? For good, I mean.”
He shakes his head, clenching his jaw, “I will not allow it.”
He walks quickly with long, ground-devouring strides. Shadowheart has to trot alongside him to keep pace.
She stirs in his arms now and then, trembles rippling through her muscles, fingers twitching, and he pulls her into him as close as he can get her. He wants to tell her it’s okay, to whisper that he’s got her and she is safe, but he bites his tongue.
The walk to the Crimson Palace is silent from there on out, and he’s thankful for it.
He lays her down on his bed as Shadowheart yanks scrolls and potions from her bag. He runs his fingers over her cheek when Shadowheart isn’t looking to let her know she’s not alone. He’s here. It’s been so long since he felt her skin. His heart feels like it palpates, skipping beats and is uncomfortably heavy in his chest. He cannot remember feeling anything similar in all his 200 years.
Shadowheart expends every scroll and every ounce of energy she has. Sweat rolls down her temples, and her magic dims and fizzles out on her fingers.
She pants, bracing herself against his bed, “I can do no more until I rest.” Shadowheart nudges him with an elbow to the ribs, “Get out. I need to clean and wrap her wounds.”
He narrows his eyes and quickly snatches the roll of bandages from Shadowheart’s hands, “Allow me.”
Shadowheart stares at him, teeming with hatred, “You will not. I need to undress her. Get out.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he snickers, “Many times, might I add.”
Shadowheart snarls and digs her finger rigidly into his chest, “You would violate her like that for your sick pleasure?”
Violate her? He would never do such a thing. How sick does Shadowheart think he is?
“Pleasure? There is absolutely nothing pleasurable about this!” He howls, affronted at the accusation that he would somehow get satisfaction from such an act. He runs his fingers through his blood-stained hair, “If she wakes while you are at it, she will drain you dry. She will have no control and will not be able to stop herself.”
Truth but not the reason he is being so insistent. He could not care less if she drained the Cleric drier than the desert at noon. He would watch it happen with glee. The truth he is reluctant to admit even to himself is that he wants to be close to her.
Shadowheart’s eyes narrow at him, and she crosses her arms with a huff, “Fine, but I am not leaving you alone with her.”
“Fine by me,” he smiles amicably, with a shallow bow, “May I?”
Shadowheart watches him with the same intensity and mistrust she used to watch the Gith with, and he rolls his eyes at her.
His fingers nimbly undo the clasps and laces that hold her robe closed and peels it from her body, sticky with drying blood. He’s careful, keeping his movements slow and measured.
Good Gods, there is so much blood. It coats his hands, up his forearms, muddying his skin and getting under his fingernails.
“Fetch that, will you?” he points to the glass basin filled with clean water, “Cloths are below. Bring them all."
Shadowheart grumbles under her breath but obediently does as he asks. He cleans her with gentle strokes, discarding the rags as they become blood-soaked and spoiled.
Hells, she is thin beyond his wildest imagination. Her collar bones, hip bones, and ribs jut out from her sunken stomach. He could count every vertebra in her spine. She looks frail and sickly. It takes considerable effort for him to keep his facial expression impassive as if he doesn’t care, but her condition makes his bones ache. It reminds him of the time he spent the year sealed away, starving and alone in that old, dusty tome. Is he no better than Cazador? He buries the thought.
“I should have brought her a change of clothes,” Shadowheart cringes while discarding the robe, fabric soaked and heavy with blood.
“I have her clothing. I will fetch her something when we finish,” he concludes almost absentmindedly, his mind focused on wrapping her with the roll of bandages.
“You have her clothes?” Shadowheart gawks at him, eyes rounded with surprise, “Still?”
“Yes.”
He does not explain further. He still can’t recall why her bedroom was separate from his. Worse yet, it was down in the spawn quarters. Did he put her down there? Why?
“We can do no more for her tonight,” he murmurs as the backs of his fingers graze down her arm. He doesn’t even bother to look at Shadowheart. He points toward the door, “Guest bedrooms are in the west wing. Take your pick.”
Shadowheart crosses her arms and sniffs, “I will not be leaving her half-naked with the likes of you.”
He tires of this and these accusations that he will act indecently. Maybe he is a monster, but he is not as twisted as they all seem to believe he is. He does not have the energy or the restraint to participate in petulant arguments. If Shadowheart pushes him too far, which is an utter certainty, he will be Astarion no longer.
Astarion, he reminds himself again. I am Astarion.
He catches Shadowheart’s eyes and compels her, “You will go to the first guest bedroom you find, and you will sleep until dawn."
Shadowheart’s pupils dilate wide, and red tendrils trail around her as his compulsion roots into her mind.
“I will sleep until dawn,” Shadowheart repeats, absent and emotionless, getting up and leaving him alone.
He sighs with relief and drags a chair to the side of the bed. Dawn is an hour or two away, at best, but it is enough. He leans back, resting his elbow on the armrest and his forehead in his hand. This was his fault. He dragged her into this mess with the Gur. He knew they had been trying to track him, but he did not know they knew about her.
He will find where they are hiding and slaughter the lot of them for this. Why stop there? He will hunt every tribe of Gur to the ends of Faerûn and eradicate them from existence entirely. They will all pay in blood for what has occurred tonight.
She coughs and mutters indiscernibly. A voice inside his head wails that he should destroy her because she makes him feel, and that makes him weak. She makes him weak. He thrusts the thought down, frowning in disgust at himself for ever having it in the first place.
Gods below, what has he become? He’s spent months watching her from a distance. At first, he told himself he kept being dragged back to that terrible little hovel because he felt a foul sort of gratification in watching her suffer as she withered away to skin and bones or cried on the ground.
It made him feel good, powerful, but above all, needed. For a time, he savoured her misery as if he were sipping it like a fine wine.
He can’t remember exactly when it stopped being enjoyable.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles with a shaky breath, kissing her palm and interlocking his fingers with hers, “I’m so sorry. I will not fail you again.” 
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“It’s the wizard.”
He can hear emotion siphon from his voice, a sheet of ice crystallizing it. Her beautiful eyes are wide and round with fear, her mouth dropping open slightly. The tips of her fangs peek out of her full lips, disorienting him for a moment. Those fangs do not look like they belong in her mouth. Yet, he had put them there, didn’t he? She pulls the bedsheet up, grasping the silken linen in her fist and bringing it to her chest, shielding her body from him. He loathes the way she is looking at him. She is frightened of him. There was a time not too long ago when she trusted him beyond measure. He longs to see her look at him like that again.
But right now, the wizard is here to take her from him. He cannot lose her again. Gale cannot have her. She is his.
He takes a deep breath, trying to center himself. He can feel that unholy abomination within him start rampaging against its shackles. It pulls at the borders of his mind and whispers corruption in his thoughts, begging to be released.
“No. No, it can’t be. Gale doesn’t know where I am,” she stutters, panic taking flight and soaring into her voice, “You’re mistaken.”
If only he were.
He cocks his head, eyeing her warily and waves dismissively, “Shall we answer the door and find out?”
He tries to sit up. She relinquishes her linen shield and scrambles into his lap, squeezing him tightly between her thighs and straddling his waist. She plants her splayed hands on his chest and thrusts him down, grinding him into the bed with all the strength of her vampiric form.
She looks to the door, brows upturned, portraying her unease, and then looks back at him, “Ignore it.”
He lets her push him back and narrows his eyes in a challenging glower. Even with all her strength and weight behind her, he sits upright effortlessly in a slow advance. She forgets herself sometimes, forgets what he is, the power he possesses. He can feel her body trembling, her fingers digging into his chest, and he revels in the fear illustrated in the intricate details of her features.
He blinks hard and rids himself of that thought. It’s his ire forcing impulsive whispers through his head. If he wanted that, he could simply let himself slip away, and he would not even have to remember the savagery he dealt.
“Now, why ever would I ignore my old friend Gale?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s another well-practiced veneer, just another mask, one of his many.
“Please, Astarion,” she takes his hand and begs, “Ignore it.”
“No,” he retorts, easing her off him gradually and sliding off the bed. He grabs his trousers and throws them on.
She clambers ungracefully, grabbing her clothes, “Astarion, listen to me. Please. At least stay in here while I talk to him.”
He whirls on her with a snarl before he even knows what he is doing, “I am the Vampire Ascendant!” He shouts at her cruelly, “I take orders from no one!”
His eyes start their restless shifting. He marshals his resolve and the muscles in his arms strain. His fingers twitch as unseen talons claw rifts into his consciousness, and he reels to keep himself tethered to reality.
He must not give in.
Her arresting eyes bore into him. She speaks to him softly, using that silver tongue in her most zephyr intonation, “Stay you, please.”
She watches, observing his every movement. Shooting pains cleave through him. It feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside out, and Gods, it hurts. If she were not looking at him like that, he might let himself be dragged away.
Astarion, he prompts himself; I am Astarion.
He jerks his eyes away from her while buttoning his chemise, “I’m trying,” he growls low, “Do not challenge me right now.”
A warning. He can feel himself sinking. All grace and fluidity have been depleted, and he moves stiff and rigidly. She picks up her shirt and stares at the tattered rag he tore from her body. He can still taste her pleasure sweet on his tongue, feel her dissolving around him, while his name rang like a prayer through these halls.
He told her he was going to make love to her, didn’t he? Why did he say that? He does not make love. A lapse in judgment in a moment of passion, surely. He does not dig deeper. He dares not follow the trail because he’s afraid of what he will disentomb.
He shifts his form and reappears by the door. Her footsteps descend the staircase so quickly he’s surprised she hasn’t sent herself tumbling. Perhaps he has managed to teach her something, after all.
He knows what awaits when he opens this door. Gale will try to take her from him again as he did before with his trivial illusions, sincere confessions and genuine love, but she belongs to him.
Astarion, Astarion, Astarion, he chants to himself as he takes a deep breath and opens the door.
Gale’s voice clamours through the halls as he pushes in, “Where is she, Astarion? What have you done to her!”
“That’s Lord Astarion to you, Gale.” His voice is tight, soaked in cordial falsity, “How lovely to see you. Welcome to our home.”
Gale scoffs at him, brows furrowed, “Lord Astarion? You cannot be serious?”
“Oh, I am dead serious.” He seethes through clenched teeth, brows pulled down in a menacing scowl, “In my home, you will show me the proper respect I am due.”
“Respect?” Gale shouts at him in a rage, arms gesturing wildly, “You lost any hope of respect as soon as you forced undeath on her.”
Forced undeath on her? Forced?! He did no such thing! He requested, and she accepted. Her undying loyalty for an eternity with him.
A simple transaction.
... Right?
The edges of his vision are starting to ripple and blacken, a sure sign he is losing.
She runs around the corner, almost tripping over her feet, and her words blunder out of her mouth briskly, “Gale, stop! You don’t understand what you’re doing. You’re putting us all in danger.”
“Yes, Gale,” he chimes cooly, “I am very dangerous.”
His memory flashes with images of himself standing, blood dripping from his hair, off his fingertips and chin. Mangled bodies are strewn haphazardly around him, open mouths lamenting silent screams as their milky eyes cast judgment on him. He does not recall dealing these deaths, only waking up in the aftermath of his primal sadism.
Gale ignores him and reaches toward her. He doesn’t even realize he’s moving until he’s twisted Gale’s arm behind his back. He fumes, “Do not touch her. She is mine.”
He considers breaking the wizard’s arm with a gleeful, ghoulish smile, tugging his lips up. He applies a little more force, and Gale cries out. The pained bawl is music to his ears, and he almost floats away on the bewitching hymn.
“Astarion, stop it.” Her cold hands clutch his heated cheeks, “Look at me. I’ve got you, but I need you to hold on.”
He focuses on those fascinating multicoloured doe-eyes through the storm clouding his vision. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself to release Gale with a grunt. His limbs feel numb - like they are not his and should not be attached to his body. He shudders and leans back against the wall, with such pressure that cracks begin extending across the wood panelling. Agony explodes behind his eyes. He’s sweating, perspiration rolling down his forehead and temples and the delicate black fabric of his chemise clings to his damp body.
She drags Gale out of the manor into the sunbathed street, trying to put as much distance between him and Gale as possible. She squeezes her eyes closed and grits her teeth as the radiant light spreads over her snowy skin.
I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. He wants to tell her, but he is no liar. She is safe with him, Astarion, but he cannot be sure of his actions if he is overtaken and subdued.
“What in the Hells is going on here?” Gale yells at her, “What are you thinking going back to him? He killed you and then left you to rot in the sewers! Do you remember how Shadowheart and I found you? You were out of your mind with hunger!”
Rot in the sewers? What the fuck was Gale talking about? He never left her in the sewers. Did he? His memories are fragmented and unreliable. He remembers defeating the Netherbrain, the searing pain in his head, standing on the docks, and little else. The first vivid thing he can recall is watching her walk out the palace door, tears gliding down her face, her eyes shimmering wet in the moonlight, and her voice trembling as she said goodbye.
He does not know what is happening to him, but he knows there is more to the Rite than the devil let on, and whatever ails him is slowly eating away at whatever is left of him.
“Yes,” she mewls, a hand coming to her forehead in an exasperated gesture, “I remember. It doesn’t matter now. You shouldn’t be here, Gale. Go home. I will come when night falls, and we can discuss this then.”
“Why are you putting yourself in harm’s way again, for him of all people.” Gale scolds her and makes those voices in his thoughts croon louder, promising the wizard’s death, telling him he won’t have to blame himself, “Is this some sort of compulsion? Has Astarion forced you to do this? You’ve always had a big heart, but you have never been stupid.”
Did he call her stupid? He will rip out Gale's fucking tongue for speaking to her in such a manner.
“Astarion hasn’t compelled me,” she retaliates in a cutting inflection, but he hears the unmistakable notes of uncertainty, “I am here of my own volition.”
“No, I do not believe that.” Gale decrees, sure and confident, “I think Astarion knows how to manipulate you, and he continues to do so, as he always has done.”
“Perhaps he is,” she sighs, “But perhaps he isn’t. It matters not. The choice is mine to make, and the consequences are mine to bear, whatever they may be.”
Gale’s voice loses its keen edge and drops low, “You fled from Astarion, from this life. Why return to it? Help me understand, my friend.”
Her fists clench at her sides, and she growls, frustrated with the inquisition. “Isn’t it obvious? I love him,” she shouts, squaring off with Gale, “I love him, and I will not, cannot, give up on him!”
He stares at her back, mouth dropping open and eyes rounded. He did not expect this. She is doing this because he promised her freedom, is she not? Another transaction.
“That man,” Gale spits, “No, that monster cannot love you. Not anymore. You’re coming home with me.”
Bitterness rises hot in his throat and coats the back of his tongue. He’s spent lifetimes having someone dictate what he can and cannot do, and he will stand for it no longer.
He does love-
He cuts the thought off abruptly as if it were a stray stitch unravelling from a grand tapestry. His blood solidifies, icy in his veins.
If he admits this, it becomes real, and she alone has the power to destroy him, wreck him beyond all hope of repair.
Yet, despite his best efforts, whatever he retains of his soul weakly whispers on, ruing against his restraint.
I love you too.
He groans and leans forward, hands on his knees, trying to keep himself upright. His brain feels like it’s twisting in his skull. Oblivion is edging closer, vines made of shadow reaching out to him and twisting around his limbs.
“No, Gale. Stop,” she screams, her feet dragging across the paved stone street, “You are going to get us both killed!”
“I am not afraid of Astarion,” Gale says, resolute.
He’s heard enough, “You should be, Gale.” he hisses as he emerges from the doorway, “Leave. Now. She has made her choice.”
The sun is bright in his eyes, much too bright and hot on his already feverish skin. He forces himself to stand straight, though he wants to double over.
Gale scowls at him, brows pulled down, “You did this, didn’t you? You compelled her, exerted your will over her and forced her into this servitude!”
Gale would want to believe that, wouldn’t he? Blame him for being the puppet master, because then Gale would not have to face the truth.
Despite it being the objectively stupid thing to do, she loves him.
“Gale, go home,” she screams, anger thrusting into her voice, “I will explain everything, but you must go before it’s too late. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
His body does not feel like it’s under his control, and movement feels wrong. Gripping her arm, his fingers dig into her flesh, and he hauls her backward toward the manor with so much force that he wrenches her off her feet and into the air. An anguished cry chokes from her throat. It breaks him from the daze. He did not mean to hurt her.
“I didn’t mean to-”
He doesn’t get to finish before he’s pushed back and off balance by a sudden, strong gust of wind, far too powerful to be anything natural.
He rights himself quickly, whirls, and watches in horror as a radiant beam of pure sunlight careens toward her. It washes over her before he can move, and a shrill, soul-shattering scream wrests from her throat.
The demon bursts from its prison with pain so torturous it fractures his psyche, liquefying his brain matter.
He’s dragged down, down, down, where everything is quiet and dark.  
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Sunbeam spills over you in an upsurge. Your skin sears, your eyes sizzle in their sockets, and white-hot pain swarms your vision. Falling to your hands and knees, a cry so shrill tearing from your throat, it feels like it rips your vocal cords to tatters.
“Are you pleased, wizard?” Astarion drawls, “Look what you’ve done to my most precious treasure.”
Astarion’s voice is distant and emotionless, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s lost the fight with himself. If you do not do something quickly, Gale’s blood will soak these streets, and it will be on your hands. Astarion told you those who provoke him rarely survive. Gale will be no exception.
Gritting your teeth, you push through the pain, making your nerves sing and blink to clear your vision. Astarion stalks toward Gale, laughing as if deranged while he nimbly dodges every one of Gale’s attacks, a predator playing with their prey like a cat with a mouse.
From the ground, you cast Hold Person, halting Astarion. He wars against his restraints. You will not be able to hold him long.
“Gale,” you sputter as you feel your concentration breaking, splintering at the seams like an overstuffed doll, “I cannot hold him long. Run to the waypoint and get home.”
Gale shakes his head, “I won’t leave-”
You trample over him, “If you don’t, we are both dead. Go! Now!”
Seconds that feel like hours pass before Gale turns and disappears down the street. You hold Astarion for as long as possible, vying to give Gale enough time to get to the waypoint. You can only hope Astarion does not decide you’re too broken and no longer fun to toy with.
Astarion rallies against your impediment and Hold Person breaks and shatters as your concentration is pushed beyond its limits.
Trembling, you try to push yourself to your feet, but you can’t get your limbs and muscles to obey orders. You don’t hear Astarion’s footsteps as they approach, but his proximity is betrayed by his beating heart.
Astarion’s hand curls into your hair, pulling you to your feet with an unforgiving yank, “You should not have intervened in my fun.”
“Astarion-”
His hand slams into the bottom of your chin, making your teeth clash with so much force you’re sure they will buckle and disintegrate in your mouth.
“Don’t “Astarion” me. It will not work this time,” he growls with a taunting edge, “Astarion is gone. I am the Vampire Ascendant! I am a God, and I will not be caged! Do you hear me? You are nothing, and you cannot save him.”
He talks about himself as if they’re two different people.
Astarion looks around, and a menacing smile slinks across his lips, “Perhaps I should simply let you burn and put an end to this once and for all.”
Panic forces your hand. Whoever this person is, he is not Astarion, and he may very well let you burn. You press your palm against his chest and let liquid fire, hot as the fires in Phlegethos, explode against him. The instant you feel his clutch release, you throw yourself back into the safety of the manor.
Crawling further inside, you push yourself up with the aid of a wall as your knees quake under your weight. You look up just in time to see Astarion’s hand as it slams into your throat, and he lifts you off your feet. His grip is stringent and unforgiving, and bruises instantly varnish your pallid skin, narrating abuse with dark hues of blue, purple and red. You kick against the air hopelessly, feet trying to find purchase.
You pull at his wrist and hand, digging your nails into him, blemishing his ashen skin with bloodied, jagged lacerations. You try to speak, but he increases the pressure on your throat, and nothing can make it out of your compressed esophagus.
You keep your eyes away from Astarion’s; you cannot look into those ruby-red eyes and see him look at you like you are nothing. Not after he has been looking at you like you’re everything.
Astarion’s head rears back, and his fangs plunge like icepicks into your neck. He shakes his head side to side like an animal trying to tear your throat out. You try to cry out, and your fingernails claw at his arms and face. He draws blood in erratic, unrestrained gulps and swallows it greedily. It spills from his mouth, running down your neck in a tributary, soaking into your shirt.
You oppose his hold on you, but it’s no use. Astarion is too strong, and you’re far too depleted. Astarion is going to drain you dry once again, and you stop fighting it. He cannot kill you like this, but what he does with your unconscious body afterwards is another story entirely. You dare not think about it.
Your limbs are the first to start feeling the effects of blood loss with tingles spreading to your fingertips. Even though it’s not possible, you still feel the sensation of paling further and growing colder as you begin to feel faint. Your body goes limp in his clutch as it numbs to the point where not even your fingers have the energy to twitch. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes spurn your effort to keep them open. A quiet, pathetic whimper escapes your parted lips.
Suddenly, Astarion rips his fangs from your neck, rough and painful. The agony snaps you back into your body. You fall to the ground in a shuddering heap. Blood continues to flow freely from your neck and spreads sanguine streams in the cracks between the wooden plank flooring, overflowing and pooling around your face and shoulders.
You watch Astarion stagger backward. Violent spasms wrack his body, and he falls to his hands and knees. He convulses, body writhing and twisting, and his fingernails make deep, long gouges into the floor, bloodying his fingertips.
You’ve seen him fight himself before, but it’s never looked like this. Good Gods, this is pure, undiluted suffering, and tears well up in your eyes.
I did this to him. This is my fault.
You try to speak, but the pain in your throat is unbearable. Your fingers splash in bloody puddles as you flex them. It takes every ounce of energy you have left, but you reach out and place your hand over Astarion’s as it claws the ground. His surprised eyes dart to you at the contact.
You keep your eyes focused on the beautiful red of his, in case it’s the last time you see them, as your world fades to black.  
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Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!
AO3 [Crossposted]
Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts
If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past
Small Notes:
So we did backtrack quite a bit in this chapter, but I thought it was important to learn why Astarion was even around for the Gur attack, and also to get a good look into what's going on in his head.
Trying something new with Astarion's POV. Let me know if it works or not, and I might keep switching perspectives.
Also, the new patches additional kisses - be still my beating heart.
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Reiner's superiors noticing him pining for a Darling and deciding to use her as a way to keep him motivated. They'll convince/coerce/outright FORCE her to accept his advances and be with him as a sick kind of prize
The saddest part is that Reiner, underneath the delusions he likes to believe in, he knows that they're not with him willingly. And he loves them but...he doesn't care. He needs them, they're ALL he has. He'll come back to his quarters and practically tackle them in a hug, breathing in their scent and clutching them tight. His nightmares are less intense when they're in bed with him. The only reason he agrees to go on long missions is because he needs to do everything possible to keep them in his life, and that means being the best Warrior possible.
If they're from before he goes to Paradise, he'd keep dozens of little mementos of them while he's away: a locket with their picture and a few pieces of their hair, a handkerchief with their scent all over it, a stolen note with their handwriting he'd taken when he first stalked her. He's masturbated to all three of them while on away missions.
I think that while he's in Paradise, he'd insist that they stay on the ship docked at the coast with the crew for the months he'd be away--that way he can see them as soon as possible. If they're someone he falls in love with while in Paradise, he'd snatch them up and refuse to leave with Zeke and the others until they let him bring her.
Either way, the first time he's with her he's a desperate man and it SHOWS. His hands are shaking when he cups her cheek and starts to undress her, he's crying a little as he smiles and says such sweet, passionate, terrifying things to her while holding her down.
"I love you, I love you so much...I'd die for you. I'd KILL for you. I've done so much to keep you safe and close to me, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."
"Please, please don't cry! I promise I'm going to make you feel so good, we're gonna feel so good together. Smile for me."
"You look so cute when you're sleeping, y'know. I finally get to see it up close and not through your window."
"You know how I had that whole story in my head about being a Soldier, not a warrior? You were part of it; I'd fight the Titans, live to the end of the war, and then I'd settle down on a farm with you as my wife. Hehe...I even tried drawing up what your wedding dress could look like and learn to sew so I could make it myself. Once we're back in Marley, we'll get married for real."
"Your panties...fuck, they look so pretty. I always wanted to see what the pair I stole from you looked like when you were wearing them, instead of all folded up in your drawer."
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