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#smoothing out his hair and tucking any loose strands behind his ear
verysium · 5 months
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BLUE LOCK REVERSE ICKS 😳
😭 i read this as blue lock icks and was about to drag them all through the dirt with a brutally honest character review. but anyways, reverse icks is still a good idea, so here you go anon:
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rin has abandonment issues. now before u come for me, let me explain. ever since sae left him, he's been hesitant to let anyone back into his heart, and that's why you mean so much to him. his hand automatically reaches for yours in the crowd so you don't get separated. when he has nightmares and dreams of you leaving, he wakes up, patting frantically on your side of the bed until he finds your body and relaxes. hugs you as if he'll never let go and buries his face into the crook of your neck and just whispers "thank fucking god." and you can see his chin wobbling as he struggles so hard not to cry, but deep down you know he's a very sensitive soul and you're quite literally his whole world.
sae's entire character is a reverse ick. have you not seen that man? he is beautiful. but i'll give u a little scenario: sae attends a charity gala, and you're invited as his plus one. you're busy getting ready in the bathroom, and he just leans against the doorframe, breath hitching when he sees you all dolled up in your fancy dress. coughs to hide his blush when you turn around and ask him for help. creeps behind you silently, his hot breath grazing your nape as his deft fingers reach for your zipper. his hands are callused and gentle when they clasp the back of your necklace (the one he bought for you), and the cold metal contrasts with the warmth of his hands on your shoulders. his heart is beating so fast that his fingers tremble and struggle with his tie, so you fix it for him but when your gaze travels back up his face, you catch him staring down at you, his eyes filled with an intense emotion. your gesture of kindness reminds him of his mother and how he hasn't gone back home in ages and how blessed he is by the gods to have you in his life.
kaiser does the hair tuck thing where he kisses a strand of your hair and smooths it behind your ear. he tries so hard to be a suave and charming gentleman, but honestly he's just an awkward loser. screams like a girl when you watch horror movies together and hugs you so tightly you think your lungs might burst. but then he gradually quiets down and falls asleep in your arms, and you think maybe he's not so bad. he canonically is not a morning person, so when he wakes up, he has the homeless cut 2.0 with the wild bed head and groggy facial expression. also has a weird habit of walking around the house naked. in any other situation, you would've yelled at him to put some clothes on, but his physique was looking extra good today, and you sort of got distracted. he definitely noticed and not-so-subtly flexed his biceps. always tries to make you laugh even though his pick-up lines are terrible and he can't tell a good joke to save his life.
nagi sometimes wakes up before you and pulls your body closer to him. on most occasions though, it's you who wakes up before him and he drags you back to bed. he hates it when you work late and hovers above you like a phantom, waiting for you to finally finish and go cuddle with him. if it gets to the point where you fall asleep while working, he will tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight. the next morning, you find all your work finished, albeit in poor handwriting. in all honesty, nagi is a genius, and he tries hard for you and only you. if any other person asked them to finish their work, he would've flat-out rejected them.
isagi is good with children but often at his own expense. unsuccessfully tries to make a baby laugh but ends up getting distracted and slamming face first into a telephone pole. now that made the baby start giggling, and he just smiled through tears with a red bump on his forehead, insisting that he was alright and didn't just knock his two front teeth loose. whenever he babysits your siblings/cousins, he ends up doing all the grueling work like changing diapers, taking out the trash, cleaning up after the gremlins. and yet the children will still favor you and not him. tries to act like he's not heartbroken but boy did that sting a little too much.
barou buys you flowers. has a big stupid blush on his big stupid face and refuses to admit that his heart skips a beat every time you look at him. does that thing where he looks the opposite way to pretend like he's not interested before shoving a bouquet into your hands. he's also very protective. holds your hand when you cross the sidewalk so you don't get run over. holds the door open for you every time. tried to make those origami hearts for you, but his fingers are thick and stubborn, and he stayed up all night in a fit of rage because he's not used to delicate work like this. you ended up getting a lopsided piece of crumpled paper that barou insisted was a heart, and you agreed because why would you hurt his feelings?
chigiri knows how to braid your hair. makes you sit in front of the mirror while his slender fingers carefully brush the soft strands. he can get complex too. dutch braids. french braids. fishtail braids. also does that cheesy couple tradition where he braids a piece of his own hair with yours as a symbol of love. most people don't know this, but he's actually a crackhead. sometimes when you're walking down the street, he'll do impersonations of the various people he sees. the old lady at the laundromat. the two aunties at the flower shop. the fisherman near the boardwalk. he even imitated your dad once, and you nearly lost it. he's too funny guys, but you need a sophisticated sense of humor to understand him.
and that's about it. sorry this was so short anon, but my brain is dessiccated this week.
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xas24 · 7 months
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showering with pedri but it’s nothing sexual
as close as possible ~ pedri
summary: loving showers with pedri.
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[gif credits to: @pedripics bc it doesn’t say it under it as usual🤷🏽‍♀️]
the water cascaded down the two bodies, encasing them both in a bubble of warmth and love and absolutely boiling hot water. it was satanic; pedri never understood why y/n loved showering in such hot water, how the hell it didn’t burn her skin in any way but alas, he had no choice if this was their way of ‘saving water’, as he had put it.
pedris hands lay splayed out on his girlfriends waist, gently squeezing her wet skin ever so often. her hands were in his hair as she massaged his shampoo into his scalp. the familiar fragrance of it wafted throughout the steamy bathroom and y/n revelled in it. she absolutely loved the fresh, handsome smell of his products.
his eyes were shut in relaxation, loving the way her fingers smoothed against his skin and the wet strands. she allowed her nails to rake down the back of his head and towards his neck, letting her thumbs flatten down behind his ears before moving back into his hair. in that moment, pedri thought there was absolutely no other feeling better than this.
a giggle left her lips when she flattened her hands against eachother and brought his shampooed hair up to look like a mohawk. pedri opened his eyes and through the sneaky glint in her eyes, he knew what she was doing. a chuckle followed from his own mouth as he leaned down and smushed his head into her neck.
his arms tightened around her body, tucking his face into her neck and playfully biting her. his teeth clamped down, her giggles increased and her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, face tilting into his to move his playful bites away from her.
“eres tonta.” (you’re silly.) pedri laughed when he felt his hair and his shampoo mohawk.
he shoved his head under the shower spray and let it slowly dissolve and wash away. one of his hands still grabbed onto y/ns waist, the other rubbing the shampoo out of his head. once he was done, he reached for her shampoo bottle.
y/n had a little smile on her face as she watched his excited expression. they rarely showered together, but whenever they did, pedri always got excited to wash her hair. he never specified why, and y/n never questioned him because it just felt so good.
his hands were definetely skilled, which was ridiculous because he’s just washing her hair, but hell, it was the way they just felt in her hair, and the fact that it was his gorgeous hands massaging her scalp. she was insane for finding it so attractive but it was him, so how could she not.
her eyes closed out of pure bliss and she hummed in satisfaction. pedri, who was now gently rubbing around the base of her head, smirked to himself.
“te gusta eso?” (you like that?)
“sí, se siente tan bien.” (yes, it feels so nice.)
pedri then leaned forward and gently bit her shoulder and she instantly squealed, lifting her shoulder into her neck.
“stop biting me, pedro.” she chuckled, turning around to give him a glare. pedri couldn’t help himself and pressed his lips against hers in a quick kiss. she just looked so kissable right now, he couldn’t hold back.
she stared at him and his sneaky expression, trying to hold in his laugh, and her heart burst with love and a familiar comfort. the sort of comfort she always felt whenever he was around, whenever she was with him, in his arms.
y/n chuckled and grabbed the shower head instead, opting to wash the shampoo out of her hair, occasionally turning the head towards pedris face to spray him. he sputtered the water out of his face and y/n laughed out loud, earning another squeeze to her waist and a playful bite to her neck.
“pedro!”
“whattt?” he dragged out, basically hugging her body at this point. y/n still held the shower head in her hand and laughed out in exasperation. it’s been atleast ten minutes in the shower and they both have only applied shampoo in their hair. if this was pedris way of saving water, it clearly wasn’t working.
with pedri glued to her body, she placed the shower head back in its place before grabbing her conditioner. her hands were over his shoulders, his lips stuck to her skin, leaving kisses all over her face, jaw, neck and shoulder.
she rubbed some of her conditioner into his hair before putting some in the ends of her own.
“not really helping, are you?” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
pedri mumbled something into her neck but she couldn’t hear it over the loud sound of the water splashing down on them. the steam was now wafting around the whole bathroom, tinting the glass shower doors with its condensation.
“wash my body for me?” she asked him sweetly and pedri immediately detached himself from her to grab her body wash.
his hands were even gentler on her body than in her hair. they rubbed every inch of her wet skin, fingers tentatively pushing against any tense muscles he felt. he was extra gentle around her breasts, carefully massaging the substance into the soft skin and around the edges.
y/ns heart was actively bubbling with affection when he gently turned her around so he could clean her back too. she tilted her head, allowing his hands to move down her body, caressing her skin ever so softly. the strong smell of her body wash mixed with the smell of his shampoo from earlier and she couldn’t help dreamily smiling to herself.
it was so intoxicating and yet y/n felt more relaxed than she ever had been. her eyes were moving around the condensed shower door and she lifted her finger to it, drawing a little heart with his and her initial on both sides.
it was childish, a gesture so pathetically romantic you’d see it in a rom-com or something; but y/n softly chuckled to herself, watching as a few drops of water ran down the two letters, and a new layer of condensation gradually formed over it.
once pedri was done, she turned around and reached for his body wash, returning the gesture. she laid a kiss to his nose and lips before allowing her hands to wander around his body, leaving a bubbly trail of soap. it was serenity, it was comfortably silent whilst pedri enjoyed the way her soft hands felt against his warm skin.
but of course, the peace had to be disrupted because the two of them just could not go ten minutes without teasing each other in some way. when y/n pinched his waist, pedri released a breath through his nose, fingers pinching her shoulder in return.
the giggles and laughs and kisses went on for about another five or so minutes before they both rinsed off and decided that was enough water saving for today.
y/n wrapped her hair in a separate towel whilst pedri grabbed one of the bigger towels and wrapped both of their wet bodies in it, not denying the fact that even after a 45 minute shower of nothing but love and laughter, he still wanted to be as close to her as possible.
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delicatebarness · 16 days
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i think he knows | chapter three
Summary: Reader and Bucky get caught. Twice.
Warnings: Probably just Bucky smoking. If you think there is any then please let me know so I can add it.
Word Count: 1792
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A/N: Three chapters in one day, who am I? Also, this one hasn't been proofread so there most likely will be typos and/or mistakes.
Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1
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You jumped at the unexpected visitor, your heart began to race as you recognized Bucky now standing near your window, in your bedroom. Once again, his signature smirk found its way across his lips. You were momentarily speechless as his scent and aura filled the room.
“Bucky?” you asked, you tried to keep your voice steady and quiet, despite the rush of adrenaline running through you. “What are you doing here?” Rushing over to the window, you pushed Bucky to the side slightly so you could close it along with your curtain. You glanced over to Peter’s bedroom window while you pulled the curtains. You were met with dark brown eyes staring back at you. There was no way that he didn’t see the senior climbing in, or standing right there. 
Bucky never took his eyes off you, stepping closer the second you stopped messing with the curtains. “I couldn’t resist,” his voice was low and smooth. “I told you I’d see you around.” Your mind began to race, how do you respond to an unsuspected visit like this? You knew Steve would feel betrayed if he walked back in here. There was a part of you that was torn between the excitement of having Bucky so close and the choice you had made less than two minutes ago.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Bucky,” Taking a step back, you added a distance between you two. “ Steve doesn’t want me to see you.”
You sensed that you just added fuel to the fire Bucky had created as his smirk widened and closed the gap between the two of you. “As far as I can see, Sunshine, Stevie isn’t here. Is he?” Placing a finger under your chin, he tilted your head up to make eye contact with you. For the second time that day, you shook your head at him. “No, just you and me.”
Despite your judgment call merely moments ago, there was no way to deny the pull he had on you. With all the warnings ringing through your head, both in your voice and Steve’s, you still couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull towards him. 
“You should go,” you tried to sound firm but your voice wavered. “This isn’t right.” You jolted your head slightly so it was no longer being held by his finger. His expression softened, letting out a sigh while gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Maybe it’s not right,” Bucky admitted, his voice was barely a whisper. You lifted your head to try and get a read on his face. “But, it feels right, doesn’t it?”
You hesitated in your response, you could hear the rational voice of Steve in your head but Bucky’s touch was sending shivers down your spine. It was proving to be incredibly difficult to resist him. 
Just as you were about to respond, a knocking at your bedroom door ripped you both from your intense stare out. The knocks were closely followed by Steve’s voice calling your name. You started to panic as you turned to face the door, realizing that Steve could walk in at any second and find Bucky standing in your room. 
“This guy,” Muttering under his breath, you sensed a newfound panic coming from Bucky, his eyes had widened and they were scanning the room for suitable hiding spots. Without another thought you hurried Bucky toward the window and gestured for him to climb back down. He hesitated for a moment, looking back at you before whispering, “Goodnight Sunshine.” You replied with a quick, “Goodnight James.” as he started his climb. 
You took deep breaths to try and steady your pulse as Steve entered your room, he furrowed in confusion as he took in the sight of you at the window.
“Dinner’s ready, dad’s impatient,” He eyes you skeptically for a moment before, pointing towards the window. “I hope you’re closing that, Mom will go crazy if she smells that breeze.” You nodded in response to him, forcing a smile, you watched as he started to make his way down to the dinner table. Turning back to the window, you watched as Bucky walked his motorbike down the street, catching the moment he glanced back up at your window. 
So much for staying away.
~
The next afternoon, you sat in the school library buried beneath a stack of textbooks and sheets of class notes. It had been quiet for the most part, you were focused on your schoolwork, so focused you never sensed someone sitting down beside you. 
“Has anyone ever told you your concentration face is adorable?” You looked up to find Bucky sitting in the chair next to you, his face so close you’re almost bumping noses. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, you thought maybe the library would have been your safe space. No Steve telling you what, when, where, why, or how, and no Bucky filling you with both dread and excitement. Yet, here one of them was. 
“There’s never been anyone not scared of my brother enough to.” You confessed one of the few things that truly annoyed you about being the youngest Rogers. You watched as a glint appeared in his eyes as he shrugged.
“Your concentration face is adorable.” He spoke with confidence, proving to you that Steve does not instill any fear in him. You couldn’t help but notice his casual glance over your lips as you smiled at his comment. You’ve read enough books and watched enough shows to know what that look meant. Was he going to do it? Now? Here? 
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched his head tilt slightly to the side, his hand coming up to hold your cheek just like at his locker. His gaze never left your lips as his smirk once again appeared. 
“It feels like we should,” You found yourself melting under his touch, every second that passed with his skin against yours, you felt yourself weakening. Just as you were about to give in to temptation, a throat being cleared broke you from your haze. 
Looking up you found Peter sitting back in the seat across from you, the look of suspicion was evident as he looked between you and Bucky with curiosity and confusion. “Pete!” You exclaimed, you tried to keep your voice calm and light but the panic that rose from your chest turned it into a high-pitched squeal. 
“Found the book we needed for Bio,” his reply was casual, despite being the only other person who knew about Bucky’s visit last night but not yet knowing why. “Didn’t expect this when I came back.” Using his pen, he gestured between you and Bucky. 
A sinking feeling started to settle in your stomach, you knew that you had to explain to Peter what he saw last night. You worried that his suspicions could make this whole thing more complicated than it already was, his loyalty to Steve was also a factor you had to take into account. It wasn’t looking good on your end. 
Bucky left shortly after Peter referred to his presence, he didn’t make up any excuses for why he was leaving. He knew he already was risking a lot just by letting Peter see what almost happened. Once he was out of the library, you explained everything to Peter. Told him truthfully about how you were feeling, what happened the night before, and what he had walked into. 
~
You decided that morning that you wanted to stay back late and use the library to study, Steve offered to wait back for you to drive you home but you declined. He had plans with Sharon that night and didn’t want to keep them waiting. The town was small enough for you to walk home and get there way before dark anyway. 
The hallways were empty now, your footsteps echoed as you found your way toward the exit. Just as you walked out of the front doors of the school, you were greeted by Bucky leaning against the wall of the steps with a cigarette hanging from his lips. For a split second, you found yourself thinking about how you’d like to be that cigarette. Your cheeks flushing at the thought. 
“What are you still doing here?” You asked, looking around the almost empty parking lot. You admired him as he walked down the steps and used the bins provided to put out and dispose of the cigarette. He motioned toward his bike with the helmet he carried in his left hand. 
“Noticed you didn’t go home with Steve, or, leave with that Wanda or Peter you hang around with, so,” Once again, he gestured toward the bike. “Guessed you were still at the library and in need of a ride home.” Surprised as was an understatement, you couldn’t grasp onto the idea that this person, waited almost two hours extra after the last bell to offer you a ride home. You still hesitated to accept, you had never rode on a motorbike before. Everyone was quick to explain to you the dangers of driving and riding them from a young age. Also, it would be Bucky driving and someone could see you. 
“I, I don’t know,” Your newfound stutter had made a return as Bucky stepped closer to you, handing the helmet to you while taking your textbooks. 
“Come on, Sunshine, it’s late,” He sighed as he started to walk through the parking lot. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.” 
In that moment of uncertainty, his words offered a sense of reassurance that allowed you to nod in agreement with him. You put the helmet on as you walked, clipping it into place, you realized that he only had one with him. He lifted the seat to reveal an area for your textbooks to hide, but still no helmet. 
“Woah, what are you doing?” He exclaimed, reaching out and placing a hand on top of the helmet, stopping you from taking it off further. “We’ve got to make sure that pretty head of yours is protected.” Moving his hand down to your chin, he clipped it back together.
“But, what about-” He gave you a stern look, placing a finger over your lips to cut you off. Once he knew you wouldn’t protest anymore, he helped you climb onto the bike. After he explained some basic safety rules to you, the engine began to roar. The unfamiliar vibrations startled you, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky’s torso. 
As you clung onto Bucky, you pushed aside your doubts and let yourself enjoy the thrill of both riding a motorbike and being alone with Bucky.
---
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eyra · 9 months
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I hope you’ll forgive my selfishness, but I am dying to ask: What did Remus think the first time he saw Sirius in Beneath a Big Blue Sky??
today is your lucky day. I've mentioned a few times that I've dabbled in the possibility of one day writing more bits and pieces in the Beneath a Big Blue Sky world. whether or not this will ever all see the light of day I'm not sure, but since you asked, I'll share a little snippet of Remus and Sirius meeting for the first time - from Remus's point of view.
enjoy 🐑🐑 x
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“Mr Lupin, is it?”
Christ.
Remus nods slowly, shaking the other boy's hand. "If you like," he mutters. If I must be, he thinks. What a mess. What an absolute pain in the arse. "Two strong lads," Lyall had asked the agency for, and Remus knows because he was in the next room listening, and still smarting over the fact that his old dad wanted to hire help anyway. "We'll be reet," Remus had insisted, shaking out his left arm in proof that his shoulder was mostly healed, which it was. They would've managed: he still had his other arm, and all the ewes looked in good health so far, and bringing in two strangers to help run the season seemed like a fine waste of money to Remus and something they'd not done since he'd turned fifteen and proven that he was good and capable of handling just as much work as Lyall during the lambs, and he'd felt all kinds of embarrassed when Lyall had implied that this year he might need some help. As if he were now a problem to be solved, or somehow less of a man this year than he was last year, and certainly less than he ought to be.
But if they must get help - if Lyall must hire someone for a few months - then at the very least Remus had hoped that the workers who arrived would be up to the job. A couple of veterinary students, or something; someone who knew their way around a sheep, and it hadn't seemed too big an ask. As it is, the two boys standing dumbly in front of him on the station platform look less suited to farm work and more like they should be standing in a shop window somewhere, with their brand new boots and spotless, neatly-pressed cream trousers. Cream trousers, and all.
Remus remembers, one night in the late winter not long after the accident, being laid up in his bed in front of the fuzzy little television Hope had insisted on setting up in his room to keep him occupied during his recovery. It had a remote held together with Sellotape and a funny round aerial which didn't quite pick up the Freeview signal, and he'd been mindlessly flicking through the scant channels when he'd happened upon some reality programme or other; something about a load of toffs titting about London with daft haircuts and those cream trousers, and he wonders now if the two boys standing in front of him have seen the show, or realise how ridiculous they look.
Or at least, one of them looks ridiculous. The lanky one with the glasses and the palm that's far too smooth to have seen any real work in its life. He's still beaming down at Remus with a sort of manic smile, which sets Remus's teeth on edge - man looks insane - and then Remus lets his eyes slip away to the shorter boy standing next to him. And he's something else altogether. He's all cheekbones and soft, shoulder-length hair, the colour of Whitby jet, and it's tucked on the one side back behind his ear and then there's one pretty strand hanging loosely over his brow, and he's watching Remus uncertainly and when they make eye contact - when the noise of the four-by-four across the car park fades away to static, and the train on the platform huffs out a great cloud of smoke that Remus doesn't see - Remus feels his cheeks grow hot under his tan and something funny happens in his throat, and he thinks to himself: "Wow," and then, straightaway: "That’s bloody inconvenient."
They drive back to the farm in silence, mostly, and Remus swallows three times before asking the boy in the back seat for his name. Sirius, as it turns out; the dog star, and Remus suddenly recalls a night a decade ago when they'd been up on the fell and the air had been balmy and close and Lily had been reading out of that funny old book about the constellations. "What's that one?" Remus had muttered, pointing at a cluster of stars somewhere over the top paddock. Lily had yawned, and flicked over a few more pages. "Canis Major," she'd said around another yawn, and then: "That bright one's called Sirius, it says here," and Remus had squinted up at it, and frowned, and thought it was pretty good, as stars go. 
⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩
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rafedaddy01 · 4 months
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The Sex Counselor
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Part 2
If you want to read part one, I’ll link it for you here. And the request for this series is right here.
“So, y/n. Now that we are alone I’d like to get to know you better. Tell me some of your sexual interests. Any kinks or fantasies?” He clicks his pen and opens his notebook. I feel flustered as I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and smooth out the crease in my dress before clearing my throat to speak, “um, I’ve never really thought about it. Me and my husband aren’t very spontaneous in the bed room” I let a breathy laugh before continuing “I guess some dirty talk would be nice once in a while. You know, talking me through what you’re gonna do. Oh maybe anal, I’ve never actually tried it but it seems fun!” Dr. Cameron writes down what I say before closing his notebook and placing one ankle over the knee on his other leg.
“Go on” he says as he straightens out his tie.
My eyes fall to the rings on his fingers, the butterflies in my stomach making an appearance.
“Well my husband isn’t very much into foreplay. When he wants to have sex, we tend to just get right down to it.” I catch a glimpse of his jaw clenching at my words. “Y/n.” He loosens his tie, taking it off and tossing it on the desk behind him. “Let’s try an exercise. I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself and I will talk you through it. The purpose being to see how it makes you feel when someone tells you exactly how good you’re doing, to see if it changes the outcome of your orgasms.” I blush at what he’s asking me to do. Not that I don’t want to, I feel a strange attraction to this man, I feel the need to want to hear his praise.
“Dr. Cameron-“
“Please, call me Rafe” he shoot’s me a smile and my insides melt. “And there is no need to feel embarrassed, this is simply just a test to see how your body reacts.” He uncrosses his legs and sits up straighter. I nod and stand to remove my dress, leaving me in a black matching panty set. I see Rafe swallow hard as his eyes dart down to my breasts and linger on my curves before meeting my eyes again.
He urges me to continue with his hand as he places a fist under his chin and watches. I remove my panties and sit back down, propping my legs up on the coffee table. Spreading my legs open.
“Show me how you want someone to pleasure you” his eyes fall down between my legs. I nod and bring my fingers to my clit, I’m already a little wet and it helps as I glide through my folds and swipe back up to my clit, circling it. A moan escapes my lips as my head falls back against the couch. “That’s right, keep going. You’re doing so good” The encouraging words make all my nerves go away as I get more comfortable. I slip one finger inside me and then another. Gliding in and out at a sensual pace. One of my hands comes up to my breasts, toying with the peaked nipple through the fabric.
“Such a good girl” I hear Rafes praise from right next to me and my head shoots back up, making eye contact with his blue ones. “It’s okay. Keep going, make yourself feel good” he tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear and his eyes dart back between my legs. I do as he says and pick up the pace, curving my fingers a little and hitting that spot inside me that as me arching my back. I feel a set of fingers press against my clit and I come undone. My juices squirting out of me and landing all over Rafes couch. I moan and my body thrashes as I come down from my high. “I-I’ve never-“ “You’ve never squirted before?” Rafe questions as he looks at the mess I made on his couch.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I scramble to put my clothes back on.
“I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to make such a mess” “Y/n, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. I’d like to hear more about how that felt for you” he takes his seat back on his chair as I zip up my dress and smooth out the bottom of it as I take a seat, avoiding the mess I made.
“It felt- well it felt fantastic! I’ve never had an orgasm so intense. Normally when I take care of myself they are pretty mildly pleasing, but this one- it felt amazing” I feel my cheeks heat at his intense stare.
“Well I think we’ve made some progress today. I look forward to meeting with you next week” he stands from his seat and I follow him to the door.
He places a hand on the small of my back as he reaches for the handle and my body litters with goosebumps from his touch. “Thank you, Rafe. I look forward to it too” I bite my bottom lip and give him a curt nod before exiting.
Once again I hear the soft click of the door closing behind me and I can’t help but feel excited about my next session.
Taglist
@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @hoesindifferentshows @rafemotherfuckingcameron
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chvoswxtch · 1 year
Text
trouble
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: it's been almost two weeks since you've seen frank, and in his absence, you've been left in the questionably capable hands of billy russo.
warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death
word count: 6k
a/n: this is part 3 of this series! i'm so so so happy that you guys are enjoying bodyguard frankie. I still don't have a clear idea of how many parts this will be, but as long as you keep wanting it, i'll keep writing it. as a reminder, this is going to be a slow burn. ;) & as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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It had been two weeks since you had seen Frank. You had found out from one of the other bodyguards that he was on a special assignment, and was due back in another week or so. It was hard not to let your mind wander about where he was, what he was doing, who he was with…if he didn’t like being away from you as much as you despised being away from him. 
He probably hasn’t thought about you once.
You shoved that thought as far back into your mind as you could, focusing back on the blank document that was currently mocking you from your computer screen. A knock sounded on your door, and as you looked up, you saw a face that you’d been seeing more and more of lately in Frank’s absence.
Billy Russo.
“Mr. Russo.”
“C’mon Y/N/N, how many times I gotta tell you to call me Billy. Mr. Russo’s so…formal.”
“Says the man always in a three piece suit.”
“I got appearances to keep up.”
Billy flashed you a charming grin as he smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket, undoing the middle button as he closed the door behind him and took a seat in the chair directly in front of your desk.
“Are you always this hands on with all of your clients? I’ve seen you more this past week than I’ve seen my own boss.”
“Nah, you’re a special situation that requires special attention.”
“Why’s that?”
Billy leaned back in the chair as he looked at you, that cheshire grin splitting further across his lips as he let his eyes wander shamelessly over your figure. Billy Russo was one of those guys that knew he was attractive, which only made him less attractive to you. He always looked too perfect. Always dressed in the most expensive suits, not a single hair ever out of place, beard always trimmed and neat, constantly being driven around in numerous luxury cars. While he wasn’t overly cocky, there was a smugness about him that made you want to roll your eyes every time he was around. Billy owned the company that Frank and the others worked for, but you hadn’t been able to figure out why he had been coming to visit you at least once a day for the past week.
“Told Frankie I’d look after you personally.”
Frankie.
You sat up a little straighter at the mention of Frank’s name, staring curiously at Billy as your face morphed into an expression of interest.
“Why?”
“Because he asked me to. Apparently, you like to cause trouble.”
Billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he adjusted the Rolex watch on his wrist, never once breaking eye contact with you. Whatever hope that had been ignited by the first half of his words was immediately snuffed out by the second half.
Frank wasn’t concerned about you. He had warned Billy about you.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned back into your chair and stared blankly at your computer.
“I’m not causing any trouble any time soon. Trust me.”
“Regrettin’ your decision that caused all this?”
Billy gestured between himself and the other bodyguards outside your office, the grin on his lips faltering as he stared at you with genuine novelty. Narrowing your eyes slightly as you stared back at him, you pursed your lips and shook your head defiantly.
“I didn’t cause anything.”
Tapping his index finger against the wood of the arm chair, Billy cocked his head to the side as he surveyed you silently for a moment.
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
“I feel like even if I say no you’re going to anyway.”
The playful smirk returned to Billy’s mouth as he held his hands up in surrender for a moment before letting them drop back onto his lap.
“You can tell me to fuck off if you want.”
Letting out a dry laugh, you rolled your eyes as you glanced around your office before focusing back on him, giving a gentle nod of your head.
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you do it?”
The faint smile on your lips disappeared at his question. You lightly dug your nails into your palms, a slight sense of enragement filling your veins as you stared blankly at the notes in front of you. People had been asking you that ever since the article came out, and you were sick of justifying yourself.
“Because I didn’t want those assholes to think I agreed with anything they stood for.”
“You did write an article praisin’ the Punisher. He took justice into his own hands. That’s what those guys think they’re doing-”
“I didn’t praise him. I wrote an article about the complexities of vigilantes and the weaknesses in the justice system. What the Punisher did wasn’t right, but he never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. These…these cowards, they’re homegrown terrorists. They go after anyone that doesn’t agree with them-”
“And you thought it was smart to antagonize them?”
Billy leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs, staring directly into your eyes with a look of severity you hadn’t seen in him before. Shaking your head slowly, you let out a deep exhale of frustration before meeting his gaze again.
“They took my words and twisted them to fit and justify their own fucked up narrative. I didn’t want them or anyone else thinking for a second that I agreed with, or believed in their bullshit ‘cause’. They’ve hurt and killed innocent people. I wanted them to know exactly what I thought of them. And I’d do it all fucking over again, exactly the same. I don’t regret anything.”
Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to offend a group that had been terrorizing New York with various bomb threats and attacks, but you couldn’t sit idly by while they used your Punisher article to justify themselves. Maybe you shouldn’t have verbally eviscerated the leader that had called into your radio interview, or write that scathing follow up piece that further dismantled his ego. It certainly would have kept him from threatening you and everyone that worked at your paper, forcing Homeland Security to get involved, and causing you to walk around with an assigned shadow the past few months. 
But what was your other option? Stay quiet and let them think you were on their side just because they were dangerous? Live in fear of pissing off some weak man with a fragile ego?
Fuck that.
Billy’s lips once again split into a wolfish grin, and his eyes almost seemed to be glowing with something that resembled pride. He nodded his head in a sign of respect, settling back into the chair as his eyes once again roamed over you.
“I see why he likes you.”
Blinking a few times, you stared in dumbfoundment as Billy’s words settled in your ears. A dark chuckle left his lips as he stood, buttoning his jacket up while he made his way over to your door. Pausing in the entryway, he lightly gripped onto the handle and looked at you over his shoulder with a smirk.
“See you Saturday night, doll.”
“W-what?”
“The gala. You’re goin’ still, right?”
“Uh…yeah. Why?”
“Who do you think is takin’ you in Castle’s absence?”
Stunning you silent for the second time in less than two minutes, Billy’s lips spread into a smirk as he dropped his left eye into a wink, closing your door shut behind him to leave you alone with a flurry of thoughts swirling around in your head like a snowglobe that had been violently shaken. 
The gala.
Fuck.
Frank was supposed to be your escort. He was the primary one in charge of your detail at all times. Billy had assured your boss and Homeland that Frank was the best of the best, and the only time he swapped out with someone else was when they changed shifts during week nights. Or when he was pulled to do something that was more important than protect you from a terrorist group, apparently. A part of you wondered if he really was pulled, or if he had requested a break from you after the shit you had pulled.
There was no denying the disappointment you felt at the thought of not getting to see Frank all dressed up for a black tie event. It made sense Billy would be the one to take his place. He would blend in a lot easier than Frank, but he wasn’t who you wanted to spend the evening with. Dragging your palms down your face, you let out a deep exhale as you picked up your notes for the article you were supposed to be working on, the words blurring together in a jumbled mess as you read over them for the millionth time. You’d had an extremely hard time focusing lately with Frank being gone, trying your hardest not to think about the look on his face when he had left, the wedding ring around his neck, or anything about him. But now with Billy’s confession echoing in your ears, it was even harder.
I see why he likes you.
»»———  ———««
Billy was having the absolute time of his fucking life, and that annoyed you to your wits end. There wasn’t a single person in attendance at the gala he didn’t know, or didn’t seem to want to kiss his ass, and since you had promised not to cause any trouble, you weren’t to leave his side at all. Which meant you had to wait for him to finally shut the fuck up whenever you were ready for another trip to the open bar. 
A tiny piece of you hated to admit that having Billy as your escort wasn’t all bad. He’d picked you up in a Rolls Royce and practically undressed you with his eyes, keeping his compliments professional but not bothering to hide the hunger in his voice. While it stroked your ego the way he kept eyeing you in your dress, you quickly remembered that Billy Russo hit on anything with tits and a heartbeat. It did make you breathe a little easier that he was such an important person though, hoping that meant no one would try anything with you while you were in his company, and that the night wouldn’t end in fireworks. 
Sipping at your third glass of red wine, you watched as socialites and powerful political figures alike mingled in their fanciest outfits. An hour into the event you’d convinced Billy to let you sit at a table in his direct line of sight, growing bored of following him around like a shadow as he networked. Lightly trailing your index finger up and down the stem of your wine glass, your mind once again drifted to Frank. He wouldn’t have let you sit at a table all alone. He’d be the one following you around. 
You wondered if he’d like your dress. It was a simple emerald green satin gown with a low cut back and a deep v line that stopped at your sternum. You’d originally picked it out with him in mind, wondering if the way it hugged your body and showed off your figure would finally get your resigned bodyguard’s attention. A dry laugh left your lips at the thought of him, knowing he realistically would’ve just grunted in response when you asked if he liked it, looking anywhere but at you as he scanned the room like a guard dog. 
You missed Frank. You wondered if you would’ve gotten him to joke with you again if he had come tonight. You thought about picking out pretentious victims from the crowd with him, making up stories about who they were, misreading their lips on purpose knowing what they were actually talking about was far more ridiculous than anything the two of you could come up with. You wondered if he would’ve danced with you if you asked. You wondered if he would’ve asked.
You wondered where he was.
You wondered if he was with his wife. 
Swallowing the rest of the bitter burgundy contents in your glass, you glanced up when Billy’s tall figure suddenly appeared in front of you. He eyed your empty glass, flickering his eyes to yours with a playful arch of one of his dark brows.
“You gonna pace yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. You’re lucky I’m not drinking tequila.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Rolling your eyes, you leaned back into your chair and smoothed your dress out, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. Billy unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down beside you, turning his body towards you slightly.
“You know, I’ve never seen someone look so unhappy at a party.”
“I’m not unhappy.”
“You’re not havin’ a good time. What, I’m not good enough company for you?”
“How would I know? You’ve spent the whole night being the life of the party instead of my security escort.”
Billy stiffened slightly beside you, causing you to let out a deep exhale as you turned your head to look at him with an apologetic expression.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. You weren’t even supposed to be babysitting me tonight. You should be having a good time for having to put up with my shit.”
Billy placed his hand on your wrist, causing you to face him again as he looked at you completely void of his usual playful charm.
“Hey, I’m not babysittin’ you. I’m here to look after you. I know Frank can be a bit too hands on, so I was givin’ you your space. Didn’t want you to feel suffocated, that’s all. But if I’m bein’ too hands off, I can change that. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”
The sincerity in Billy’s voice caught you off guard, and it made you feel guilty. He didn’t hardly know you, and he certainly didn’t owe you anything. He was doing all of this because it was his job, and as a favor to Frank. Glancing around at all the people in attendance, you nibbled slightly at the inside of your cheek before looking back at Billy.
“Did…did he tell you about that night in the bar?”
Billy sat up a little straighter as his lips pressed into a set line, giving a slight nod of his head in your direction.
“He did.”
“That was my fault. I fucked up. And all I’ve been able to think about since…is how any one of those guys could’ve been one of them, and that would’ve been it. I haven’t felt comfortable in a crowd since. Shit…I haven’t felt comfortable since I got that first death threat. But I wasn’t really…scared until that night. I don’t know what would’ve happened if-”
Letting out a shaky breath, you averted your gaze down to your lap, brushing your hair away from your face as you held onto the back of your own neck in an attempt to self soothe. You weren’t sure why you were telling Billy all of this. You weren’t sure why you were feeling so vulnerable and emotional. But you were suddenly feeling grateful for his presence as he took your hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Hey, nothin’ is gonna happen to you tonight. I promise. If you want me to stay with you, I will. I’ll go where you go. You want me to fuck off, I will. You just let me know what you need. You wanna leave?”
“No…no I didn’t…nearly have a breakdown in my bathroom because my hair wouldn’t cooperate just to leave so soon.”
The edge of Billy’s mouth curved upwards into a smirk, nodding slowly as he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his own hair to push it back into place.
“I know the feelin’.”
Rolling your eyes, you let out a soft laugh as you stared at him incredulously.
“Oh please. Like Billy Russo ever has a bad hair day.”
“Hey, you see the finished product, not the bloodbath it took to get there.”
Billy abruptly craned his neck to look past you, furrowing his dark brows as he nodded sharply at someone before glancing down at you with a softer expression.
“You excuse me for a sec? I’ll be right back, I promise.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna go find the bathroom anyway.”
Billy paused in the middle of standing up, glancing between you and the hallway that led to where the bathrooms were, lifting his brows up slightly as he looked at you again.
“I can wait for you if-”
“No, it’s alright. Besides, I know you got eyes all over this place.”
Looking up at him with a soft smile on your lips, you watched as Billy’s lips pulled into a wide grin before he winked.
“Goddamn right I do.”
Never in a million years did you think you would be baring your soul to Billy Russo, or that confessing your fears to him would make you feel lighter, but surprisingly it did. Perhaps you had been just as wrong about him as you had been about Frank. 
For the first time all evening, you felt like you could actually breathe. Billy’s words had a calming effect on you, and you didn’t feel anxious anymore as you walked alone towards the bathrooms. The long hallway was surprisingly empty and seemed to go on forever. You paused as you noticed a set of french doors at the end of the hall that were slightly opened, revealing a balcony of some kind. You walked right past the bathrooms as your inquisitiveness got the better of you.
“Where you think you’re goin’?”
Instantly freezing in place, a surprised gasp flew past your lips when a familiar deep gruff voice cut through the sound of your heels clacking along the empty tiled hallway.
You knew that voice.
Frank.
Quickly spinning around, your eyes widened considerably as you took in the sight in front of you; Frank Castle in a sleek all black suit. 
He was the most cleaned up you had ever seen him. Frank had been growing his hair out lately, enough for you to notice it had a bit of a curly texture to it, but it looked like he had gotten it trimmed recently, and it was pushed back into a neat style. There weren’t any bruises or cuts littering his face, and it looked like he had just shaved since his usual five o’clock shadow was gone. The suit somehow made him look even bigger. His shoulders looked immensely broader in the jacket, and the dark material clung to his bulging arms and thick thighs as if it had been tailored to fit him perfectly. 
The thought briefly crossed your mind that it probably had been if it had been provided by Billy for the event. 
Thank you Billy Russo.
You were all of a sudden painfully aware that Frank had been staring at you silently, essentially watching you ogle at him as he waited for your answer. His features were set in an indifferent expression that had a hint of irritation lingering beneath, one you had gotten all too familiar with, and it caused a flush of scarlet to coat your cheeks as you parted your lips to speak and tried to remember how.
“I…just…was curious. About what’s out there. I saw the door was open…and…what-what are you doing here?”
“Russo’s fuckin’ job apparently.”
Blinking a few times, you were stunned silent by the anger that bit through Frank’s words, noticing the ember of vexation that burned in his deep espresso eyes. Your brain was still trying to process the sight of him in a suit, and you struggled to figure out what he seemed to be pissed off about until Billy’s name clicked it all into place.
“Don’t be mad at him. I told him I was just going to the bathroom and coming right back. That’s…my fault. I got sidetracked.”
“Didn’t realize you two were so close.”
A muscle feathered in Frank’s jaw as his coarse voice spit those words into your ear, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall and lightly shrugged your shoulders, averting your gaze to the fancy tiled floor.
“I wouldn’t say that. I think tonight is the most I’ve ever talked to him.”
“Seemed pretty close when you were holdin’ his hand.”
Flickering your eyes up to meet Frank’s, your lips parted in shock. 
How long had he been here?
You furrowed your brows slightly as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. A look of realization spread over your face when it dawned on you that Billy had held your hand at the table earlier when you had opened up about the night at the bar with Frank and your current apprehensions about crowds.
Why did he sound so pissed off about that?
Shaking your head slowly, you tucked some of your hair behind your ear as you stared down at the floor once again, unable to meet his fiery disappointed gaze.
“That wasn’t…he was just being nice. I was giving him shit about spending more time flaunting himself than looking after me. It’s…been a long week and I wasn’t…I was feeling uneasy about being here tonight.”
In a flash Frank was in front of you, his large hand lightly gripping onto your chin to force you to look up at him as his eyes frantically searched over your form.
“Why? Somethin’ happen?”
The way Frank could switch from a broody, intimidating man that could snap someone in half with his bare hands to a gentler version of himself that spoke to you and touched you as if you were made of glass in less than a millisecond nearly gave you whiplash and always left you in a daze. You stared up into his concerned eyes almost in a trance, lightly wrapping your fingers around his wrist as you let out a breath.
“No. Nothing happened, it's just…since the bar…I’ve just…been kinda freaked out. I’ve never really liked crowds, but now they make me even more nervous. It’s…it’s my fault. I did all this to myself.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”
“I put myself in danger. When I wrote those articles…when I said what I did to him…that night at the bar…I just…have a really awful habit of putting myself in bad situations, apparently.”
Frank’s lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something, but you were caught on the way his features had softened substantially as he stared down at you. There was an emotion lingering in his eyes that looked like pity, or maybe remorse, but you couldn’t make it out. It was always so hard to read him.
“Oh, shit.”
Frank instantly turned his head in the direction of Billy’s voice, dropping his hand from your face and standing up a little straighter as his expression of annoyance from earlier returned full force.
“You wanna tell me why she’s alone?”
“She was just goin’ to the bathroom, Frankie. Relax. I got four guys watchin’ cameras, and twelve posted around the whole place.”
“I asked you for one thing, Bill. One goddamn thing.”
“Frank-”
“I asked you to watch her, personally. That means watch her. Not parade yourself around like fuckin’ royalty while she sits by herself at a fuckin’ table and wanders around the goddamn place alone.”
Billy instantly pressed his lips into a hard line, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at Frank’s irritable form. Frank looked absolutely pissed off as he glared back at Billy, and for whatever reason, you felt the need to come to Billy’s defense. Moving to position yourself between the two men, you placed your hand on Frank’s chest to get his attention.
“I asked him to do that, Frank. I didn’t feel like mingling with anyone. We thought it was a smart idea if Billy looked like a regular attendee instead of a bodyguard in case anyone tried anything, and I really didn’t want the extra attention. He made sure I was where he could see me at all times. Frank, he’s been coming by my office everyday to check on me while you were gone. Please don’t be upset, it was my idea. I just didn’t want the headache.”
Frank clenched his jaw as he stared down at you, his dark eyes occasionally flickering over your head to meet Billy’s. Letting out a deep exhale through his nose, he nodded his head towards the other direction of the hallway.
“If you’re done fuckin’ around out here, get back inside.”
Frank’s voice was so rough as it came out, it felt as if he’d physically slapped you across the face. You did your best not to let your emotions get the best of you, quickly dropping your hand from Frank’s chest as if it had burned you. Giving a light submissive nod, you swiftly turned on your heel to walk back towards the party. Billy eyed you with pity as you walked past him, and you promptly dropped your gaze, not wanting him to see the hurt that threatened to slip past your waterline. 
Bypassing the table that you had been sitting at, you made a beeline for the open bar, tucking yourself away at the furthest corner as you ordered your fourth glass of red wine of the night. The bitter taste on your tongue was nothing compared to the bitter resentment you felt towards Frank right now. He had been so hot and cold with you lately, it was driving you mad. You could never tell where you stood with him. You had never wanted so badly to look into another person’s mind to figure out what they were thinking or feeling. Frank was a brick wall when he wanted to be, and you weren’t sure if you had the patience or the strength to try to break through. 
Ten minutes later, you felt Frank’s presence beside you before you saw him out of the corner of your eye. The scent of his cologne was more intoxicating than anything they were serving tonight, and you resisted every urge to move closer to the source. 
“Might wanna consider slowin’ down. That’s your fourth one.”
So he had been here all night.
You weren’t in the mood to argue with him, so you simply slid the glass over on the bar towards him and turned around to walk back to the table. Frank caught your wrist to halt your movements, and you looked up at him with furrowed brows. His lips were downturned into a frown that tugged at your heartstrings, and the lighting above the bar cast a spotlight on the guilt pooling in his eyes.
“I didn’t say stop, just…be careful. You have a hard time findin’ your limit.”
“I know where it is, Frank. I just ignore it.”
Frank’s face twisted up with an emotion you couldn’t decipher, and as you went to tug your wrist free from his grasp, his fingers tightened to hold you firmly in place.
“Hey…look, I’m uh…I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Bein’ a dick, back there. I didn’t mean to. I…just…I asked Bill for a favor-”
“Because I’m a handful.”
Frank’s dark brows knit together in the center of his forehead as he stared down at you, features drawn in confusion.
“What? No. Cause I trust him. I know what he’s capable of, and I know he’s the only other person that could protect you as good as me.”
A fresh spell of heat pooled in your lower belly at Frank’s words, and a rosy tint rose to the surface of your cheeks.
Frank hadn’t warned Billy about you. Frank only trusted Billy with you.
“Oh…I thought…maybe you…had told him I was trouble.”
Frank cocked his head to the side while he looked at you, and suddenly a faint smirk curled at the edge of his mouth as he chuckled lowly.
“Well, that you are, sweetheart. But it wasn’t that. Matter of fact, I’m kinda disappointed you didn’t give Russo a run for his money. You only like fuckin’ with me?”
Sweetheart. There it was again.
You immediately blushed realizing Frank had been onto you, trying your best to hide your grin as you feigned an expression of mock offense.
“Frank Castle, when have I ever fucked with you?”
Frank narrowed his eyes slightly in a playful glare, arching one of his dark brows in challenge as his lips spread into a devilish grin.
“You want a list?”
Granting him a roll of your eyes, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you giggled, lifting your hands up in surrender as you shrugged your shoulders.
“Okay, fine. Maybe I do. Will not confirm or deny. But, I can tell you that Billy isn’t nearly as fun to be around, and I was worried that he would have an aneurysm if I derailed even a second of his perfect life.”
“Probably, but woulda been damn funny to watch.”
These were the moments it was the hardest to be around Frank. When he did let the broody facade drop. When he smiled at you, joked with you, and acted like he genuinely cared about you and that you weren’t just some assignment. Because it made it all that much harder when he inevitably switched back into your ruminative bodyguard. 
“You look really good in a suit.”
As soon as the words flew past your lips, your heart started to beat faster. Those four glasses of wine were finally catching up to you and slowly dismantling the filter between your mouth and your brain. Frank’s grin faltered, and he looked completely taken aback by your comment. He quickly cleared his throat, lightly tugging at the tie around his neck as he timidly met your eyes.
“Uh, thanks. Gotta be honest, it’s real fuckin’ uncomfortable. Don’t know how the hell Bill wears these things all the goddamn time.”
“He can’t pull off jeans and a regular shirt like you can.”
Jesus Christ please shut the fuck up.
As the heat of embarrassment flamed in your cheeks, you swiftly turned your head to look anywhere but at Frank, trying your hardest to find a new subject of conversation.
“So-”
“You wanna dance?”
Frank looked just as surprised by his own question as you did, lifting his hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck before gesturing around to the party.
“Since we’re s’posed to be blendin’ in and all that. You don’t gotta, just thought-”
“I do.”
A timid smile spread over your lips as you looked up at Frank, swallowing thickly as you held out your hand for him to take. Glancing between your eyes and your hand, Frank gave a slight nod and grunted quietly in response before taking your hand to lead you to the dance floor. Your hand trembled when you raised it to place on Frank’s shoulder, a quiet gasp leaving your parted lips as his large hand settled on your waist. He clasped your small hand in his large one, his deep brown eyes glancing around at everyone over your head.
“Um…can you dance?”
Frank looked almost offended by your question as he looked down at you, cocking his head to the side.
“You didn’t think to ask me that before followin’ me over here?”
“Just curious.”
“What? Don’t I look like I can dance?”
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. I mean you’re so…graceful.”
“Smartass.”
A fit of giggles slipped past your lips as you momentarily leaned your forehead against Frank’s chest, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling back to peer up at him with a grin.
“Just don’t step on my toes, please. I really like these shoes. And I’m pretty sure you would break them considering you’re twice my size.”
“Just for that I’m gonna do it on purpose. See how much trouble you can cause with two broken feet.”
Your mouth immediately fell open as you stared up at Frank with wide eyes.
“Frank!”
His eyes crinkled at the sides as he bellowed with laughter, shaking his head slowly as he lightly squeezed your waist.
“Aw c’mon, you know I’m kiddin’.”
“Actually, I don’t. I think you would. And just for that, I’m requesting a new bodyguard.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Cause I said so.”
You glared up at Frank with a smug grin spreading across your lips, jutting your chin out defiantly as you shrugged.
“Not your call.”
“Actually it is. See, the guys report to me, and Bill ain’t gonna challenge me. So, as I said before, no.”
Frank tilted his head to the side as he stared down at you with the ghost of a smirk covering his lips. The look in his eyes caused a fire to erupt in your lower belly, and you rolled your eyes so that you could look away. Frank was surprisingly a great dancer, making it feel as if the two of you were floating around the dance floor together effortlessly.
“You uh…you look nice.”
Whipping your head up in Frank’s direction, you stared blankly up at him as his words translated in your ears.
“What?”
“Your dress and all. Meant to tell you earlier. You uh, look…beautiful.”
The sincerity in Frank’s voice and his gaze made your heart swell, feeling as if it had completely swollen inside your ribcage. Taking in a sharp breath, you lightly squeezed onto his shoulder to steady yourself as your voice came out quiet.
“Thank you.”
Frank grunted quietly in response with a nod of his head, averting his gaze to survey the room like it was second nature. You couldn’t stop staring at him as his words swirled around inside your head.
“You’re really good at this, you know.”
A timid smile appeared on Frank’s lips as he chuckled lowly, glancing briefly down at you.
“Was worried I’d be rusty. I ain’t danced like this in quite awhile.”
“When was the last time?”
The smile on Frank’s face was instantly torn away like a vengeful tide erasing a sandcastle. You stilled as you watched his dark eyes immediately harden, the outline of his strong jawline becoming sharper as it set roughly. The shift in the mood felt as if someone had tossed a bucket of ice cold water over you, and you fumbled to backtrack.
“Sorry, I didn’t-”
“My wedding.”
Frank didn’t meet your eyes as he spoke. The playful tone of his voice from earlier was long gone, leaving nothing but the rough gravel behind. 
“I…I’m sorry. I…it must be difficult for you. I’ve never been divorced-”
“Didn’t get divorced. She died.”
Frank’s confession knocked all the wind right out of your lungs. He said it so…casually, but with so much pain and anger layered beneath the syllables. The only reason his eyes met yours again was because he noticed you had stopped dancing. Frank’s eyes had become wild, completely blown open like a wound with shades of rage and grief. It caused a shiver to caress your spine.
“Frank-”
“Don’t.”
There was a hard edge to his voice, a warning mixed with a plea as he stared down at you. Giving a slight nod of your head, you snapped your mouth shut, unable to tear your gaze away from him. Frank stared you down silently for a moment before relinquishing his grip on your waist and dropping his hand from yours to take a step backwards.
“Bill will take you home.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Got somethin’ to finish up.”
“Right now?”
Frank’s impenetrable glare stunned you once again into submission, and you found yourself nodding again since you didn’t trust your voice. Giving you one last final look over, Frank forced his way through the crowd towards the exit, leaving you completely stunned and all alone in the middle of the dance floor.
tags: @jwjeepers @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @neverlandcity @charmedkim @stilldreaming666 @dark-academia-slut
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kangaracha · 14 days
Note
Felix + focus
(this is actually written by @keepswingin, who gained access to my blog for five minutes and decided she wanted my prompts list)
---
It's bad luck, and you know it's bad luck, but you can't stop yourself from sneaking across the hall as soon as nobody is looking. You close the door as quietly as possible behind you and turn around, fully prepared to tease your husband to be, only to find him standing before the mirror, shakily adjusting his tie.
Felix is muttering to himself as he struggles with keeping his hands steady, smoothing them down the sides of his pants, once, twice, three times, and then he catches your eye in the mirror, and he freezes, and something about it reminds you of a deer caught between bright headlights.
"Sorry," you giggle, approaching him with your heart thumping wildly in your chest because this is actually happening, and he's going to be what you wake up next to every morning, and those hands will help you cook dinner and those eyes will look at you and call you beautiful and - and you're getting carried away. "I couldn't wait." 
You reach out for his hand as soon as you're close enough, twining your fingers together. You can still feel him shake despite it, and the small smile he gives you is wobbly at the corners, and his eyes are crinkled in that anxious way that he claims he doesn't do, and you tug him closer, reaching your other hand up to curl around his cheek. 
"Hey," you whisper, his eyes catching yours. "You're okay. Everything's okay. Focus. Focus on me." You press your forehead against his and hear his chest stutter with a long exhale. "I'm right here." 
"I'm sorry," he says as soon as he's able to, blinking fast. Leave it to him to apologize over things that don't require one. "I was just - my mom left to go find something, and I was standing here alone and I just got to thinking and then I - " Another breath, this one calmer than the last. "I just don't want to mess anything up. On our day." 
"You could never ruin our day," you tell him, and then your smile grows because you can't help yourself and he knows how you are. "Even if you did, I'd still treasure it all the same." 
It does work in dragging a laugh out of him, genuine and carefree. "You're going to make me worry all over again," he throws back gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're beautiful, by the way." 
"Can you still act surprised when you see me walk out? My mom already threatened me," you ask, and then his lips pull into a smile you'll never forget as he moves closer, lips brushing lightly against your own. 
"My mom threated me too," he admits quietly, and then he's kissing you, and you can't help but wonder how any of this could ever be bad luck when it's the luckiest you've ever felt. 
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gimmethatagustd · 2 years
Note
I cannot stress this enough:
Soft sleepy sex with Hoseok, intimate and slow and maybe a bit of overstimulation... that's it- my mind can't think any further 🥥
TAKE CARE OF ME | JHS
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You'd never trade quiet, sleepless nights with your boyfriend for anything in the world, even when sometimes it feels like the world is falling apart around you.
» pairing: hoseok x reader
» genre: BTS | 18+ | established relationship | fluffy smut
» word count/date: 3k | August 2022
» warnings: cunnilingus | fingering | handjob | marking | multiple orgasms | overstimulation | unprotected vaginal sex
» notes: pls this request had me going full on raging DELULU
» masterlist 
» what was jai listening to? belong to you (ft. 6lack) - sabrina claudio
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Gentle. Always gentle. A long time ago, you used to hate being treated gently. The vulnerability that came with someone taking care of you, being soft with you, knowing every little detail about you enough to shape their world around you… it was hard. Scary. Gross, even. You wanted to be tougher than that because one day that gentleness would end and how would that leave you? 
Empty. 
That is, until you met him. 
You felt Hoseok wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest so he could tuck his face into the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled goosebumps across your shoulders and arms, but his grip kept you grounded. His hands pressed into your sides to hold you in place. Like a weighted blanket, you felt secure with him on his side behind you, the rise of his chest comforting as he breathed against your back. 
His warmth and the pattern of his breathing was almost enough to lull you back to sleep. You couldn’t tell what time it was. The storm raging outside knocked the power out just before the two of you climbed into bed, but you assumed only an hour or so had passed. 
“Hey,” Hoseok whispered in your ear. You let out a small ‘mmm’ in response and nestled backwards into his arms even more deeply. “Are you having trouble sleeping?” 
You nodded, eyes still closed. A crack of lightning briefly lit up your dark bedroom with white light bright enough to penetrate your eyelids. 
“Want me to make you some tea?” 
Forcing your eyes open, you twisted around to face him. Hoseok’s hair was messy, wavy strands flopped in every direction. You reached up to brush his bangs away from his eyes. He’d been growing out his hair and you quite liked being able to ruffle the strands around, watching them fluff up and flop to the side. Especially the hair at the back of his neck that was now longer than you’d ever seen it. You liked the way it made him look rugged and slightly unkempt; the exact opposite of your responsible, well-organized Hobi. 
At this point, you were just barely able to make out the details of his features in the dark. But you felt the way he leaned into you and you knew to meet him halfway so he could give you a light peck on the forehead. Gentle. Always gentle. 
“No, it’s okay,” you insisted. You gave him a tap on the nose. “You’re too considerate sometimes.” 
“Never.” 
“Yes you are.” 
“Only a little bit.” 
“A lotta bit.” 
A pout was his next rebuttal. You reached out to press your fingers against his lips as though you were trying to smooth them out. When you moved to pull away, Hoseok caught your hand and pressed it against his mouth again. He kissed your palm, then each fingertip. The softness of his touch sent shivers down your arm. 
“It’s because I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice tired and thick. 
Before you could respond, he cupped your face and pulled you towards him. His lips moved against yours softly, guiding you into a slow dance you’d only dance with him. A smooth hand ran down your side to stop at your hip, squeezing it lightly. Your fingers found Hoseok’s hair, tangling in the loose waves at the back of his head and tugging just enough to make him sigh against your mouth. You captured his bottom lip between your teeth when he slightly parted his lips, taking advantage of the opportunity to nibble and suck on it. 
“You’re gonna start something,” Hoseok spoke gruffly when he pulled away. You tugged at his hair again and got the quietest of moans out of him. “I’m serious.” 
Even if he hadn’t said anything, his growing erection pressed against your body said enough. 
“Maybe I want to start something.”
The room stood still, shadows from the swaying tree branches outside the only movements. Eventually, Hoseok shifted, pressing his chest against yours with enough force to roll you onto your back. Wordlessly, he shifted beneath the blankets to hover above you. His forearms rested on either side of your head while you felt him spread your legs apart with his knee. Slotting himself between your thighs, he lazily rolled his hips into yours. You whimpered from the pressure and the heat radiating off of him. Soon you felt that heat on your neck as Hoseok sucked hickeys onto you, swirling his tongue against your skin. In the past, you thought making love was boring, that you needed to be treated roughly in order for sex to be fun. You were accustomed to being used. Sex with Hoseok, though? It was heated and weightless. 
He left wet kisses along your throat while his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Well, his t-shirt, an old baggy one he never wore anymore. He cradled the back of your head as he pulled it off, careful to rest you back onto your pillow. 
“It’s so cold,” you whispered. 
“Mhm.” 
Hoseok pulled the blanket up, making himself disappear beneath it in the process. With him out of sight, you lifted up the blanket slightly to peek at him, only to drop it in favor of squeezing the bed sheets beneath you as you felt him drag your underwear down your legs. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed forward so your legs were lifted up, feet against his shoulders and pussy on display. The inability to see what he was doing under the blanket only heightened your desire and you felt your arousal drip down. 
One hand pressed hot into your hip where your thigh creased from the angle Hoseok had your legs pushed up. The other slipped between your thighs. 
“Hobiii,” you moaned, head slightly lifting off the bed when you felt his fingers swipe at your wetness gathering around your entrance. 
He coated his fingertips before sliding his fingers upwards, parting your lips until he got to your clit and began circling it. You clenched, though the way he had you folded into yourself made it difficult for you to get any friction to provide relief. Instead he kept you raised and spread open, fingers slippery and sticky. It was easy for him to slip two fingers inside of you, even easier to hit that sweet spot on your front wall to have you lifting off the bed again. The way he pumped into you was sleepy and slow, but you hadn’t expected anything faster. Hoseok shouldn’t have even been doing this; you knew how exhausted he was. He should have been sleeping. 
Instead, you felt him shift, his shoulders dropping down slightly. And then you felt the tip of his tongue flick against your clit. 
“Fuck, babyy, oh fuck.” You immediately let go of the bed sheets and slipped your arms beneath the blanket, fingers digging into Hoseok’s hair. 
“Mmhmm, uhh huhh,” Hoseok moaned into your pussy, his lips closing around your clit. He suckled it softly, applying such light pressure while his tongue licked at you that you felt like you were going to explode. 
“More, baby,” you whined. “Faster.” 
He shook his head, smearing his lips with your arousal, and you weren’t sure if that was an answer to your requests or just him enjoying his late night snack. Likely the former since he returned to gently sucking your clit and taking his sweet time pumping his fingers in and out of you. 
“Please, Hobi.” 
Begging usually got you what you wanted, especially when you used the breathy, high-pitched, pornographic whine that you knew drove him crazy. To add to your plea, you tugged a bit harder on his hair, dragging your fingers through his bangs to pull the strands out of his face. 
Suddenly, his mouth left your pussy and your next whine was that of disappointment. When his tongue returned it was to lick along your lips, and he occasionally pressed kisses everywhere but your clit. 
“It’s bedtime,” you heard him speak from the darkness. “I’m going slow to lull my baby to sleep, okay?” Then his lips were burning into you once again. 
Your build up was gradual, a growing throb as your clit became even hotter and more swollen with every lap of Hoseok’s tongue and curl of his fingers. You squirmed and arched your back beneath him, cursing him for taking his time with you even when you both knew you loved it. The fact that your sheets were already soaked through was a testament to that. Who the fuck cared if you were tired and supposed to be sleeping? Every drag of Hoseok’s hot tongue across your clit, every drip of his saliva coating your pussy had him practically exorcizing your soul from your body. 
But when Hoseok unexpectedly slipped a third finger inside of you and sucked your clit with a tiny bit more force, he finally got you unraveling in a flash of white light that you weren’t sure was you cumming or the lightning outside. 
Your legs twitched uncontrollably where they’d flopped over Hoseok’s shoulders and down his back. Exhaustion made them heavy, and you struggled to move them while Hoseok wouldn’t let go of you. He’d removed his fingers from you and had both his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread open as he continued sucking your clit. 
“Hobi, oh my god, please, I came already,” you whimpered, pulling his hair to get his attention. He moaned a response into your skin and began lapping against you, flicking your clit from side to side. Your body jerked forward, but Hoseok’s grip on your thighs kept you pushed down. 
“Jung Hoseok.” 
Rather than sound threatening, your voice cracked and Hoseok had the audacity to laugh. 
Tears welled up in your eyes and your body jerked again when you felt his teeth gently graze the top of your clit. A guttural moan was torn from your throat as you came a second time, squeezing Hoseok’s hair so tightly you were sure you’d ripped a few strands out accidentally. 
Finally, finally, Hoseok emerged from beneath the blanket. He crawled up to hover over you once again, chest heaving and arms caging you in. 
“It was hard to breathe under there,” he laughed again. 
You opened your mouth to speak but all you could do was whimper once again. 
“What was that, baby?” Hoseok drawled. He dipped his head down to nip at your earlobe and your eyes fluttered. 
“Felt good,” you finally found your voice. 
“Better than tea?” 
“Much better.” 
Hoseok chuckled, sleepy eyes meeting yours through his bangs that fell forward, slightly obscuring his face. The storm outside wasn’t raging as loudly against the windows, but the occasional lightning bolt still lit up your bedroom, allowing you to see more flickers of his face. You brought your fingers to his throat, running them along his Adam’s apple until you reached the dip where his collarbones met, before venturing down his bare chest. When your fingers dragged down his abdomen, you felt Hoseok suck in his stomach and heard him hiss lightly. 
“What about you?” you whispered. You reached the waistband of his briefs, but you didn’t move any lower. Still, you could feel Hoseok’s cock twitch against you. 
“I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry about me. I want you to sleep.” 
He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck for a moment before he began to pull away from you. There he was, being too considerate again. How many times had he insisted he didn’t need anything from you? You’d never met someone more selfless. It wasn’t fair. 
You quickly slipped your hand into his underwear and squeezed his cock, rolling your palm around the tip where precum already started to drip out. 
“Shit, babe…” Hoseok stayed nuzzled in the crook of your neck and bucked into your hand with languid thrusts. There wasn’t a desire to chase a high, but more so a desire to relish in the warmth of your hand, the firmness of your grip, the comforting smell of your body wash. 
“Is it embarrassing,” he took a deep breath and pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes as he thrusted again, “that I could cum right now, just from this?” 
“Maybe a little bit.” 
Your honesty and the giggle that followed brought a frown to Hoseok’s face. You had no intention of letting him cum in your hands. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smoothed out his frown when you pulled him into a kiss. Your hands traveled the lean muscles of his back, reaching down to squeeze his ass. 
“Feisty.” You felt him smirk against your lips. Hooking your fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, you pulled the clothing down his thighs and waited for him to sit back to completely remove them. 
“Come up here,” you ordered him, but Hoseok shook his head. 
“I’m too tired to fuck your mouth. Let me put my energy into fucking you the right way.” 
You felt a shiver down your spine and nodded silently as you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. 
Hoseok ran his hands down your legs until he could reach around to the back of your thighs. Pushing them up, he folded you nearly in half as he had when he ate you out, keeping you slightly elevated and wide open for him. Since his hands were occupied, you reached between your bodies to guide him. Hoseok’s breath hitched when you lined his cock up with your entrance. 
He sunk into you slowly, taking his time slipping inch by inch to allow you to adjust and to savor the high that came with that initial thrust. Your mind was still foggy from two orgasms and a lack of sleep, so you appreciated his thoughtfulness as he eased into you. 
“Mmmm,” he sighed once he bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other. Leaning forward slightly, Hoseok rested both of your legs on his shoulders. 
“Yeah baby?” Your voice trembled as you watched him brush his lips along your calf, planting a soft kiss at your ankle. His hands fell to your waist to hold your hips down as he drew back. He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional. His strokes were slow, but long and deep. 
“You know you leave me speechless,” Hoseok groaned, pushing a bit deeper in his next thrust. Your whimpers got louder when you felt him brush your cervix, his fingers pushing you hard into the bed. 
Hoseok was definitely the biggest you’d ever been with, but even more importantly, he was the most fluid in his movements. He knew how to move his body with flexibility and grace, which for you was the most satisfying aspect of sleeping with him. You never had to put in work to get yourself off; every roll of Hoseok’s hips made his cock glide against your g-spot and his pelvis stimulate your clit. You weren’t an object for Hoseok to use to get off. No, Hoseok put your pleasure in the center of everything he did. 
Although sometimes that wasn’t necessary. He brought his fingers to your clit, but you swatted him away. 
“I’m tapped out,” you sighed. You really didn’t need him to try to make you cum three times. What was this, porn?? Two orgasms was plenty. 
“Are you really?” he smiled, a hand creeping back towards your clit. You swatted at him again. “Alright, alright. I’ll cum without you like an asshole.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” You clenched your muscles around his cock and Hoseok let out a low moan. If he was ready to bust from a simple handjob, you were sure he was having to work hard to keep it together now that he was inside you. 
“Do that again for me, baby,” he said in a shaky breath that confirmed your suspicions. Another moan rumbled from him when you did as you were told, tightening around him and pressing your thighs against his abdomen. “Fuck, fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth. 
You loved to watch Hoseok fall apart. The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth when he bit down on the muscle as he was concentrating on each gentle snap of his hips against yours. His strong hands squeezed your waist to ground himself once his thrusts became a bit erratic. His messy hair fell into his eyes when he leaned his head slightly forward to watch your bodies collide. 
“Hobi,” you moaned, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. “Cum for me, baby. You’ve been so good for me.” 
“You,” he took a deep breath, “You are so fucking sexy.” 
Your legs fell down to wrap around Hoseok’s waist as he leaned into your kiss. One hand stayed at your waist while another slid down to grip your thigh against his hip as Hoseok picked up his pace. His breathing came out ragged against your cheek, his lips sucking little kisses along your jaw until he was back to marking up your neck. 
He squeezed you hard when he came, whimpering and moaning your name into your neck like the sweetest lullaby. When he slowly eased his body on top of yours you welcomed the pressure of his weight, even though it was difficult to breathe. 
“Better than tea?” 
Hoseok snorted, but you saw his eyes sparkle in the moonlight as he gently pulled out of you and found his spot beside you once again. “Much better.” 
His long arms dragged you backwards so you were pressed against each other with chests still heaving. 
“Thank you,” you said after a moment. You were beginning to crash from your orgasmic high. Darkness eased your eyelids lower and lower until you couldn’t bear to open them again. 
“You know I’ll always take care of you.” Hoseok nuzzled your neck and squeezed you against his chest. “I hope you sleep well, baby.” 
You murmured a “you, too” and fell asleep to the steady pattern of Hoseok’s breathing and the knowledge that there was no one else who could care for you the way he did.
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do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work
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its-the-pilot · 6 months
Text
Waves | 7 | Rooster x Reader
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |
Summary: Bradley spends the night at your place. (Mav's niece!reader)
Warnings: swearing, adult banter
Length: 2.5k words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Message or comment to join the taglist!
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Chapter Seven 
“Stay. Please.”
“I just got you back,” he smiled, stroking your thighs tenderly. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”
Cupping his jaw in your hands, you leaned in and kissed him deeply, your lips parting for him. His hands slid further up your thighs, gliding over your skirt to rest on your hips.
You moaned quietly as Bradley began kissing down your neck, his mustache tickling your skin. Dropping your head to his shoulder, you rocked against him hesitantly. “Oh, god… that feels good…”
His lips curled up into a grin as he continued his ministrations. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he rasped against your throat before finally pulling back to look into your eyes. He stilled your hips with a gentle squeeze when you rolled them again, causing him to groan. He was already hard and wanting, but he needed to be sure that both of you were on the same page before going further.
“Brad…” you whimpered, pupils wide and chest heaving. 
“Slow down a minute, Dimples,” he whispered, kissing your lips softly. He waited a beat while your breathing slowed back to normal, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s my girl. You okay?”
You nodded, returning his tender kiss. “I’m good… are you?” Bradley smiled and stroked your cheek. “I’m fantastic. Just checking in, you said you wanted to take things slow, and I want to respect that.”
Resting your hands on his chest, you locked eyes with him and bit your lip. “Really?” You asked, your voice quiet. “I thought you'd want--”
“I think you can tell that I want you,” he cut you off, gesturing at the erection that was obvious even through his flight suit. “But if you want slow, we'll go slow. I want us to last.”
You lowered your eyes as you spoke. “It's just… it's been a while since, you know, I've been with anyone.” Your lack of a sex life was something you hadn’t given much thought to while focusing on your career, but saying it out loud made you feel embarrassed.
He lifted your chin gently with a finger. “Hey, that's okay,” he reassured you, sensing that you were getting self conscious. “I'm not in any rush, we can take our time and learn each other again.”
The reverence in his voice threatened to bring tears to your eyes. Your previous relationship had left a lot to be desired, which was one of the reasons you had avoided them since. But with Bradley, things felt different. 
“I'd like that,” you smiled, relaxing against him. “Would I be a tease if I asked you to stay the night?”
He chuckled, kissing you again. “Not at all.” His hands on your hips helped slide you off his lap and back to the couch. “I'll need to use your shower though. I stink like jet fuel.”
“It's not so bad,” you grinned, smoothing your dress over your thighs as he stood. “But I don't know what you’ll wear after, I doubt my clothes will fit you.”
Bradley nodded toward the door. “I've got a bag in the truck for emergencies,” he explained. “Make yourself comfy, I'll be quick, promise.”
You watched him through the window as he jogged out to the Bronco parked in your driveway, returning with the bag he mentioned. He dropped a kiss to your lips when he passed the couch, flashing a smile as he closed the bathroom door behind him. 
Once you heard the water running, you stood and moved into your bedroom, changing out of your dress and into a pair of sleep shorts with a tank top. After you were dressed you started your nighttime routine while you waited for Bradley to finish in the bathroom.
“Your shower is way better than the ones we have on base,” he announced, appearing in the doorway wearing nothing but his dog tags and a fresh pair of boxer briefs, drying his hair with a towel.
You were almost done moisturizing when you looked up and your mouth instantly went dry. He had been fit when you were together in high school, being a baseball player, but the man standing in front of you now was on a completely different level. 
You managed to find your voice, though it came out as a breathless whisper. “You’ve definitely been staying in shape.”
Bradley chuckled, a bit of a cocky glint in his eye that you remembered from when you were younger. “Yeah, the Navy will do that to you.” He looked you over as he approached the bed, tossing the towel he had been using into your hamper. “You’re no slouch yourself, y’know.” His fingers gently traced your collarbone and up your neck, stopping at your jaw. “You’ve always been stunning.”
A warm blush spread across your cheeks and you bit your lip, feeling a sudden surge of shyness. The bed dipped with his weight as he sat beside you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You’re even more stunning when you blush.”
The laugh that escaped was loud, and you fell back against the mattress. “You’re too much,” you teased, pulling him down by his dog tags when he leaned over you. His lips met yours gently before he propped himself up on his elbow by your side, one hand on your belly while your fingers remained tangled in his chain.
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and when you yawned, Bradley nuzzled your ear. “Time for bed?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling softly at him. “It’s been a long day.”
He kissed you once more before standing, helping you to your feet before you both settled under the blankets on your bed. He couldn’t help but smile when you curled against his side, resting your head on his chest, the simple motion feeling familiar despite your years apart. 
“I’m really glad you’re here, B.” you whispered, nuzzling his warm skin as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. 
He responded with a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “I’m glad too, Dimples."
-------------------------
The gentle morning sun roused you from your slumber, your senses slowly awakening one by one. First was touch, feeling a solid, warm weight against your back, and a heavy arm draped over your waist. Your body tensed, confusion washing over you as your groggy mind tried to process what was happening.
“S’okay, baby,” Bradley murmured, his voice husky from sleep as he pressed a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. “‘M here.”
His words instantly relaxed you as memories of the night before flooded back, the familiarity of his voice and scent registering as ‘safe’. Turning in his arms, you gazed into his hazel eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. The light that streamed through the curtains cast a soft, golden glow on his tousled hair and warm, sleepy eyes. “It’s been a long time since we’ve woken up in each other’s arms.”
Bradley brushed his nose against yours, his mustache tickling your lip. “I know, I missed it. This feels right, though, starting the day with you.”
Nestling into his embrace, you kissed the hollow of his throat with a little moan of agreement, your fingers tracing over his dog tags. “I didn’t mean to wake you though, I forgot what a light sleeper you are.”
He grinned, his thumb tracing circles on your hip beneath the sheets. “It’s a pretty handy skill, I think. I’ll be able to keep you safe.” He paused briefly before speaking again. “You’re okay with me being here though? Seemed like I startled you.”
“I’m just… used to waking up alone,” you explained, looking down. “Took my brain a minute to remember who was here.”
There were follow-up questions he wanted to ask, but he stopped himself, not wanting to make you share something if you weren’t ready to. Instead he slipped his large hand under your shirt and ran it over your spine slowly. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore, Dimples. I’ll be here every night if you want me to be.” 
You leaned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Well, you’re here now, and we have the whole day ahead of us. What should we do?”
“Hmm…” he laid his head back against the pillows just as his stomach grumbled. “Breakfast?”
A smile crept onto your lips and your hand slid down to affectionately pat his tummy. “I make great pancakes.”
“I remember,” he said as you climbed out of the bed, his hazel eyes appreciatively roaming over your figure.
You stopped at the door, looking back over your shoulder. “You coming?”
Bradley chuckled and joined you in getting out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats from his bag before following you to the kitchen. You were already pulling ingredients from the cabinets when he caught up, leaning against the counter, content to watch you work. It felt natural, like something you had been doing together for years, and it made him wish he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever. 
“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, attempting to stay out of your way in the small space.
The sound of whisking pancake batter didn’t stop even as you looked over to him with a smile. “Coffee?” You nodded to the pot beside him. “Grounds are in the drawer behind you.”
He turned to retrieve the coffee grounds and started brewing the pot of coffee you requested. When that was done, he glanced around your living room while you focused on the food, taking in the simple decor. The house itself was an older craftsman cottage, but the interiors gave it a modern feel that was still cozy. 
The picture frames on your fireplace mantle caught his eye, and he couldn’t resist crossing the room to get a closer look. There he found your parent’s wedding photo alongside one of himself, you, Carole and Maverick in front of a decorated tree, taken the Christmas before Carole passed away. He picked it up and stared at it, his chest tightening at the memory. It was the last Christmas he could remember enjoying, choosing to forego celebrating at all after he left at 18. Both you and his mother loved Christmas, and it was too painful to celebrate without the two of you. 
“Pancakes are ready,” you called, setting the plate down on the table beside two cups of coffee. You looked over to him, the smile fading from your face when you saw what held his attention. Crossing the room, you wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your cheek to his broad shoulder from behind. “If you want me to put it away, I can,” you offered gently, aware of the pain he carried from the loss of his mother.
“No… no,” he shook his head, setting the photo back on the mantle and shifting to face you. “I’m glad you have it out, it’s a good picture.” He swallowed hard and flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s eat, I’m starved.”
You allowed him to change the subject without argument, releasing him from your hold and sitting beside him at the table. Pancakes and coffee were consumed in silence, the heaviness of the past casting a shadow over your otherwise bright morning. When you were done eating, you sat back in your chair and looked him over, your psychiatrist brain turning on inadvertently. 
“You know… I miss her too, Brad.” You tried, not taking your eyes off of him as he piled more pancakes onto his plate. 
“These pancakes are perfect. Just how I remember them,” he declared, an obvious attempt to change the subject again. When you continued watching him silently, he set his fork down and sighed, carding his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Please don’t psychoanalyze me.”
Leaning forward, you rested your elbows on the table. “We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep it all bottled up inside. Not with me.”
Bradley remained silent, opting to stand and take the empty plates to the kitchen for washing. You remained at the table for a moment with your eyes closed, hating the way he was shutting down. You understood how hard it was to talk about, you hadn’t been able to talk about your own parents’ death without breaking down until graduate school. 
As Bradley washed the dishes, you took a deep breath and decided to give him some space, not wanting to push too hard. You cleared the rest of the table and then went to take a quick shower and dress for the day. Wearing a pair of jean shorts and a UCSD tank top, you headed back out to the living room and found Bradley sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on your TV. 
“Hey, you,” he greeted, his arm lifting to draw you closer when you sat down beside him. Planting a gentle kiss on your temple, he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your hair. “I really like your shampoo.”
You smiled and relaxed against him, resting your hand on his stomach. A movie played on the TV and the two of you watched in a peaceful silence, enjoying your lazy Saturday together. When the movie finished, Bradley turned off the TV and gently squeezed you  with the arm he had wrapped around you. 
“Sorry about earlier,” he began, his voice soft. “I didn’t expect to react that way.” 
Shaking your head, you sat up to look him in the eye. “You don’t need to apologize. I was there for you before, I’ll be there for you again. I’ll always be there for you.” 
Gratitude filled Bradley’s eyes as he smiled at you. You had known each other since you were only eight years old, yet you continued to amaze him with your compassion and empathy. You were always able to see behind people’s masks, and he supposed it was one of the things that made you good at your job. 
You felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks as he held your gaze, and you finally lowered your eyes, biting your lip. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I can’t help but stare at you,” he confessed, raising a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing it. “You’re just so…”
“So…?” You prompted, leaning into his palm.
“Breathtaking. Thoughtful. You’re… perfect.”
You shyly met his eyes again, your blush deepening. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”
He chuckled and drew you closer for a soft kiss. “I mean every word,” he murmured against your lips.
A quiet moan escaped as you deepened the kiss, your neatly manicured nails dragging gently up his chest until your hand was resting over his heart. When you finally parted, you were both out of breath, foreheads pressed together. 
“Do you have plans for the weekend?” You asked, closing your eyes as your heartbeat slowed. 
Bradley shook his head. “No, not unless you count staying here with you as ‘plans’.”
You snuggled back into his arms, a content smile on your lips. “I had the same idea.”
“It’s perfect, just like you.” He turned the TV back on and settled against the couch with you in his arms, ready to embrace the weekend ahead.
Chapter Eight
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witchysquirrel · 2 months
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Epiphany
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Chapter Three
Cassian slept for four days. Madja and Ravenna worked in shifts, one of the healers at his bedside at all times. Wound care was done twice daily; they gave him fluids, kept his pain at bay. Ravenna spent a lot of time at his bedside, just watching him breathe. 
That first day when he’d finally been stable enough, she’d bathed him. It had been difficult to cut the torn leathers from his body, and she was sure she looked like an idiot trying to move his dead weight by herself. Nonetheless, Ravenna tossed the ruined leathers aside and went to work. It took her two hours and several buckets of soapy water to fully scrub away all of the blood and dirt and sludge that coated every inch of Cassian’s body, chipping away at it until she could see his skin again. And then a second scrub to actually clean. When she was done, she washed his hair, separating dried blood and mud from the dark strands until she could comb it smooth.
Ravenna put a fresh pair of sweatpants on him, deciding her work was done, as she was entirely sweating by the time she had finished this endeavor. Ravenna looked down at him, resting so peacefully beneath battered wings, the angles of his face illuminated in the lamp light. Ravenna thought Cassian was objectively beautiful, she knew everyone thought he was. He was an infamous ladies man that had had a handful of great loves, but even more sex with strangers. 
Cassian had been known to flirt with Ravenna if he got a little too drunk, only when he wasn’t taking a lover, but Ravenna knew that was just his personality. She made sure she never confused his flirting for something more, or the way she adored him for anything more than friendship. Ravenna tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, admiring his sleeping form once more, before deciding to head in for the night. Madja would be here in an hour and he would still be sleeping by then.
She covered him gently with the blanket, and took herself back to her room. As she turned the corner, ready to collapse into bed, she collided with something black and solid. 
“Oh, my bad,” Ravenna muttered, taking a step back.
“It’s okay, I was walking too fast,” Azriel replied, hardly meeting her eyes. He paused for a moment, but still didn’t look at her when he said, “Do you think he will fly again?”
Ravenna let out a small breath. “I can’t make promises,” she said, pausing. “Mostly because I don’t know.”
The silence threatened to eat her alive.  “But you’ll be here the whole time?” Azriel looked at her finally, their brown eyes meeting. She nodded. He dipped his chin, in acknowledgement and goodbye, and then he was gone. She exhaled through her nose, considering what Azriel had said - that he was glad she would be here with Cassian - and decided it was a very high compliment. 
-
Ravenna awoke early on the fifth day that Cassian had been asleep. She’d fallen asleep early the night before, still wrapped in a bath towel on top of the comforter — too tired to tuck herself into bed. She rose, putting on the plain black ankle length dress and hooded cloak that hung neatly in the wardrobe waiting for her. Although she hadn’t come here with any clothes, the wardrobe always had what she needed. Ravenna tied the tan corset from an adjacent drawer around her waist, tied her still-damp hair into a loose low ponytail, and pulled on her boots. Remnants of the blood and gore she’d trudged through last week remained, and she waved her hand, the dirt disappearing on a draft of wind. 
She stopped in the dining room for a quick breakfast, stopping for a slice of toast and a banana. It was still dark out, the sun only just considering rising from beyond the mountains. Ravenna barely heard Azriel as he entered the room, grabbing a banana of his own from the fruit bowl on the counter. 
“I spent the night watching him,” Azriel started. “He slept well.” 
She gave him a small smile. “I’m glad. I’m hoping to wake him up today, I’m sure he’ll want to see you once that happens.” Azriel nodded once, then stalked out of the room in silence. 
Ravenna made her way to the makeshift infirmary, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind her. She did her assessments, surveying the wounds, listening to the thud of Cassian’s heart in his chest and the heave of his lungs as he slept. Although he was still a huge mass of muscle lying there, he looked fragile, which was not a word she’d ever used to describe him. When she finished with her first tasks, she began removing the dressings from Cassian’s wings, revealing the wounds beneath. They had all healed considerably since Ravenna had first laid eyes on them, she noted as she cleansed the wound beds. She paused, laying a magical hand over them in the hopes of further healing, then began to redress them. 
When she was finished with Cassian’s wound care, Ravenna made for the head of his bed. He looked so peaceful, resting with his eyes shut gently. She almost didn’t want to disturb him at all, let him sleep for another day. She puttered for a few minutes, and then returned, pressing a hand to his forehead once again. The healer closed her eyes, reaching again for that tether to his consciousness in her mind. She tugged at the line when she saw it, pulling Cassian to the surface.
-
Epiphany Masterlist
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xxcatzladyxx · 2 months
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Hawks x Reader | Lemon +18
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Hello everyone! ❤️ I'm back with a small lemon with Hawks! Enjoy it! If you have any questions, write to me! Have a good read! Reader has blue wings...
Your Wolfi 🐺
~~~
The hours pass and pass. It's the middle of the night and you're lying alone in bed. You turn from one side to the other; throw the covers off you to throw them back over you. You wait for your husband to come home. You know that having a hero for a husband is anything but easy and you're actually coping well. But today is another day when you miss him terribly and wish he had a normal job. Of course, you would never blame him for that. He loves his job more than anything and it's a part of him. You don't know him any differently. Nevertheless, you wish that you could now lie in his arms and sleep peacefully.
You turn onto your stomach and look at the alarm clock on a side table next to the bed. 11.01 pm. You sigh and close your eyes again. You count sheep in your mind. Your eyelids get heavier and heavier until you enter the land of dreams.
A door quietly closes and footsteps approach the room where you are sleeping. The door is carefully opened and the view of you is revealed. Brown eyes with a tinge of gold look right at you. Your blue wings have nestled around you like a second blanket to your usual one and seem to serve as protection in your sleep. Your hair is scattered wildly on the pillow. One strand hangs directly in your face and blocks your view of it. One hand takes the disturbing strand and gently tucks it behind your ear. The hand moves on to your cheek and strokes it lovingly. A light kiss on your forehead follows.
"I'm home again, baby bird!" a voice whispers.
The covers are lifted and a body lies down in bed with you. Two arms wrap around your hips and you toss against the other body. You are so deep asleep that you don't notice anything, but you really don't notice anything at all. A warm hand wanders under your shirt, which is far too big and you always wear when you go to sleep, and goes purposefully between your legs. You heave a sigh of relief. No sign of waking up. Your legs are spread a little and the hand touches you in your most sensitive spot. Out of reflex, you squeeze your legs together and lock the hand there. A soft moan escapes your lips. The hand finds a way to continue touching you there and does so. Again and again and again. In the same place.
"Someone must have missed me a lot." The hand spreads your legs apart again and a finger disappears inside you. You wince noticeably and groan loudly. Still, no sign of you waking up.
"I missed you too, baby bird." The body behind you presses harder against you and if you had been awake, you would have felt a distinct bump on your backside.
The finger inside you is joined by another and another. They move out of you to thrust into you again. They are preparing you for another act. An act that will definitely wake you up. The hand moves away from you again.
Your husband carefully plucks a red feather from his wings, which is loose anyway. A mischievous grin graces his lips. He takes the feather to your wet center and strokes it gingerly.
"Keigo...!" you moan, clawing your hands into the sheets.
"Yes, baby bird?" he continues with his sweet torture. "Keigo...!" your legs start to twitch. A sign that you're about to come. All at once you are wide awake. You immediately fall around Hawks' neck and cover his whole face with kisses.
"Actually, I was expecting a different reaction, but that's fine by me," he grins at you and seals your lips with a fiery French kiss. You reciprocate, of course. During the kiss, you are pressed back into the mattress. Hawks over you. As you let your hands dance over his body, you notice that he's not wearing any clothes. Speaking of clothes, with a smooth movement of his hand, your shirt is pulled over your head and thrown carelessly into a corner. Now you're both naked.
"Take me at last, Keigo!" you whine. He laughs in response. "Is someone impatient?" he asks cheekily and gets a dirty look from you. "I just missed you..." you pout to yourself.
"I missed you too, baby bird," he purrs in your ear. You puff out your cheeks in mock offense. "I don't notice that at all..." you continue to pout. "Oh no? And what did I do while you were still asleep, baby bird?" The blonde's grin widens. "I don't know, I was still asleep then..."
"Oh, you don't know? Maybe that will help you...", the feather is used again. You can't suppress a groan. "Don't tease me and just take me...please...I'm begging you..."
"That's music to my ears." Hawks grabs you by the hips and without hesitation he penetrates you. Everything around you blurs. You only notice the wonderful feeling inside you.
"That feels so good, Keigo! You feel so good!" you moan, clawing into your husband's shoulders. "I can only return the compliment, baby bird!" moans Hawks too, nibbling on your neck to mark you there.
You both have pretty good stamina. It goes on like this all night until the first rays of sunlight appear in the sky. You moan incessantly and your skin is covered in sweat. Hawks takes you as fast as he can. You feel a knot in your stomach that becomes more and more pronounced.
"Keigo...Keigo...I'm cumming..."
"Cum for me, baby bird!" you clutch your shoulders harder, even drawing a little blood. You tighten around Hawks and come. Your legs are shaking badly.
"I'm cuming too, baby bird! Where do you want my white gold?"
"Inside me, Keigo, come inside me!" after a few thrusts, he does as you told him. You feel his liquid inside you. He stays inside you and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a hug and kisses you on the head.
"I love you, baby bird!"
"I love you too, Keigo!"
His red wings wrap around you both. Your blue ones folded under you. You fall asleep arm in arm. You finally have your husband with you. Just as you wished a few hours ago.
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indouloureux · 2 years
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Hi! I don't know how to request this, but maybe you have an idea? I love the song sweater weather and the vibe it gives? (Sounds weird?) And I thought of maybe a Joseph x reader with the vibe of that song? Or that the songs plays and they dance or something like that? I can't really put this properly into words, so if this is confusing, please just delete this!
Thank you for reader and have a good day ahead! 🖤
you don't know how much i love sweater weather. i had to go into a deeper dive into the meaning of the song to get its metaphorical message so i hope you love this! ❤️
— based on the first verse of sweater weather (where he doesn't like it, but stays because he loves you)
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the sand is smooth against your toes, feet conquered by the yellow loose granular. you feel shells touch your skin as your limbs disappear beneath, only to be washed away by the shore that ravages.
you tug on the sleeves of your sweater — his sweater — to bring some warmth seeing as the cold air continues to gnaw on your exposed legs, high waisted shorts hidden by the large size of his sweater; the faint scent of expensive cologne and cigarettes amalgamating with bergamot.
"do you know that i hate the beach?"
his voice breaks the calm swishing of the ocean waves. albeit it adds more tranquility from his dulcet cadence. you turn to see him, a different sweater this time, hands occupied by a cup of tea. joseph's eyes burnish into an umber glow, glossed by the golden sun, twinkling from the oscillation of the sea.
"then why are you here?" you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, though futile as the wind blows it back to your face again. joseph half-grins, watching the steam pour out of his bland mug.
"because you're here. and you love the beach," he takes a careful sip, feared from the possible scorching of the hot tea. you watch the way his lips pucker on the mug, liquid slipping through until he's satisfied. he swallows, gently, before he's looking back at you like you're the sun that's setting.
"you don't have to like it,"
"i know. but i'll stay in here for you," you silently approach him, hands hovering over the mug but you look at him with permission. he nods, carefully resettling it on your hands. "you know i'd do anything to see you happy."
as you carefully hold the mug with your hands covered by the large sleeves of his sweater, joseph puts his own hands on top of yours, cottons linked but never the hot flesh of your skins. he stares at you, finds your beauty in all its rare grandeur; such marvel that keeps his tempestuous feet on this renown sand.
"is this about last night?" you whisper before you take a delicate sip, his hands dropping to his front where he tugs and prods at the small holes on his sleeves.
"relationships are convoluting! i don't want to be in them..."
joseph licks his lips. "you didn't let me finish my sentence."
"then what, jo?" your hands are enveloped by his again, keeping his mug in place in your hands. you hear him swallow, and then he looks down to the tea that's almost gone.
"i was going to say that i hated them but i'd be in one just for you," his thumb pokes out his sleeve, pushing beneath the cotton of your sleeve to graze your fingers. "i'm only ever a man, love. i used to want the world in my hands but now all i want is yours to hold."
you decide to look up at him then to search for any insincerity, doubtful by his cruel words from last night. but now they're real, genuine, in every utterance. especially when he looks at you now like you're the only thing in his world that he cares about.
"i love you," he says. "i love you. and i'm sorry if i hurt you last night. i was just too much of a coward. all i want...is to be with you."
you chuckle, letting his hands hold you beneath your sleeves while simultaneously trying not to drop his mug. hot flesh against each other, just the two of you in this isolated beach, holding hands beneath ruined sweaters and offering each other fucked up hearts.
"i love you too," you smile at him. and this time, he believes it.
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reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3
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minsyal · 1 year
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Long May He Reign, Pt. III
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Tywin x Targaryen!Reader
Summary: The Hand of the King spends years vying for the princess's affections. Only fate would have it that the two cannot be. As Aerys Targaryen II slowly descends into madness, can their love survive his instability and the war to come?
Warnings: General Game of Thrones violence later on, death and stuff, shitty characterizations, eh age differences, Ser Barristan being a lovely darling ✨
Masterlist
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“He may enter.”
With granted permission the guard swung the door open to reveal Tywin dressed in a tunic of red and black. The leather was spotted with holes that revealed more fabric beneath holding a slick sheen to its texture. His hair was combed back without a single strand falling loose to frame his aristocratic physique. Upon spotting the princess in her chosen attire, he did not shroud the look of pride from his profile.
“The dress is fitting.” He tipped his head in an approving fashion, giving her a knowing look at her second choice of gowns. The alluring gaze he held on the definitions of her figure instinctively had her smoothing down the bodice once more. “Lannister red is quite flattering. Though, I am in disbelief that anything would look otherwise.”
An attractive rose tinged at the bridge of her nose and to the heights of her cheekbones as his words resonated in her system like the bass of a song. She brought a delicate finger up to tuck a loose strand of porcelain hair behind her flushing ear and peered at him through the curtains of her eyelashes. “Your words are most appreciated, my lord.” Playing with her fingers in front of her body she hesitated to speak in the presence of her guard, but did so anyway. “You look rather dashing yourself. After all, Lannister red suits a Lannister best.”
He allowed his eyes to linger a moment longer. Then, casting her an astute expression, Tywin nodded and outstretched his arm for her to take. “Come. The tournament waits.”
Made of a white-painted wood and designed to intricately display the Lannister wealth, the carriage waited for its passengers at the base of the Rock. For anyone else it would be vastly improper to sit concealed within the hiding walls of the cart, but as the Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock nobody would dare question his choices. That is, nobody except for the king.
Jostling back and forth as the wheels started turning, the two settled into their respective spots sitting opposite one another. Despite having the space for two more, they chose to sit knee-to-knee. Brushing against each other on occasion was no mistake as the princess situated herself on the edge of her cushion. They had all the secrecy they could ever hope for in such a public environment. Though the population looked on, none could truly tell what was happening within.
After entering the city on horseback, open for the world to see, it felt strange venturing out concealed by the plush walls of the cart. When they arrived, she was tired and not meant for any sort of outing. Her hair had been ditsy, unbraided and flying in all directions. She looked more like a land worker than a royal. Now she was bathed and fashioned in a more suiting way to uphold her title.
Lannisport’s energy was extravagant, too. The unbridled curiosity that bled from the villager’s prying eyes had melted away into a subdued and exotic buzz of anticipation and excitement for the day’s events. Reaching out into the air, the princess was sure she could feel it thick with suspense.
Leaning forward, she let herself fall into a trance as she watched the city pass by. As they ventured further into the heart of Lannisport, the smells and sounds marinated and held more depth. “I anticipate that Ser Arthur will be besting my brother in the joust today.” She commented offhandedly, folding her arms at her stomach as she turned her neck to look upward to an inquisitive Tywin.
A curious hum bombinated from his lips. Squared shoulders pressed into his backrest, heightening his stance even in his seated position. One could find it intimidating, but she was more so amused by his always-perfect posture. Rather than move his head to show he was granting her his full attention, his pose remained solid, but this attention was there nonetheless. “Why is that? Prince Rhaegar has garnished a reputation when it comes to his performance in jousts.”
An ardent laugh brought his chin tucking downward. “He wins because people fear that knocking a prince from his horse will put an end to their family line.” She nudged her knees against his. “Also, I asked Ser Arthur to win.”
“Is there a reason?”
Sitting to her full height, which was still considerably shorter than the towering man before her, she flitted with the draping of her skirts. “Rhaegar was not exaggerating when he said that my journey was full of complaints.”
“You are a princess.” Tywin argued in his remarkably calm tone. “Traveling by horseback is hardly an appropriate means.”
“And how do you presume I’ll return to King’s Landing, my lord? Shall I walk so as to not dishonor myself by riding?”
“I’ll be returning to court at the conclusion of the tournament.” Using the muscles in his stomach, he pushed himself from the backrest to lean closer to the princess. “There is an abundance of space in the Lannister wheelhouse.”
Gasping dramatically, she placed a hand over the exposed skin of her chest. “What will my father think, Lord Tywin?” She shook her head. “He already believes me to be conspiring against him. Should I be seen in your private quarters, I think that he will think you are a conspirator, too.” Her coy demeanor evanesced as she spoke the words out. They struck her harder than she expected, falling from the cliff tops of her mind and tumbling downward like the disturbed snow of an avalanche. Where a soft smile had once been planted, a strange intensity grew. “My father thinks that I am conspiring against him.” She admitted with slumping shoulders. “You must be aware of that saying regarding the Targaryens. A coin is to choose our fates. Madness or greatness. We are only afforded the two, there is no gray water to wade in.”
“The saying is commonspeak tripe.” Tywin cut her thought from the root. “It was a coping mechanism created to explain the complicated to the simple.”
“Still.” Her fingers rubbed at the smooth fabric that laid upon her legs. “I have done nothing warranted of greatness in my time, nor am I set for it. Does that mean that I am destined for the opposite side of the coin?”
Soothing warmth covered her chilled hands. “There is no coin that can determine your future. You are young. You have many years to pursue greatness.” Slipping her hand into his, he covered it comfortingly with the other. “Let us not focus on that today. Today, we worry not what others think of us.” Trying to lighten her mood, he batted at the clouds that formed over her head. “Today, we will watch Ser Arthur best the prince.”
~~~*~~~
The marketplace was astir with the ingredients of a lively tourney on the way. Bakers rushed from their bakeries to line the streets with fresh goods situated on cooling racks. Jewelers set up lush and vibrant canopies to attract the eye to their precious gemstones. Smiths of all kinds beckoned upon their soapboxes, loudly proclaiming that any highborn lord who wields their weaponry will be granted great strength in their future endeavors. All swarmed like flies to the list where the tourney was to take place.
Rolling to a stop, the carriage holding Tywin and the princess opened with a small army of guards from the city watch squaring the two in.
“What are we doing in the market?” Her head could not move fast enough as she tried to view everything in a single second.
“The list is not far from here. As the princess of the Seven Kingdoms, I think it appropriate that you see firsthand what one of its great cities offers.”
Happy to take any opportunity to see more of Westeros, she nodded as they made their way away from the cart. Although, some would question his true intentions with walking the princess down the market street. Some wondered whether the two were betrothed, deciding against it when they could not recall any formal announcement. Others thought it to be a display of the power he held over the ruling family. The majority were just happy to see their ruling lord walking the streets.
As they strolled down the textured cobblestone walkway, smoothed from years of activity, a crowd gathered on the sidelines to throw praise to Lord Tywin. “Seven blessings, m’lord!” One yelled from a balcony above, gathering her child as she pointed him out. “May the gods smile upon you, Lord Tywin!” Another hollered, this time from behind a growing host of onlookers. As word spread of the princess walking amongst the people, many more flocked to the streets to see if she was truly the “hag” her reclusivity had named her.
The princess was awestruck by the love and adoration the city seemed to hold in their hearts for Tywin. He continually nodded and waved to varying members of their audience, each time earning more kind words from those compelled by other’s displays.
While the princess was concerned with the people, Tywin’s true focus was solely on her. She primarily led the group as her eyes guided her from one side of the street to the other. Warm breads filled with cinnamon and ground cloves nipped at her nose, followed by strong scents of freshly baked apples and lemon zest. Fennel and cardamom wafted from a nearby tavern’s opened window. Purchasing an apple crisp from a trusted merchant who often supplied gourmet goods to the Lannister’s household, Tywin handed it to the princess only after one of the guards tested it.
A particularly interesting merchant caught her eye, situated just past the baker. Tucked between his steaming racks and another table sat a young boy, no older than seven. With smudges of dirt covering his rounded reddened cheeks, he appeared far underfed and weary from crafting his wares. His shoes were thin, likely not protecting his feet from the ground given the blisters and calluses that coated the bottoms. Blonde hair had turned brown with oil and sweat. His eyes were downcast almost appearing as though he were asleep.
When the shadow of her figure covered his face, he sat up and brushed his hands down his face, dragging the dirt further across his skin. He had a torn yellowed blanket at his feet. Frayed edges held years of memories as it was more than likely his nursing blanket from when he was born. Tiny wooden statues that could fit in the palm of one’s hand were meticulously laid out, lined in rows of five with three rows total. Each was different from the other despite some being the same animals, but all were equally charming. “Did you make these?” She asked with the welcoming tilt of her curious head.
“Yes!...” He sucked his bottom lip between his large bucked teeth and took a deep breath to calm his heart as it beat from his chest. “Yes, m’lady.” He corrected.
The grooves and edges of one of the carvings bit into her skin, but she paid it no mind. A small lion with a crooked nose was the focus of her interest. Its mane was lopsided, heavy and bushy on the right side but practically nonexistent on the left. In no way was it intimidating like the beautifully crafted Lannister lions that decorated the Rock. Nonetheless, she found herself charmed by his efforts as he clearly put time into each. As she flipped the statue around in her hand, the merchant to his right nudged his shoulder with her sandal and whispered something in his ear. At her news, he straightened his back more and went wide-eyed. “Y-you can have it, princess (Y/n)... m’lady… your grace! If you want it. Free of charge for the princess, m’lady.”
“Nonsense.” Tywin interjected, regarding the young boy who immediately recognized him and grew another foot. “A man should never sell himself short.”
Looking to the merchant next to him seeking guidance, the boy found none. “I-”
“I believe this should cover the cost.” Holding a silver stag with the likeness of Aerys II pressed into its surface, Tywin extended his hand out to the child who took it and examined its edges with the surface of his thumb.
“Thank you, m’Lord!” He exclaimed, pocketing the coin in a concealed flap on the interior of his pants.
“Have you eaten yet today?” The princess rubbed her finger over the lion’s nose as the boy shook his head. Unintentionally, his eyes flitted to the still-steaming bun in her other hand. “Here.” She lowered it to where he could reach. “Freshly baked. Enjoy it while it’s warm.”
The boy looked again to the merchant who he seemed to know. She nodded her head forward and beckoned the boy to take the offering from the princess. Examining it, his mouth watered at the sickeningly sweet sugar that frosted the exterior of the golden pastry. Looking upward to the princess, a wide childish smile spread from one side of his face to the other and he lurched forward to wrap his arms securely around her waist. His cheek pressed into her side, leaving a reminder of his presence in the form of a small tan smudge in the red and white fabric.
Unknowing of the boy’s intentions, the guards of the city watch stiffened and began to grasp at the child’s clothing. Bubbly laughs stopped them along with the halting of her hand. Instead of ripping him from her side, she embraced the boy and ruffled her fingers through the top of his head, uncaring of the sleek oil left behind.
“Thank you, m’princess!” He stepped backward and stumbled as the excitement jolted through his system like lightning.
Bidding him farewell, she and Tywin continued on with their progression toward the list. As they got closer, the street became more densely packed and louder than it was before. Tywin’s hand found permanent residence on her shoulder, ensuring to him that she was always with him even when his head was focused elsewhere.
“I cannot believe this is only one part of the city.” The princess excitedly placed her hand against Tywin’s bicep, gripping slightly as she channeled the innocent naivete that had been trapped within her since birth. Beyond the castle’s walls was an entire world to experience, and she had barely scratched its surface.
“If you wish to venture through the entirety of Lannisport, I will personally see it so.” Tywin mirrored her elation in a more refined approach.
The wall of armored guards parted as a young man approached. “Lord Tywin.” He called as he stopped with a jump in his step. “Princess.” From his attire, she could conclude that he was a squire. Young in age and unarmed, he was likely the child of a western lord. “The king has arrived. He waits in the viewing stands.”
Nearly the entire population of Lannisport that wasn’t taking advantage of heightened traffic were seated on platforms of sturdy wood or perched on any rooftop that would merit even the smallest glance at the action. Men and women, boys and girls, all flocked to the streets as the exhilaration invigorated the air. Young women swooned at the idea of catching a fleeting tick of the prince’s attention. Young men were dazed and could only hope to be like him.
The princess arrived with Lord Tywin, an unexpected move but one that was unavoidable as they had already been traveling together. Entering beneath a tented pitch of red velvet and golden tassels, he was announced loudly by the middle-aged bellman who rallied the joyous cries of his people for their lord. Tywin did not bask in the cheer like Aerys had when he entered previously. Instead he held his composure by nodding to a few, giving a curt wave, and then using his hand to sweep the attention back to the king. The princess sat nearest to the action, blocked from it by the waterfall blockade that protected the royalty and highborns within. She watched and listened in utter awe as the masses roared with intense acclaim for Tywin. Praises were sung on the highest of clouds as the moment seemed to slow. Women waved their scarves and men shouted loudly with boasts of their lord. Turning her attention from the field to her rear, she could see the clear upset on her father’s face.
They should cheer louder for me, Aerys thought selfishly as he gripped his fingers tightly against the wooden chair he slouched in. His focus flickered from the people to Tywin, then downward to where Cersei sat next to his daughter. Before he left King’s Landing he had been informed that she had left with Rhaegar, Ser Barristan, and Ser Arthur, but seeing her here with his own eyes made his blood boil over. She was to be kept within the Red Keep, sealed away from the public’s view, safe within its suffocating walls. Rhaella, his wife, was kept under lock and key. He wondered if she would have to meet the same fate. He forced a smile - one of the first fatherly actions he had made since returning from Duskendale. Returning the gesture, he noted the way she reclined into herself and tore her gaze from his to engage in conversation with Cersei. The two started laughing with Jeyne Farman at something Melara Hetherspoon had said before turning their attention to the entry of Prince Rhaegar.
The people’s welcome for the Lord of Casterly Rock was great, but far different from the welcome the crowned prince received as he rode onto the list adorned in full Targaryen armor. Black metal shone with the sunlight beating down upon his shoulders. Red accented steel whipped around the track as he prompted the crowd to continue with their cheers. Cersei grabbed at (Y/n)’s hand, holding it tightly as she watched adoringly. Exemplified screams came from each corner of Lannisport, all loudly rolling over the fields for miles around. It only got louder as he removed his pointed helmet and gave a haughty bow to his father who merely stared back with an emptied haze hovering over his head.
“You seem rather taken by my brother.” The princess lent over to whisper in the ear of Tywin’s daughter. Though she attempted to remain quiet, her words carried over the crowd to the ear of Melara who sat at Cersei’s other side. Dressed elegantly in a gown of muted yellow resembling that of aged gold, Melara was a thin young girl. She styled her hair simply on either side of her shoulders, allowing the cascading brunette locks to fall to her waist.
“He is quite handsome.” Melara earned herself a harsh glare from the side of Cersei’s eye. “He has not taken a wife yet, and…” she feigned shyness by the curtain of her lashes, “excuse my ignorance, but is it not tradition to marry siblings in the Targaryen house?”
She was bold, clearly bolder than Jeyne who shrunk into herself, and it could even be said that she was bolder than Cersei. “That is the tradition.” The princess folded her hands in her lap, covering the lion figurine, watching as Tygett Lannister came trotting out onto the list mounted on a pure white horse. “I do not know my father’s plans.”
Unbeknownst to her, Tygett was another potential suitor for the princess. In fact, Tygett and Gerion had both been considered at a time, but were dismissed as quickly as they were presented. The only one that the king had let weigh on the table was the proposition of Jaime Lannister, and eventually he too was denied. He rode out to the roar of the people.
“I think there are many men who vye for your hand in marriage, your grace.” Melara said loudly, catching Tywin’s ear. “You will be a beautiful bride.”
A breathy laughing exhale was pushed from the princess’s lungs as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and relished in the newfound attention of a highborn lady. “You are most kind, lady Melara.”
At the sound of a horn, the riders were ready to start. Both men took a side of the list and prepared their lances beneath their arms. Each member of the audience lent forward in their seats as their steeds tore through the dirt with their furious hooves. In the matter of seconds, Rhaegar had defeated Tygett. Left with a broken lance and lowered enthusiasm for the sport, Tygett made his round, congratulated the prince, and left the list on horseback. Soonthereafter, he found himself joining the rest of the Lannister family beneath the covered tent.
Rhaegar defeated many others that day. Westerland knights fell in various fashions, some breaking lances and others simply being thrust from their saddles. Gerion followed in his younger brother’s footsteps after his match, sitting in the stands nearest to Tywin. Ser Barristan had the princess smiling as he made his round, throwing a wave high in the air. Though his spirits were high, his chances of winning when Rhaegar was on a roll were not. He, too, fell to the crowned prince.
It wasn’t until Ser Arthur rode out onto the list that Rhaegar’s streak was broken. Falling to Ser Arthur’s lance, Rhaegar found himself unhorsed and at a loss for the winning title he had been fighting for all day. The crowd cheered as Rhaegar stood and motioned to the winner, giving him an animated clap.
Excusing herself from Cersei and her friend’s company, the princess slipped from the tent before anyone else could notice. She had hoped to avoid her father’s audience, pleading and begging with the gods to allow her to slide by without notice. With a soft push of the curtain, she made her exit whilst her father engaged in conversation with Tywin.
Traipsing through the crowds of highborns, she traversed the mass audience of curious eyes. For most, this had been their first encounter with the princess. Many moved from her path, allowing her by. Others actively blocked her way, hoping to catch her for a conversation. Some were bold enough to propose betrothals with their sons, and others followed her as she went.
“Your grace!” One woman yelled from an unknown direction as the people grew dense. “Princess (Y/n)!” Another tried to get her attention. Bunching her skirts in her hands, she continued forward toward the tents where the knights had prepared earlier in the morning. “My lady!” A man, around her age, pushed through the crowd. Unruly hands pushed at her back as the composed lords lost their manners and began forcing their way through one another to get closer. Stumbling on the uneven surface, she would have lost her balance if not for the sturdy arms she fell upon.
The sunlight was eclipsed by a charming smile and soft eyes. “This is not how I envisioned our first meeting, your grace.” Copper hair hung to his shoulders and draped against the stiff shoulder pads of his gray tunic. “We have not been afforded an audience with one another.” Steadying her on her feet, he bowed deeply and took her hand gently in his. His lips pressed a chaste kiss to her flushing skin. “Addam Marbrand.”
“Of Ashemark.” She finished, retracting her hand politely and holding it in front of her body. “Tales of your gallantry are often told in Kings Landing.”
“I am honored to hear that my name has fallen on the ears of the most beautiful woman in the realm.” Blushing, the princess fidgeted with her fingers. Noticeably her figurine was missing. His kind eyes bore into her subdued features, taking in his first sight of the hidden princess. Upon catching her searching the ground, he followed suit, quickly finding the imperfect lion. “Charming.” He flipped it over in his hand before offering it back to her.
“A boy in the market was selling them.”
“And a supporter of the local economy, princess. The west is forever grateful.”
Flushing again, she timidly took the carving back. “Have you the chance to visit the capitol, Lord Addam?”
“I have,” he confirmed, finding his focus drawn to her rear where an approaching figure neared. “...many times. It seems that each visit I find myself leaving without having met you.” An airy chuckle outlined his next words. “I must say, I believe it was worth the wait. Your beauty is far beyond what my imagination could craft.”
Shyly looking elsewhere, she continued to grow redder by the second. “You flatter me. I-”
Feeling the presence of another, she turned her head to the side to find Tywin with his arms connected at the small of his back. “Princess.” His hand moved to press against her side. “Prince Rhaegar requests an audience in his tent.” Sliding from her waist to her shoulder, Tywin’s hand landed protectively over the loose-fitting fabric that covered her arm.
“I was on my way to see him when the crowd grew too dense.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Lord Addam saved me from a rather embarrassing fall to the dirt.”
Cutting back into the conversation, Addam spoke. “I would be most pleased to escort the princess, my lord.”
“That will not be necessary.” Tywin nonchalantly looked over his shoulder back toward the list. “Addam, your father was searching for you. You should see to it.”
Straightening his back, his shoulders set widely to display the strength in his upper body. “Of course.” Addam’s eyes met the princess’s. “I hope that we can meet again, my lady.” Then, without another word, he disappeared into the wall of people.
“What did Rhaegar want with me?” She wondered aloud as Tywin’s guiding hand maneuvered her through the maze of bumping shoulders.
Nearing the edge of the sea that seemed to swallow all those who entered, the faint whisper of green grass could be seen swimming amongst the pool of vibrant fabrics. Beyond that were stable boys guiding armored horses, waving flags atop high tents, and the low hum of conversations mixing into a concoction of a tourney’s delight.
Pacing their way toward Rhaegar’s quarters, she stalled as she considered Tywin’s silence as a very telling answer to her question. “Rhaegar did not summon me.” She concluded, finding a smug grin on her rose lips. “You simply did not enjoy watching me converse with Lord Marbrand.” Sliding past a group of competing knights, the two separated slightly.
“He is a fine young man.” Tywin defended. “Well respected in Ashemark and the west. He would make a fine suitor should your father deem him so.” Though the words fell from his lips, Tywin knew it not to be. Aerys already had plans in motion for his daughter.
“Fear not, my lord. Only one man has captured my eye.”
Fluttering playfully by, she attracted the focus of each man and boy. There was something intensely alluring about the Targaryens that no other house had. It was not in their Valyrian features. They shared the same colorless hair and lilac eyes with the Velaryons. The pull of their gravitational hold on others came from their resolve. Many Targaryen’s who achieved the famed “greatness” all shared traits that blended into a cocktail of pursuance in their climb for grandeur.
She, the princess, was a particularly notable royal. For she was more or less a blank slate. No glory came from tournaments like it did for Rhaegar. Madness nor prosperity had been bestowed upon her from her father. Her future was yet to be told, and something about that intrigued those who watched and waited to hear of what she planned to do with her canvas.
Tywin watched as she skirted past more men blissfully ignoring their gawking mouths and wandering eyes. Only when she disappeared through the drapes of Rhaegar’s tent did he adjust his shoulders back and return to his duties.
“Myles, a pleasure as always.” The princess walked through the curtained entrance of the tent where Rhaegar dressed. The room was spacious for its temporary structure; holding a stand for his armor, a desk with two tables, a chaise lounge covered in burgundy velvet, and a small closet for his normal attire.
Myles Mooton wandered about the room, focused on nothing in particular as he set about tidying and preparing Rhaegar’s clothing. As a younger man, he served as Rhaegar’s squire. Bold and brass, he had earned himself a positive place in the prince’s circle of friends. “Princess.” He regarded her with an over-the-top bow and sauntered out.
“The people really love you, brother.” Her skirts hooped as she swung around to face Rhaegar. Sitting on a padded bench, he forced his feet into his boots and tucked the excess cloth into the sides.“Is father as angered with my presence here as I assume him to be?”
His cotton undershirt matched the black tunic he often wore. “I avoided his eye.” Pressing his hands against his cheeks, he refocused himself. Fingers combed through his colorless hair, sweeping it backward to fall over his shoulders. Buttoning his dragon-embroidered outer coat, he patted the clasps and let out a sigh.
There was a clear tension in his build. Shoulders that often laid slack and relaxed were tight in an almost cringing fashion. A crinkle in his nose creased his skin like a page in a book. Something was on his mind, and it only weighed him down further with his sister standing in close proximity.
“We will talk later.”
Before she could say anything else, Rhaegar disappeared past the brush of the tapestry leaving nothing behind but the faint scent of sweat clinging to his armor.
~~~*~~~
“Lord Tyrion.”
Casterly Rock was a fairly difficult place to roam. Easily finding oneself at a crossroads with one direction leading upward and another to the sea, without a map the princess was lost. Ser Barristan had accompanied her, but found himself as lost as she as they humorously wandered aimlessly hoping to find a familiar area. Pushing past two great doors lined with jagged rock, they were surprised to have found a library.
Leather-bound books lined the walls. Some held notable titles easily recognizable to the princess and others were extremely foreign. Lit lanterns were ablaze, keeping the entirety of the room lit despite it having no exposed areas to the outside. Alone below a table sat the missing Lannister of whom she had not seen since her initial arrival at Casterly Rock: Tyrion Lannister.
Born five years after the twins, Tyrion’s entrance to the world was his mother’s exit. He was a notably lonely child, having spent much of his childhood thus far alone with no company from his immediate family. Aunts and uncles who ran Casterly Rock in Tywin’s absence did their best to entertain his whimsical thoughts and ideas, but nothing could fill the yearn for a comforting soul in his abysmal existence. Tales of Tyrion fastly spread upon his birth with some calling him a monster. Others feared that he was an omen of what was to come. Even the king disparaged the child by considering him to be a punishment for Tywin’s arrogance.
Though sitting on the floor surrounded by books and a burning candle, Tyrion looked no different than any other child.
“Princess.” Tyrion made to stand, but resituated himself as soon as she held a halting hand out to him.
“There is no need to rise.” The bounding skirts of her dress pooled around her as she lowered herself onto the frigid stone floor. “I am the one disturbing you, afterall.” Thumbing across his mountain of literature, she found many pertaining to Targaryens, and more concerning dragons. “Black Wings, Swift Words.” She tilted her head to read its title. “I quite like this one. Interesting notion, wasn’t it? Replacing ravens with doves. The skies would surely be more beautiful, but how would we be notified that winter is coming?” Leaning her elbows against her knees, she hovered just below the table’s top. “Maester Pycelle always made sure to show me the white raven sent from the Citadel to declare summer’s end. Do you enjoy reading?”
Tyrion was ambivalent about answering the princess. He had seen her with his father and his sister on multiple occasions in her short time visiting, but his thirst for knowledge and interest in the Targaryen’s eventually outweighed any skepticism. “I’m reading this one now.” Pushing the opened book toward the princess, he sat higher as she looked over the writing.
“The Rogue Prince. He lived quite the life, a true warrior of his time.”
“He wielded Dark Sister.” Tyrion adjusted the edges of the book to face him once more. “His dragon, Caraxes, was red.” His eyes twinkled with delight as he displayed his knowledge. “I’m not far yet, only to his second marriage. He lived in Pentos with Laena Velaryon and Vhagar.”
“That is very true.” She was gladdened by his enthusiasm. “You know so much about the Targaryens, I think you should have taught me lessons instead of my septa.”
“I want to write a book someday.” The remnants of a smile formed at his lips. “About the Targaryens… an entire history from Valyria to now.”
“I would love to read it… a great mind such as yours should not go to waste.” She pushed her hands against the floor to push herself to her knees. “I will be the first to request a copy in King’s Landing when it is completed.”
She and Ser Barristan continued to wander the halls, blissfully lost as they experienced Casterly Rock as it should be. Initially he had questioned why she didn’t ask Tyrion’s help, but as they turned corners and the twinkle in her eye burned brightly he understood.
Freedom was fleeting as her return to King’s Landing fastly approached.
She was simply enjoying herself.
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Writers note: Happy New Year 🎆
Tag list:
@issybee0611 @yellowbadgermole @ladysindar @usernameosv @thanyatargaryen @kishie8
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 2 years
Text
Kinktober- Drabble #12
Characters: Top Natasha, Bottom Wanda
Kinks: Consensual non consent, Intoxication, praise, Double penetration, Orgasm control/denial
Word count: 1851    Wandanat Masterlist  Marvel Masterlist  Kinktober
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   You roll your eyes, watching as Tony makes a fool of himself on the dancefloor in a drunken attempt to impress Pepper, who is in fact very unimpressed. But your focus is removed from them when your girlfriend Natasha elbows you in the ribs.
   “Ouch. Hey! What was that for?” you grumble, rubbing your side
   She smirks at you, “Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink.”
   You follow her line of sight over to the bar where your other girlfriend, Wanda, staggers slightly as she gets down from the barstool. She places a hand on the counter to steady herself before she looks around. As soon as she spots you both a smile lights up her features and she waves enthusiastically. 
   Natasha smiles, shaking her head in amusement as you bothe wave back at her. She goes to make her way over to you both, but she stumbles in her heels. If it wasn't for Bucky's quick reflexes she probably would have hit the floor.
   “You alright doll?” he asks with a chuckle
   She nods, “Thanks Buck. I’m ok”
   “We got it from here, soldier,” Nat tells him, wrapping her arms around Wanda's waist.
   You smile at him, “Thanks for saving her from a nasty fall.”
  “No problem” he says with a nod before heading off on his way, trying to find Steve, Sam or Sharon no doubt.
   “Hiiii moya lyubov'(my loves)” Wanda greets, smiling once more
   “Hi baby” you greet, kissing her cheek. 
   She quickly turns, crashing her lips against yours, causing Natasha to chuckle. The brunette turns, cutting off the Russians laugh as her lips meet hers as well. Making it your turn to chuckle.
   “Easy dorogoy(sweetheart)” Nat tells her, “Let's get you back to our room so you can rest, ok?”
    Wanda pouts, “But I want you both.”
    “I don’t know Wans. You seem a bit too out of it.” you state as Nat helps her walk out of the party and to the elevators with you
   She huffs, “I’m coherent....enough. ‘M just not coordinated in these damn heels anymore. Please moya lyubov'(my loves)? You both look so good tonight. Just wanna feel you.”
   You and Natasha share a look as the elevator doors close, and you watch as her tongue darts out to dapen her lips, “Do you remember our agreement?”
   “Yes.” she nods, “If at any point you deem me too drunk you'll stop and if I get uncomfortable I just have to use my safeword.”
   The Russians' eyes meet yours, “What do you think, Y/n?”
  “I think we should give our darling what she wants.”
   Wanda smiles happily as she reaches out to grab your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as the three of you wait to arrive on your floor. Once the doors open she awkwardly drags you along beside her as Nat walks her to your shared bedroom. 
   The three of you walk in and Nat sets Wanda down on the edge of the bed, “Before we do anything, let's get you out of these dangerous heels.”
   Wanda hums as the redheads' hands make their way down her soft, smooth legs until they reach her feet. She easily slips the heels off, tossing them aside before squeezing Wanda's thighs. The gesture is meant to be affectionate, but it's clear to both you and Nat that Wanda feels differently as she shudders, spreading her legs further apart.
   “Oh, someone's needy, hm?” Natasha teases, looking into Wanda's eyes as she tucks a strand of loose hair behind the woman's ear
   “Yes. Need you both so badly, please.” she admints, looking away from Nat to meet your gaze instead
   You move closer to them, slowly starting to unbutton your vest, much to the excitement of the two women in front of you. You take it off, tossing it to the couch across the room. You then begin to unbutton your dress shirt, watching as Wanda not so subtly licks her lips in anticipation. You toss it to the couch as well, before moving to remove your pants.
   Before you can unzip them Natashas hands grip your wrists, “Let me help you detka(baby), please?”
   “Go ahead Tasha” you tell her with a nod.
   She eagerly unzips them and her face comes dangerously close to your core as she slides them down your legs. She eyes you mischievously as she eyes the bulge in your boxers, showing off the toy you had decided to wear to the party.
   “Wanna help me out of this dress?” she asks, mere inches away from your lips
   You breach the distance, kissing her as your hands make their way up her back until they're pulling down her zipper. She continues to kiss you as her dress falls to the floor, pooling at her feet. Poor Wanda was simply left on the bed, watching as she presses her thighs together and a small whimper of need leaves her. 
   The Sokovians mouth goes dry as Natasha pulls away from you, allowing her to see that you each had straps packed within your boxers.
   “What? Did you think that we wouldn't be prepared?” Nat teases as she walks back over to her, “Stand up dorogoy(sweetheart)”
   Wanda stands, a bit too quickly, and nearly crashes into Nat and you chuckle, “So eager for us, aren’t you?”
   “Yes” she answers as the older woman pulls the dress from her body. Her teeth tug on her bottom lip as you both take in the fact that she hadn't bothered to put on a bra tonight
   “Naughty girl.” Nat exclaims, grasping Wanda's plump breasts. She moans, arching further into the Russians hold as she reaches a hand out for you. 
   You quickly grab it, letting her pull you closer to the two of them. Natasha smirks at you, “I think it's time to give her what she wants, don’t you?”
   You nod, “Be a good girl and help Tasha and I outta our boxes, won’t you baby?”
   Wanda eagerly nods, and Natasha moves her hands away from the younger woman's chest so she can do as asked. Her hands make quick work of pulling down the redheads boxers. She tries her best to ignore the toy that springs free so she can move on to you. Your boxers hit the floor just as fast as Nats had and this time Wanda can’t help but stare at the toy.
   As she eyes your strap Natasha makes her way around to the other side of the bed and crawls to the center of it, sitting herself on her knees. You smirk as you see her take her spot and subtly nod at her.
   “Come here dorogoy(sweetheart)” the Russian calls, “Come sit on my cock”
   Wanda practically scrambles to turn around and make her way over to the older woman. She hungrily kisses her before turning around to show off her ass to her. Natashas hands grope the plump flesh there before she grabs a tube of lube off the bedside table. She squirts a generous amount into her hands before she strokes the fake cock between her legs, making sure it's ready for her girlfriend.
  Wanda sinks down on the toy with a moan as it slowly spreads her ass open, Natashas hands rest on her hips to help guide her until she bottoms out as you make your way to join them. 
   She whimpers, reaching out for you as you settle on your knees in front of her. Your hands trail over her thighs, pulling them further apart to give yourself better access. As you do so your eyes are drawn to her cunt. She's absolutely soaked, her arousal drips to the sheets below her and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight.
   “So wet for us baby” you rasp out as Natasha scatters soft kisses against the younger woman's shoulders. Wanda whimpers again and you decide to give into her. You push your hips forward and the strap easily slides into her
  “Ooh fuck!” she moans, feeling incredibly fully as she's stretched open on both her girlfriends cocks. You both remain far too still for her liking and she grinds her hips in an attempt to feel some sort of relief, “Please…please fuck me”
   Natasha doesn't hesitate, thrusting up into the Sokovians ass with vigor as her hands come to play with the brunettes bouncing tits. Wandas eyes flutter as she moans, her head falling back against the redhead's shoulder. You take advantage of this and begint to suck on her neck's sweet spot, your hands tightly grip her hips as you also begin to thrust up into her.
   Wanda quickly becomes a mess between you and Natasha. She's quite literally only capable of moans, whimpers, and whines as a form of communication as the two of you fuck her senseless. One of her hands holds your lips in place against her neck by clutching at the back of your neck while her other grapes One of Natashas tightly.
  “ ‘M so close….so close” Wanda mumbles and you smirk, anticipating Nats next words
   “That's too damn bad, dorogoy(sweetheart). You won't be cumming anytime soon”
   Her eyes snap open and she looks at you pleadingly, "N- no, please”
  “You heard Tasha. Don’t you dare cum yet.”
   She weakly nods, whimpering and biting her bottom lip as you and Natasha continue to fuck her. Her eyes slam shut as she desperately tries to concentrate on anything other than the immense pleasure in her core that's threatening to reach its peak at any second. 
   Intent on listening to the Russians orders, Wanda lets her nails dig into the back of your neck and Natashas forearm as she trembles slightly, trying her best to not let the feeling of her girlfriends cocks push her over the edge. 
   She moans, arching away from Natasha as your strap brushes against her clit, and she knows she won’t be able to hold off her orgasm for much longer, if at all.
   “Please please please please” she begs, a few tears building in her eyes, “I can’t…I need to cum Tasha, please.”
   Nat places a kiss against the trembling girl's cheek, “Not yet dorogoy(sweetheart). You can give us a few more minutes can’t you?”
   She shakes her head, “No! No no no, please!”
   “I know you can do it, baby” you whisper, kissing along her jaw, “Don’t you wanna make us happy?”
   “Yes” she whimpers
    After a few more thrusts from each of you, you can tell by the look on Wanda's face that she can’t handle any more, and you relay that to your other girlfriend with a look. 
   Nat nods, leaning into Wanda further to kiss along her collarbone, “Cum for us”
   Wanda moans loudly, thighs shaking as she finally cums. And she cums hard, practically melting between the two of you as her exhaustion and drunkenness fully takes hold over her. 
   You both chuckle, deciding to sit there for a few more minutes, letting her rest before moving to clean her up and tucking her into bed. 
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Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @jedi-athen-orion 
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itsfeckinwimdy · 2 years
Text
Hair - Lando Norris
Lando Norris x Reader (romantic)
Reader Pronouns: She/Her
Prompt: sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. (if the receiver has short hair, then the sender reaches out and gently runs their fingers through their hair to smooth it back.)
Word Count: 0.4k (473)
Formula 1 Masterlist
Published: 14/06/2022
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The rain was pouring and Lando was snoring.
The afternoon was passing by slowly as the grey clouds continued to roll across the sky. They knew it was going to be a wet day, the two drivers having been informed about the treacherous conditions upon their arrival to the track that morning.
Her team had got her car prepped and after a wacky qualifying, she was starting from p7. However, after spending 30 minutes in the red bull garage where Max's dad had decided to make an appearance this weekend, she couldn't stand to listen to his remarks about his teammate (her) anymore.
Apparently, anything other than p2 wasn't good enough for her to be an okay teammate for Max Emillain Verstappen.
(Jos' words, not hers).
So that led her to running down the pit lane in her race suit and waterproof jacket towards the papaya building, her traitorous Aston Martin beanie, that she stole from Seb, on her head.
The McLaren staff and mechanics were welcoming towards her, mainly because they knew it was a way to get Lando to stop talking about her all the time. And the two of them were adorable together. Not that most of them would admit, except Charlotte and Daniel of course. Any opportunity to tease the brit he would take.
Lando and herself had situated themselves at the back of the garage, away from some of the prying eyes of the cameras which were interested in what the drivers were up to whilst everyone waited for the rain to pass.
In time, the conversation between the couple became hushed murmurs of one tiredly acknowledging the other and turned into the two of them basking in the presence of the other whilst watching the storm rage on outside.
His head came to rest on her shoulder as the weather began to worsen. His eyes closed as the pattering of rain droned on, his breathing evening out letting his conscience fade. Sleep welcomed him just as the cameras began to sweep through the garages once again.
She looked over at him after not hearing a response from her papaya clad partner only for her to realise that he had succumbed to his tiredness. Noticing a few strands of hair spilling out of his beanie and onto his face, she remarked how peaceful he looked. The pressure of the job can get to you at times so seeing him look so peaceful made her smile.
Reaching up she carefully brushed the strands to the side before tucking them back in his beanie. How Lando was able to look so hot and cute at the same time, she would never know. Maybe she would get him to teach her one day.
But for now, she closed her eyes resting her head against his and clasped his hand in hers.
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camelliagwerm · 4 months
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my lover, my tormentor for the wip game? 👀
WIP Round-Up
Oh this is an old, old WIP that I keep intending to revisit. I'll certainly finish it up one day as I think it'd work as a good prequel to Savour Its Sweet, Bloody Taste.
This is a brief glimpse into Camellia's life in Korvosa, working as an assassin in the criminal underworld there - and the fact she's now bored and isn't gettng the same satisfaction she once got from killing. She's also missing Valerius more than she anticipated, feeling the desire to return to him in spite of her fears.
I can offer an excerpt of this one:
“You were a good fuck. Fun too, not like half of these other girls,” he tells her as he reaches across his bed, all gaudy red and black silk and velvet in a gross mockery of wealth,  and takes a small, silver box. Inside is a golden soot-smelling powder, which he puts a pinch onto his fingertips and brings it to his nose. He snorts it, and she goes back to buttoning up her blouse. “C’mon, Mireya, don’t you want another go?” He reaches out to grab her arse and she slaps it away. It is a quick, sharp sting with the flat of her palm across his hand and she hears him hiss in surprise. “We had our ‘fun’ and I see no reason to take it any further than that,” she replies coldly.  She smooths down her dark hair, tucking loose strands behind her ears, before pulling out the canvas duster from beneath the other pile of clothes. She does not make eye contact with him, doing her best to hold her tongue before she says anything else that may result in her body sinking to the bottom of this very pier: that fun is certainly a subjective word for what occurred between them, and even though he is one of the most feared crime lords in this shit-hole of a city, he’s terrible in bed. It had been one of the longest half an hours of her life. “I’d prefer to keep it to just business from now on.”
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