#☆ rare encounter ☆ v

[littlemessengers]

You guys are ridiculous. Jumin wouldn't regress. He's made it clear how he feels about that (especially in regards to himself.)

Has he…?

What did he… say…?

-V

[navramanan]

:/

[honeybelleee]

Extra Lessons | L.HS

Synopsis - y/n a struggling trainee sparks an intense connection with her strict trainer Heeseung, leading to a steamy, unexpected encounter during their private lessons.

Genre - trainer x trainee, dom!heeseung x inexperienced!reader, smut, fluff

Warnings - loss of virginity (reader), mention of first kiss (reader), reader is so inexperience, heeseung possessive asf here, 5 years age gap (heeseung is 23, y/n is 18), pet names (baby, princess, angel), swearings, fingering (f receiving), p in a v, unprotected sex (pls dont do this), dirty talks, nipple play, corruption kink, HEAVY making outs, praise kink (hee calls reader good girl)

Belle’s notes - i wish this happened to me irl :( likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 🫶🏻

masterlist

Heeseung was known for his strict and no-nonsense approach. His intense gaze and authoritative demeanor often sent shivers down the spines of trainees, who would instinctively straighten up and try harder under his watchful eyes. Despite his tough exterior, Heeseung was respected for his expertise and the success of the idols he had mentored.

Among the trainees, Y/n always seemed to catch his attention. Y/n was one of the youngest in the group, standing out with her quiet demeanor and petite frame. Her reserved nature made her appear fragile in contrast to the other confident, high-energy trainees. She wasn’t the best at dancing and often found herself stumbling during practice, her lack of confidence evident in every misstep. Yet, there was something about her determination that struck a chord with Heeseung.

Y/n was hardworking, and despite her mistakes, she never gave up. Every time she fell behind, she would stay late after practice, pushing herself to improve.

Heeseung observed her from a distance, noting the shy but fierce look of concentration she wore while working on her moves. There was something endearing about her persistence, and it wasn’t long before Heeseung decided to step in.

After one particularly grueling group session, Y/n lingered in the practice room, rehearsing a difficult dance sequence that had tripped her up earlier. She was so focused that she didn’t notice Heeseung approaching until his deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Y/n," he called, making her jump slightly.

Turning quickly, she stood frozen as Heeseung approached. His eyes were as intense as ever, but his expression was softer than usual. She was used to his strict criticism, but this time, there was something different in his gaze.

“You’re working hard,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “But you’re too tense. You need to relax.”

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, looking down at her feet. “I’ll keep practicing until I get it right.”

Heeseung frowned. “That’s not what I meant. It’s good that you’re working hard, but you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. It’s affecting your performance.”

Y/n bit her lip, feeling a lump form in her throat. She knew she wasn’t as skilled as the others, and every mistake felt like another step away from her dream of becoming an idol.

"I don't want to fall behind," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung’s gaze softened. He wasn’t used to seeing trainees this vulnerable, especially someone as determined as Y/n. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her shoulder, startling her with the unexpected gesture.

“You’re not falling behind,” he said, his voice firm but encouraging. “You just need some guidance. Let’s work on this together.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise. Extra lessons with Heeseung were rare and highly sought after by trainees, and she never expected to be offered one. She nodded quickly, her heart racing at the thought of having his full attention, but also nervous about whether she could live up to his expectations.

“Thank you, Heeseung sunbae-nim,” she whispered, bowing her head in gratitude. “I’ll do my best.”

The following day, Y/n arrived at the practice room for her first one-on-one session. Her nerves were on edge as she walked in, feeling the weight of Heeseung’s serious gaze as soon as she stepped inside. He stood near the mirror, his arms crossed as he watched her approach. The room felt smaller with just the two of them, and Y/n could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone calm but authoritative.

Y/n nodded, wiping her clammy hands on her shorts. She took her place in front of the mirror, trying to steady her breathing as Heeseung moved to stand beside her. His presence was imposing, but not in the way that made her want to run. Instead, it made her want to prove herself.

They started with simple movements, Heeseung correcting her form and posture as they went along. He was patient, more so than she expected, offering advice and demonstrating each step with precision. Yet, no matter how much she focused, Y/n found herself making mistakes, her nerves getting the better of her.

At one point, she stumbled, nearly falling to the floor, but Heeseung’s quick reflexes caught her by the arm, steadying her.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. “You’re thinking too much. Feel the music, don’t force the movements.”

Y/n blinked up at him, her cheeks flushing under his scrutiny. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, but not entirely from the dance. There was something about the way he looked at her, like he was seeing more than just a trainee.

Heeseung took a step back, giving her space, but his eyes never left hers. “Let’s take a break,” he suggested, motioning for her to sit. “You’re overworking yourself.”

Grateful for the respite, Y/n sank onto the practice room floor, her legs feeling like jelly. She took a deep breath, glancing up as Heeseung sat down beside her, uncharacteristically close.

"You’re trying too hard to be perfect," he said after a moment of silence. "It’s not about perfection. It’s about feeling the music and letting your body follow naturally."

Y/n looked down at her hands, unsure of how to respond. She had always felt like she had to be perfect, especially in an industry that demanded it. But hearing Heeseung say otherwise felt... comforting.

"How did you do it?" she asked, her voice quiet. “You’re always so confident when you dance.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, a rare sound that made her look up in surprise. “I wasn’t always like this,” he admitted. “When I first started training, I made plenty of mistakes. But I learned that being perfect isn’t what matters. It’s about how you recover from your mistakes.”

Y/n blinked, processing his words. Heeseung someone she had always seen as flawless had struggled too?

He must have seen the surprise in her eyes, because he added, “Everyone goes through it. Even the best dancers. But you can’t give up on yourself.”

Y/n felt a flicker of hope ignite in her chest. Maybe she wasn’t as far behind as she thought. Maybe, with Heeseung’s help, she could get better.

They resumed practice after their break, and though Y/n still stumbled a few times, she felt lighter. Each time she faltered, Heeseung was there, his steady hands guiding her, his voice reassuring. Little by little, she began to feel the rhythm of the music, her body moving more naturally under his watchful eye.

By the end of the session, Y/n was exhausted but also elated. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could do this, that she might have a chance at becoming the idol she had always dreamed of being.

As they wrapped up, Heeseung looked at her, his intense gaze softening just a little.

"You're improving," he said simply.

Y/n smiled shyly, her cheeks warming at the compliment. “Thank you. I’ll keep practicing.”

Heeseung nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice low.

“Same time.”

Y/n’s heart was racing as she caught a glimpse of Heeseung's biceps from his tanktop, and his tall figure towering over her.

"Let's begin," he said, his voice deep and commanding. Y/n nodded, trying to steady her trembling hands. As they started the routine, Heeseung's eyes traced her every move, his gaze intense and focused. He noticed her nervousness and took a step closer, his presence both intimidating and thrilling.

Midway through the dance, Heeseung's control began to slip. The sight of Y/n's delicate form was more captivating than he had anticipated. Every hesitant step she took seemed to pull him in, her innocence and vulnerability stirring something deep within him. His intense gaze followed her every move, and without thinking, he closed the distance between them.

In one swift motion, Heeseung's hand found its way to Y/n’s waist, his fingers gripping her soft skin with a firmness that sent a jolt of electricity through her. Before she could react, Heeseung spun her around, his lips crashing onto hers with a force that made her gasp in surprise.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was hungry, raw, and overwhelming, like he had been holding back this desire for far too long. His lips moved against hers with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Y/n’s heart raced as she felt the heat of his body press into her, the world around them fading into a blur. Her knees wobbled, but Heeseung's grip tightened, keeping her grounded as his lips devoured hers.

Y/n’s mind spun, her inexperience clashing with the intense feelings bubbling inside her. She had never been kissed like this. Hell she had never been kissed at all, and the sheer intensity of it was enough to make her dizzy. His lips were demanding, taking control as he explored her mouth with a sense of greediness that sent shivers down her spine.

Heeseung’s tongue brushed against her lips, coaxing them apart, and when she hesitated, he growled softly, deepening the kiss with a fierce determination. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her, teasing her with slow, deliberate movements. Y/n couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss, her body instinctively responding to the heat radiating between them.

The sound only seemed to spur Heeseung on, his hand sliding up her back, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her flushed cheek as he tilted her head, angling her lips to fit perfectly against his. Y/n’s pulse quickened as the kiss grew more heated, their lips colliding with a feverish intensity.

Heeseung’s kiss was relentless, a mix of heat and control that left Y/n breathless. His lips moved against hers with precision, each motion sending sparks of desire through her. She could feel his body tense with restrained power, his grip on her waist firm yet possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

Every time Y/n thought he might pull away, Heeseung only deepened the kiss further. His tongue explored her mouth with a sensual dominance, the taste of him intoxicating as he claimed her with every movement. Heeseung's lips were hot, his breath ragged as he pushed her harder against him, his desire for her clear in the way his hands gripped her tighter.

A soft whimper escaped Y/n’s lips as his teeth grazed her lower lip, nibbling lightly before sucking it between his own. The feeling sent a sharp wave of pleasure coursing through her, and she couldn’t stop the way her body responded, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she melted into him. Heeseung smirked against her mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he murmured against her lips, his voice low and husky, sending a thrill through Y/n's body.

Before she could process his words, Heeseung's lips crashed back onto hers with renewed fervor, his kiss growing more hungry, more desperate. He kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he couldn’t stand the thought of pulling away even for a second. His hand tangled in her hair, gently tugging her head back to expose her neck. Without warning, his lips left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her jawline, his breath scorching her skin.

Y/n’s breath hitched as Heeseung’s lips brushed against the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth grazing her skin lightly before sucking on the delicate flesh. The sensation sent a wave of heat flooding through her, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

"You drive me crazy," Heeseung whispered, his voice dark and rough, his lips continuing their path down her neck. His kisses were searing, each one making her feel as if she were burning from the inside out. Heeseung nipped at her skin, his tongue soothing the sting as he moved lower, his lips brushing dangerously close to her collarbone.

Y/n's entire body felt like it was on fire, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. She could barely think, her mind consumed by the feeling of Heeseung's lips and the way his hands roamed her body with a hunger that made her knees weak. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and she didn’t want it to stop.

Heeseung’s lips returned to hers, his kiss more insistent, harsher than before. His hand slid down her back, resting on the curve of her waist as he pressed her closer to him, their bodies molding together as if they were made to fit this way. Y/n could feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, his hard muscles tense beneath her fingers.

"I’m going to ruin you," he murmured against her lips, his breath hot and ragged.

He unbuttoned her crop top, revealing her small, perky breasts. Her nipples were already erect, betraying her arousal.

Heeseung's mouth watered as he leaned down, taking a taut peak between his lips. He sucked and teased, his tongue flicking across her sensitive bud. Y/n arched her back, a loud moan escaping her lips. She had never felt such pleasure, her body responding instinctively to his skilled touch. He pinched her nipples, rolling and tugging them until she was squirming beneath him, her hands gripping the couch cushions tightly.

His fingers trailed down her stomach, sliding beneath the waistband of her panties. He eased them down her slender thighs, revealing her bare pussy. Y/n's breath hitched as she felt the cool air on her exposed skin. Heeseung's fingers gently parted her folds, his thumb circling her clit, eliciting a soft whimper from her.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "Be my good girl and let me hear how much you're enjoying this Y/n."

He increased the pressure, rubbing her clit in firm circles, his fingers dipping into her wetness. Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips thrusting against his hand. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. He eased his fingers in and out, building her pleasure until she was writhing beneath him, her body tense on the brink of release.

"Let it out for me princess," he commanded, his voice rough but gentle at the same time.

Y/n's body trembled as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, her orgasm ripping through her. She cried out, her back arching off the couch, her pussy clenching around his fingers. Heeseung continued to stroke her through her climax, drawing it out until she was a quivering mess.

He moved between her thighs, his hard cock straining against his pants. Y/n's eyes fluttered open, her face flushed and satisfied. Heeseung positioned himself at her entrance, his length pressing against her wetness. Slowly, he pushed inside, feeling her tightness envelop him. Y/n gasped, her body adjusting to the invasion.

Heeseung held himself still, giving her time to accommodate his size. Then, with a gentle rhythm, he began to move, his hips thrusting slowly at first, then picking up the pace. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her hands gripping his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her pussy squeezing his cock.

"You feel so fucking good, Y/n," he growled, his voice strained. "So tight and wet."

He increased the tempo, his cock sliding in and out of her with urgency. Y/n's breath came in short gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders. Heeseung's control was slipping again, his desire to possess her completely overwhelming.

"I'm going to cum inside you, angel," he grunted, his voice hoarse. "I want to fill you with my cum."

Y/n's body tightened around him as she felt his cock throbbing, her own pleasure building again. Heeseung's name escaped her lips in a breathless moan as she climaxed again, her pussy pulsating around him. He followed her over the edge, his cock twitching as he filled her with his hot release, their bodies connected in the most intimate way.

As their hearts slowed and their breathing evened out, Heeseung collapsed onto the couch beside Y/n, pulling her close. She snuggled against his chest, feeling safe in his arms as the warmth of their shared moment lingered. Heeseung kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently stroking her back.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of tenderness.

Y/n nodded, her eyes half-closed. “Yeah… I’m okay,” she whispered, feeling a soft smile tug at her lips.

Heeseung’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. “You were amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You did so well."

Y/n blushed, her heart fluttering at the affection in his voice. “Thank you… I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she admitted shyly.

He chuckled, his eyes soft as he pulled her closer. “I’ll run you a warm bath later, okay? You deserve it.” His voice was low and caring, filled with a sweetness that made Y/n's chest tighten.

She looked up at him, smiling softly. “You’re really sweet,” she whispered, feeling a warmth spread through her.

“Only for you,” he replied with a grin, kissing her gently. After a moment, he whispered, “You’re mine now,”

Y/n nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “I am.”

Heeseung smiled, kissing her one last time, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they settled into a comfortable silence, the connection between them deeper than before.

TAGLIST - @jakeyhoney @jakeswifez @gnvi-eve

©honeybelleee on tumblr!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the bosses daughter part two

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of past hookups, semi public sex, almost caught, golfer!rafe

part one / part two

“who are you looking at?” your dad questions, pressing his face to the window, but there's too many people mulling around to realize who your eyes are on.

“jesus.” you groan and pull the curtains shut. “no one! i was just looking outside at the storm coming in.”

“i don't believe you!” your dad calls as you stomp away. it's telling enough how often you've been at the club, and it's only a matter of time for him to realize that your drop ins are lining up with a certain instructors schedule.

you pull out your phone as you take a seat on the couch, navigating to rafes number. you exchanged it after your third hookup and have been texting nonstop since.

you quickly type out a message, knowing rafe will read it once he's done with his lesson.

supposed to storm soon. dad will notice if any carts are still out. meet you in the storage closet?

you wait for your dad to leave, probably heading back to his office or to scold some employee before you head towards the storage closet, knowing rafe is aware of the one you're talking about.

you sit down at the bench in the hallway, waiting until you hear the familiar footsteps of rafe walking down the hall.

“hi.” you stand up with a smile, pressing a kiss to his lips despite not being fully concealed, not too worried about the risk in the isolated area of the country club.

“hey gorgeous.” rafe opens the door and pulls you inside, listening to the chorus of your giggles.

“how was your lesson?” you ask as you both undress, ashamed that this will have to be another quickie, but knowing you need each other's bodies too bad to wait a moment longer.

“good.” rafe hums. “braxtons almost got his swing down.”

“aw, good for him.”

the moment all of your clothes are piled on the floor, the conversation stops abruptly as your lips meet each other's, kissing passionately.

“come here baby.” rafe presses your back to the door, hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, getting so easily lost in your lips.

“come on.” you giggle, pulling away after a couple minutes of kissing. “we can't take too long. dad almost caught me watching you.”

“mmm, you just can't get enough can you?” rafe laughs, hands reaching under your thighs to pull you up. your legs lock around his hips, feeling his cock already hard and pressing against your stomach.

rafes lips are on yours again to swallow your moans as he angles his hips then pushes inside of you, cock feeling just right now that it's at home in your pussy.

“quiet.” rafe reminds you as he pulls away. sure, the likelihood of anyone walking down the hallway is incredibly rare, but he doesn't want to risk not being able to fuck you anymore.

rafe waits for you to nod before beginning to pump his hips forward, the only sounds being what escapes through your clenched lips and the sound of skin slapping together.

“so good and tight for me baby.” rafe whispers, burying his head in your neck. his lips quickly find the spot that he knows drives you wild, sucking a spot that will be hidden from view underneath your shirt collar, adding to his previous collection of hickeys left from past encounters.

“fff… faster.” you manage to say in a soft voice. 

rafe responds instantly, increasing his pace as you begin to bring your hips up and down, bouncing the best you can while still being hoisted in the air.

“that's it, baby.” rafe praises your effort. 

“god, your cock is just-” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust. “so perfect.”

“wait.” rafe pauses suddenly with his cock buried as deep inside of you as he can get it.

he presses his ear to the wood of the door, waiting and listening as footsteps make their way down the hallway. “shit.” rafe whispers.

“keep moving.” you whine in rafes ear. “please.”

“baby, shh.” rafe places a hand over your mouth, but you're not satisfied, hips pushing forward and back to force rafes cock to continue moving, needing to cum.

“you're gonna get us caught, dirty girl.” rafe whispers harshly in your ear, but he begins to help you bounce on his cock.

rafe listens carefully as the footsteps pass by the storage room and make their way out the rarely used back door.

“they're gone.” rafe says, slamming you hard against the door, hips pounding punishingly hard inside of you, cock swelling inside of you, a tell tale sign of his high approaching.

“harder.” you squeal. rafe isn't sure he can push himself any more, but he is willing to try for you, glad when your back arches forward, chest pressing into his as you cum with a not so quiet moan.

the pulsating squeezing of your cunt around his cock has rafe cumming hard, letting out low groans himself as he finishes off with a few pumps, riding out your orgasms together.

“fuck, you almost got us caught.” rafe laughs, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips as he eases you off his cock carefully, hands staying on your hips until your feet are firmly on the floor.

“just can't resist you.” you giggle, grabbing your clothes and starting to get redressed. “i do hate all this sneaking around though.”

“you know…” rafe says, tugging his shirt over his head. “i say fuck it. let's just ask your dad if we can date. as much as i love fucking you after every shift, id like to also take you out and not just settle for texting you.”

“i guess it doesn't hurt to ask.” you shrug.

--

“dad…” you step into his office, rafe close behind you. “we wanted to talk to you about something.”

your dad stands up from behind his desk, his height imposing as his face twists to a sour one.

“and what would that be?” he looks past you at rafe.

“sir, i wanted to ask your permission to take your daughter out on a date. i will have her home by 10 pm.”

your dad's eyebrows raise up before he quickly wipes the surprised look off his face.

“fine.” he grunts out, eyes flickering between the two of you as you smile widely. “only because you're doing this the right way by asking me first.”

you attempt to disguise your laugh with a cough.

[joelmillerisapunk]

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz

Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount

Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.

Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?

Evening, Day 1

As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.

The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.

Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."

You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"

"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."

You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 

The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J

You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.

Evening, Day 2

You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.

—

"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 

You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 

As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 

Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 

The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 

As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 

Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.

Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll�� remember to check your blind spots���and your attitude.

You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.

As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.

Evening, Day 3

The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.

We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.

You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.

As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.

"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.

"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."

Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 

As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.

—

The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.

Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.

Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.

"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 

Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 

You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.

Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”

You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."

Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."

Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.

You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 

"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.

Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.

Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 

It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.

Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.

The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.

The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.

There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection

As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.

With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.

Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.

The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 

Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.

The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?

You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.

As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.

You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.

You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.

You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.

Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.

You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.

"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."

Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”

Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."

Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”

You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."

Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”

—

As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.

The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.

Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.

You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 

You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note

Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.

You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 

As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 

Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 

He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.

Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."

Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”

[headspace-hotel]

It's important to not force your human morals onto non-human nature, like "this creature, since it disgusts me, is bad" or "this creature, since it has behaviors I interpret as sweet and heartwarming, is good"

But if you study nature whether in life or in profession, nature will make you feel disgusted and uncomfortable, it's not necessary to act as if those feelings don't exist within you, because they are part of your encounter with the otherness of nature, and contain sensitivities that can be sharpened into their own ingredient to knowledge and awareness

Coexisting with discomforting parts of the reality of Nature without trying to resolve them into a moral or aesthetic framework you are happy with, reflects maturity

It is no good to "redeem" a hated animal if the redemption is another false idea of the animal as innocent and good. This implies that a creature's "goodness" is a valid reason it deserves existence. It is also no good to treat a beloved animal with hatred to make things fair.

A good example is with dolphins and sharks, dolphins were seen as good and cute and almost human, whereas sharks were seen as bloodthirsty killers, and this has cost the lives of sharks while dolphins are given more sympathy, so some people have tried to turn it around, portraying sharks as gentle and good while pointing out that dolphins can be violent and rape other dolphins.

A lot of dolphin behaviors are certainly upsetting, definitely it makes sense to be upset that an animal can engage in what appears like cruelty, but human morality isn't made to apply to non- humans, and a particular behavior is not the entire reality of what a whole species is like. Dolphins also engage in behaviors that humans judge as friendly, compassionate, altruistic, curious and playful

Think of a particular dog or cat and the variety of complex behaviors they are capable of—an entire species, made of individuals with their own complexity, must be far more complex. All of your emotional responses to dolphins are recognizing the immense complexity of these animals and how they are both like and unlike you, which is important to think about to expand your understanding of the universe

Fitting a creature to a flat framework for your own comfort or internal resolution is a disrespect to the creature. Certainly with sharks, everyone should know the facts about them rather than sensationalistic misinformation—shark attacks are rare, humans are not a preferred food for sharks, and most shark bites are exploratory investigations of a strange object or animal rather than feeding upon a selected prey item, however this doesn't mean sharks are "good" by human standards and it certainly doesn't mean sharks are "safe."

Seeing a video of an enormous Great White swimming placidly I feel that her presence is not just breathtakingly beautiful, but awesome—in the more archaic sense of something that inspires awe, something so great and powerful it could destroy your fragile human life without malicious intent. Likewise with any shark, it is respectful to recognize that they can be dangerous, it is disrespectful to think of them as ocean puppies and try to touch them and grab them.

Fear, disgust, anger—each is an instinct that functions to protect you and is reactive towards potential or perceived threats. Your brain allows you to evaluate things that cause these responses and choose how to act.

All parts of this whole are important because the natural world contains actual threats but knowledge and intentional behavior are important to protecting yourself.

For example, once when I found a tick crawling on my clothing, I felt disgusted and startled, which is appropriate, but my instinctive reaction was to immediately flick the tick off, flinging it onto the floor or furniture nearby where I no longer knew where it was. In this way my response didn't actually protect me but instead increased the level of risk

There are plenty of other examples—if someone sees a venomous snake they might think it is important to kill it, but trying to kill the snake is much more dangerous than leaving it alone, since the snake will try to defend itself. Spraying pesticides to kill bugs can unbalance the ecosystem causing more harmful pests than you started with because the natural predators are also killed. Using poisons to kill mice and rats will also poison their natural predators. Killing coyotes just causes them to disperse and reproduce at a higher rate, and killing wolves causes overpopulation of prey, which causes disease to proliferate and forests to be stripped bare of saplings that could grow up and regenerate the forest...

...And it also works the opposite way with human responses of affection, love and sociability: humans often may feel that they want to make an animal their friend, but often it would be cruel to take that animal into a human house and treat it as a pet. White-tailed deer may seem cute and sympathetic but hunting some of them is important for the health of the ecosystem, and trying to make them tame puts the deer and the humans in danger. Domestic cats are our friends but they are also invasive species in much of the world, destroying populations of birds, mammals and amphibians.

Domestic cats aren't serial killers or murderers either, they are just predatory animals that instinctively hunt and kill prey.

It is hard for facts about animals to be propagated while those facts must be presented as reasons the animal deserves to live or deserves to die. Virginia opossums are important to their ecosystem and deserve to exist. They also don't actually eat ticks, that came from a very flawed and sloppy scientific study that was contradicted by later studies, and sadly the reason this misinformation got so far is that it was "proof" that opossums are valuable and shouldn't be killed for no reason.

Wolves are keystone species and vital to their ecosystems, but it's not true that they never attack humans, there have been a small handful of wolf attacks on humans, it's very few and wolves generally avoid humans but they're not "safe." They shouldn't have to be "safe" to deserve to live.

Fact is, most animals can harm a human if they feel threatened or end up in an unlucky situation! Most animals can spread disease one way or another! We have to live with this, we have to learn and use strategies to keep ourselves safe, we can't just sterilize the world of animals because of a possibility that an animal could hurt someone, any more than we can cut down every tree because trees fall on people sometimes.

No one likes hearing that there's no way to for-sure eliminate all possibility of ticks from your yard, you just have to take precautions against them, but it's true! Just like there's an inherent possibility a wasp could sting you, an inherent possibility a snake could bite you, an inherent possibility a mountain lion could eat your livestock, but you can dramatically lower your risk of these things by knowing how to coexist with these animals.

[acciotaitlynn]

Ebb & Flow ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌₊ ⊹

╰ rafayel⌇fem!reader

╰ 18+ sexual content. unprotected sex/he filling u up. p in the v. oral; ꒰f&m receiving꒱ fingering. spoilers to myths. fishie whimpers a lot. scale play. u both like to submit. he a good boi.

╰ 4,263

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

On the rare and mystical Ebb Day, when the tides unveil the secrets of the deep, creatures from the ocean’s depths are carried ashore. Once upon a time, a sailor embarked on this extraordinary day and came upon an injured mermaid amidst the waves. With a voice as enchanting as the sea itself, she pleaded for her freedom, promising her most cherished treasure in return. As their eyes met and their worlds intertwined, a bond formed, weaving a tale of love and unity. The sailor and mermaid, drawn together by fate and the oceans whisper—lived happily ever after.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝

Rafayel’s moods were something you’d grown used to—his artistry matched only by the drama he could conjure. Yet today, even that familiar spectacle felt off-kilter. You woke to the sound of his ringtone, his usually vibrant voice laced with a heaviness that set alarms off in your mind; a weight that prompted you to rush over the moment he suggested a walk.

In less than an hour, he was already whining about the air being inexplicably sticky— “how do you guys even breathe?” he grumbled, pivoting to head home, seemingly indifferent to whether you chose to follow him or not. Once home, he had the nerve to tell you to see yourself out, especially after you had dashed over just because he sounded upset.

You were near the door, tossing a cutting remark over your shoulder, when he collapsed. There was an audible thud as he hit the floor. Part of you wondered if this was just another act in his dramatic reserve—but the feverish heat radiating from his skin told a different story. Concern swallowed your annoyance, fueling a desire to stay and see him through the night. Despite his initial protests, he eventually surrendered with a grumble about how your lingering presence would be your own regret. With that settled, you fetched him a glass of water, returning to find him asleep, sitting upright on the couch.

As you were setting the water down on the coffee table, a glimmer caught your eye—something shimmering softly on his face. You leaned in to discover a scattering of delicate, iridescent flakes adorning his cheeks and neck, trailing beneath the open collar of his shirt. Unable to resist, you reached out to touch them, settling beside him on the couch. The texture beneath your fingertips was astonishingly silky—almost ethereal. Gently, you traced one, barely grazing his skin as a realization dawned. “Scales…” The word slipped from you in a breathless whisper as you prodded one delicately, prompting a sudden, soft murmur from Rafayel that nearly startled you off the couch. He shifted slightly, but remained fast asleep. You knew you should stop, but the bright scales seemed to draw your fingers back, their allure irresistible.

Growing bolder, you applied a touch more pressure to fully feel their texture. his response was immediate—a low, almost decadent groan that took your breath away. Maintaining the pressure, you swiped your thumb across, eliciting a soft whimper that sent a jolt of arousal through you. You couldn’t resist the urge to repeat the motion–craving that sound again. But his hand caught your wrist. “On any other day, you wouldn’t be able to get close enough to touch me like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. His gaze was icy, almost mistrustful—a look you had never seen before, and it cut deeper than you’d expected.

“Are they scales?” you asked softly. Rafayel couldn’t shake the irritation that welled up upon awakening to your touch.

From the moment he had encountered this version of you, the bond between you two ensnared him effortlessly. And it didn’t surprise him in the least how much he enjoyed your company, just as he had in every lifetime.

Yet, he remained guarded, unable to fully open his heart. The memory of your past betrayal still stung—a persistent thorn despite the passage of time. And having you close on this day, of all days, was a decision he was already regretting. Your fingers brushing against his sensitive scales brought an unsettling familiarity, too reminiscent of a memory he preferred to keep hidden. Although he knew you didn’t mean to exploit his vulnerability, the resemblance to those past wounds was much too striking.

He was painfully aware of his behavior—his irritation with you evident in his expression and the underlying anger coloring his voice, but he just couldn't help it. “Shocking, isn’t it? All those stories about the Lemurians? They aren’t just fairy tales,” he remarked.

To your surprise, his revelation didn’t shock you. Instead, it felt like a dormant truth that had been whispered to your soul all along. "I thought Lemuria disappeared thousands of years ago,” you said softly. Rafayel's voice was still cold, but the edge had softened a bit as he looked away. “Think of me as a lost pearl that washed up on the beach,” he murmured, each word carrying the weight of unhealed scars and unspoken secrets.

You nodded, accepting his words as a spark of curiosity ignited within you. “So… Do you have a tail, then?” you asked, intrigued. His mesmerizing eyes locked onto yours. “Yup. Whenever I cry, my tears transform into shimmering pearls. A single song from my lips can doom anyone who hears it. And those scales you touched? They’re the sharpest weapons in the world.”

You stared in disbelief as a note of mockery crept into his expression. With a derisive snort, he turned away. “Cool. So now you’re mocking me,” you said with a smirk, reaching out to poke one of his scales playfully, only to have your hand caught in a firm grip.

“Touching me wherever is rude, stop it,” he admonished. Undeterred, you tickled a scale on the hand holding yours, making him squirm. “I see, I see. So Lemurians truly are ticklish,” you teased. “And humans truly are greedy,” he shot back, disdain in his voice. “Always ready to exploit other species once you discover their vulnerabilities.”

You hummed softly, a playful challenge in your eyes. “You’re right—I could take advantage and kidnap you right now if I wanted to.” His gaze met yours. “But why me?” Your fingers trailed along his jawline, your voice low and heated. “You can cry pearls, wield the sharpest weapons, and create breathtaking art. How could I possibly let you escape?” Your touch wandered down his neck, tracing the shimmering path that led to his collar bone. “I’ll lock you in a cage, and whip you daily, forcing you to finish your paintings. And if you want to eat, you’ll have to call me “Master.’”

You were surprised by your own audacity. You had longed to touch Rafayel like this but never dared until now. “Is that really what you want?” His serious tone caught you off guard, as if there was more weight to his words than mere banter. “W-what…” you began, but his whisper resounded in your ears, as if echoing within your very being— “Master.”

For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a faint glow above Rafayel’s heart, but it vanished before you could confirm it. His hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you onto his lap. He guided your hand to his face, pressing his feverish cheek into your palm as he murmured, “Help—I don’t feel so good.”

Despite the reluctance lingering in his heart—stirred by nervousness at exposing himself to you again—your teasing, possessive words had ignited something within Rafayel. He found himself instinctively pulling you closer.

Your other hand cupped his cheek, offering comfort as his arms encircled you. “How can I help?” you whispered. His grip tightened as he nuzzled into your neck. “Share your warmth with me.” Your breath hitched, your heartbeat pounding as you reached out to touch his scales again.

A gentle sigh escaped your lips as your fingertips met his heated skin. Your eyes locked with his, silently seeking permission as you lifted the hem of his shirt. Rafayel’s hesitation was palpable, a myriad of thoughts swirling in his mind. Finally, he reached a decision, raising his arms to let you slip off his shirt.

His heart soared at the look in your eyes—mesmerized, hungry, and entirely focused on him. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that look until he felt a small piece of himself begin to heal simply by soaking it in again.

The need to keep touching him was overwhelming, but concern crept in as the heat radiating from his body intensified. Beads of sweat formed on his skin and his breath quickened. Reluctantly, you pushed away gently. “We should stop… your fever is really high. You need to rest; I’ll get you an ice pack.” Barely off his lap and only a few steps away, you were surprised to be pulled back into his embrace, enveloped once more in his arms.

The look of complete shock on your face was the most endearing thing Rafayel had witnessed in a long time, sparking a tender smile from him. His voice was so sensually charged that it sent a rush of heat through your core, your thighs pressing together instinctively. “What? Weren’t you planning to keep me as a Lemurian pet?” he teased, a suggestive glint in his eyes as they traced the curve of your lips. “I can’t even run away… Do whatever you want to me.”

Though his words were incredibly tempting, your concern lingered—he could be seriously ill, and perhaps you should be taking him to a hospital rather than indulging in this moment. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on? You’re acting really strange…” you pressed gently.

“Every year, there’s a day when the tide lowers, and reverses its flow,” he explained, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “That’s when Lemurians are at their weakest... Even the frailest human could end us if they knew.” His lips brushed your skin with a featherlight kiss. “If you want to push me away—or even kill me—I couldn’t stop you.”

Startled, you pulled back to meet his gaze. “Rafayel…” He interrupted, a warning undertone in his voice. “You have no idea how dangerous this is, do you? There’s still time to find someone else to care for.” Despite his words, he drew you closer. “Not every fairy tale ends happily ever after. Maybe the mermaid set the trap from the start—to claim the sailor’s life,” he added, referencing the love story you had discussed earlier.

Rafayel watched you with a calm intensity, his fingers lazily twirling your hair. He knew you too well and sensed the flicker of fear in your expression at his words. Yet, as always, you pushed past the fear, your eyes turning sultry as you leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. “So? I’m okay with that. But—” you grasped his chin, shaking his head playfully. “Did you ever consider that you might be the prey in my trap?”

He remained silent, his beautiful eyes calmly assessing, waiting to see your next move. “Rafayel… I’m not sure why you said those things, but…” You captured his lips in a tender kiss, whispering, “I will never hurt you.” He stiffened beneath you momentarily before his hands found your waist, pulling you tightly to him as he kissed you again. “Do you promise?” The raw pain in his voice and the desperation in his eyes made your heart ache. “I promise.” Your hands looped around his neck as you melted into him, capturing his mouth in a kiss far more passionate than the last. His lips were just as soft as you’d imagined, each touch of them like the most powerful aphrodisiac.

The tiny whimpers and groans he let out only fueled your growing boldness, as did the way his body reacted to even the lightest touch of your fingertips. You tangled your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, holding him there. “I��ve decided on my first request for my new Lemurian pet—stay still,” you commanded in a low, firm voice.

The tone sparked something in him—a thrill he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It was a dynamic he had happily embraced many times before, and he could hardly contain his excitement as your gaze roamed his body with a renewed heat. “Define sit still,” he teased, his voice laced with anticipation.

You hummed softly, leaning in to trace a path along his scales with your tongue. He cursed under his breath, hips instinctively grinding against you, hands settling on your lower back. You swatted them away with a teasing reprimand. “No touching.” He pouted and let out a genuine whine, drawing a giggle from you. “You can try to get off by grinding against me, but that’s the only movement I’ll allow.” Your lips returned to his neck, teeth grazing his increasingly sensitive scales.

You hovered just above him, making him work for every bit of friction he craved. You delighted in the sight of him beneath you, whimpering and struggling to find release. The power you felt was exhilarating, heightened by Rafayel's evident enjoyment. But each time his hips managed to connect with yours, grinding his erection against your clothed core, it tested your resolve—the urge to have him inside you was nearly overwhelming. But this newfound game was too rewarding to rush.

You slipped your shirt over your head, tossing it and your bra aside. Your palms glided over his chest, your breath quickening as you traced the defined ridges of his abs and followed the soft trail of hair leading beneath his pants. He trembled beneath your touch, desire pooling within him as he resisted the urge to reach out and cup your breast. Instead, he stayed still, a symphony of groans and whines escaping him with every sensation you elicited.

Once satisfied, you leaned back, teasing him further as you squeezed one breast, and let your other hand glide through your folds. He didn’t attempt to rise to find friction, he simply watched in enraptured awe, plush lips slightly parted, breath quick, his hips making small, involuntary thrusts in response to your display.

“You’re being such a good boy,” you praised, surprised by the words that slipped from your lips. You hesitated, wondering if you’d gone to far, but Rafayel’s immediate, whimpering plea reassured you. “Say it again,” he begged, his desperation palpable. A grin spread across your face. “You're such a good boy…my good boy,” you cooed in his ear before standing to add your pants and thong to the growing pile on the floor.

Sitting back on the couch and spreading your legs invitingly, you motioned for him to come closer. “Make me cum, Raf,” you commanded softly, feeling a thrill of anticipation as he eagerly settled between your legs. He could scarcely tear his eyes away from your glistening core, so wet you were dripping onto the couch beneath you. Silently, he vowed to never have this sofa cleaned again.

“Is there anything you won’t allow me to do?” he asked. “Mhmm—no touching yourself." A soft groan slipped from him as he nodded, bending to press gentle kisses along your inner thighs. Rafayel remembered every spot that made you sing, reacquainting himself with them until your pretty little noises filled the room.

He knew you liked it a bit rough, and was pleased to find that hadn’t changed. Your hands tangled in his hair, your head falling back with a cry of pleasure as he boldly bit your clit, leaving behind a sharp, exhilarating sting.

He sighed in relief as his tongue touched you, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep, satisfied hum that sent vibrations coursing through your entire body. You were so soft, so warm and inviting, your familiar essence wrapping Rafayel in a comforting embrace.

The moment he slipped a finger into your warmth, your walls clenched around him like a vise, nearly pushing him to his own edge without a single touch. He paused for a moment, awestruck, before setting a gentle rhythm with his fingers.

His lips soon found their way back to your sensitive bud, sucking and nibbling with just the right amount of pressure to make your body sing in that perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Rafayel seemed to know every one of your sweet spots with startling accuracy, attuned to the precise pressures and motions that drove you wild. Your hips bucked, grinding against his face, coating him in your arousal as he groaned in delight.

You stroked his hair affectionately, watching his mouth fervently work over you as his eyes took in every part of you as you moved against him. His gaze, hazy with desire, never left your from between your thighs. “So beautiful,” you murmured, and he made that cute little whimper again, spurred on by the tightening of your soft walls around his fingers.

His own hips began thrusting into the air again as you rode his face with abandon, your body pulsing around him as he guided you through each wave of pleasure. Spent, you collapsed back on the couch with a deep sigh of contentment, looking down at him with a blissful smile. “Wow,” you breathed softly. “Yeah… wow,” he echoed gently, a mixture of awe and satisfaction in his voice as he moved to sit beside you on the couch.

You stopped him before he could sit, reaching over to unbuckle his belt, looking up with a question in your eyes. Understanding, Rafayel shed the rest of his clothes, letting them drop to the floor before settling beside you. Biting your lip, your hands eagerly reached out to wrap around his length.

Just like the rest of Rafayel, his cock was delightfully perfect, a promise of immense pleasure in both its girth and length. A sinful groan escaped both of you as you licked up the precum trailing down his shaft, savoring the taste. Within moments, you had him stuffed in your throat, unfazed by the challenge, a dopey smile curling your lips as you choked slightly. You pulled back briefly to spit on the tip, spreading the slickness with your hand. “I’ll be still this time,” you assured him softly before taking him deeply once more.

His hand immediately threaded through your hair to hold you in place, his hips setting a steady rhythm as they thrust into your welcoming mouth. Rafayel knew the rewards of patience and compliance—if he was a good boy, and did what you asked, pleasure awaited him.

“You take me so well, cutie,” he praised, a possessive edge to his voice. “I almost forgot how fucking perfect you are,” slipped out before he could catch himself, but you seemed too lost in the moment—or too cock-drunk—to hear or care, your face an embodiment of ecstasy as you continued to devour him.

He could have easily prolonged this blissful moment, riding the edge of his orgasm just to enjoy the sensation of being in your mouth a little longer. But his desire to finish inside you was undeniable. Gently, he lifted you off him, guiding you to straddle his lap.

The way you blushed and grew shy as he rubbed his cock through your slick folds brought a soft, appreciative smile to his lips. You were even tighter than he remembered, which required him to take things slowly as he pushed into you. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and he pressed gentle kisses to your cheek to ease the way. “Almost there, princess,” he murmured, his cock inching deeper.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered as he finally pressed flush against you, feeling your arousal seep where you were joined. Rafayel’s possessive praises sent a shiver through you, evoking emotions that mirrored his. Tears welled in your eyes at his words, the sense of being so perfectly filled by him heightening the intensity of the moment.

He gently took your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. “I want you to use me,” he pleaded, his voice raw with need, as he gripped your hips to encourage your movement. You searched his eyes, then nodded softly, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. It began gentle, as did your movements atop him. But as your lips and tongue paid homage to the scales adorning his skin, your hips began to rise and fall with fervor.

His hands supported your rhythm, gripping your ass as you rode him with increasing urgency. Watching you embrace your pleasure, tears of ecstasy streaking your face, urged him to test if you still enjoyed another particular sensation.

He slapped your ass, the sound resonating through the room. Your eyes shot wide in surprise and your movements faltered. “Riding me like such a good little slut,” he growled, delivering another, much harder, slap. He seized a breast, tugging roughly on a nipple, and your mouth fell open in a soft ‘O,’ a fierce blush spreading across your skin. “Didn’t I tell you to use me, cutie?” he teased. “I haven't felt that pretty cunt gush on me yet, so why’d you stop moving?” His words ignited something within you, compelling you to continue, your hips resuming their relentless motion in a quest for release. His voice was teasing, low and commanding, much like yours had been earlier in your game. You were surprised to find you enjoyed this dynamic just as much with the roles reversed. Your own voice came out in a small, slightly shaky whisper. “Sorry, Raf,” you murmured, earning a chuckle from him, your hips resuming their eager rhythm.

You were impossibly wet now, coating Rafayel's cock and abdomen in your shared arousal. He relished it, gathering the slickness and spreading it over your skin with a pleased hum. “Just like that, cutie,” he encouraged, punctuating his words with firm slaps to your ass and rough squeezes of your breasts. “You’re the only one who can make me feel like this,” he whispered urgently, his fingers lightly tugging your clit, making you tremble and whine above him.

He pulled you closer, your head resting in the crook of his neck as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. He chuckled softly knowing from experience that you were too lost in pleasure to register much of anything else. He allowed himself to speak more openly, assured that his words would float through your haze without consequence.

“This is always my favorite part,” he murmured, taking over the rhythm as he gripped your hips, moving you against him as you cried quietly, sniffling against him. “You’ve always had a knack for teasing me,” he said with a playful edge, “and once you discovered how much I enjoyed it when you took control—you were relentless.” Rafayel smiled gently, a fondness in his tone as he recalled a memory from long ago.

His tone became softer, words drifting through your foggy mind, carried by the gentle love in his voice. “I’ve cherished every second of turning my body over to you. I crave it, actually… Maybe it’s because of the bond we share— I’m not sure… But as much as I enjoy it, I secretly look forward to this moment every time…” Tenderly, he lowered you until your bodies were flush, grinding you against him with each deep thrust. “That moment when you melt in my arms, surrendering to my care and affection,” he continued, tightening his embrace around you. “If I weren’t so desperate to finish, I’d stay buried inside you, holding you like this indefinitely,” he teased as he cherished the closeness. You whispered his name on a choked sob, your mouth instinctively finding the scales on his neck as your tongue traced firm, deliberate paths over each one you could reach.

With every stroke of your tongue, Rafayel's movements grew more frenzied, but when you latched onto what had always been your favorite scale, sucking it softly, he lost control, his thrusts becoming desperate and fervent.

The sensation of his scales beneath your tongue, combined with the mind blowing ecstasy of him stuffing you full, sent you spiraling into another intense orgasm. You cried out into his neck, pressing yourself as deeply onto him as possible, grinding against him to chase every ripple of pleasure. Your movements stilled as his cock throbbed within you, but you squeezed around him in waves, helping to coax out every last drop of his essence, unwilling to let any go to waste.

As the haze of pleasure began to lift, a sense of reality seeped back in. You leaned down, licking Rafayel clean with a satisfied hum. He raised an eyebrow, grinning at you. “So you still do that,” he remarked, his voice gentle and teasing. You tilted your head in mild confusion, a small frown forming on your lips. He simply pulled you back into his arms with a quiet chuckle. "Don’t worry about it, cutie,” he murmured, kissing your forehead and tucking your head against his chest, fingers gently combing through your hair.

His touch was loving, almost reverent, and it combined with the deep sense of contentment humming through your body after your release, causing you to melt against him without even realizing it. Sleep began to overtake you, his arms enveloping you like the warmest blanket.

Rafayel didn’t quite know how long he sat there, gently rocking you as his hand caressed your hair, reacquainting himself with its texture. He was certain of one thing: you had ruined him once more… There was no way he could let you go now—not that he had ever been truly capable of letting you go... Nor had he ever really wanted to.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝

[pedroscowgirl]

unexpected encounter

aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

Warnings: smut! minors dni! p in v (wrap it up), creampie, power dynamics (he's your boss), teasing ? lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: You were off duty, enjoying a sunny afternoon in a tight, bodycon sundress that accentuated your curves, when you unexpectedly ran into your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

masterlist

a/n: i know it's fall but i just couldn't get this idea out of my head so here you go <3

(also it's 3 am rn and ill post my hugh story tomorrow for those who were waiting on it cuz now its getting a lil late)

The evening sun casts a warm glow as you step out of the café, its fading rays highlighting your sundress, a snug, bodycon fit that clings to your curves. It’s a casual weekend, far removed from the usual dark suits and crime scenes, and you feel a certain freedom in wearing something that shows off your figure. The dress is vibrant, hugging your waist and hips, and the neckline dips just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, nothing too provocative, but more than enough to draw attention.

You’re not expecting to run into anyone from the BAU, especially not your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner. But as fate would have it, there he is, standing near his car across the street, his gaze locking onto you as if he’s frozen in place.

You pause, surprised at seeing him, and the moment stretches out longer than you expect. Hotch, the ever-composed leader, is staring. Not just a glance, but a full-on, wide-eyed stare. His usual mask of professionalism cracks slightly as his eyes trace the lines of your dress, lingering briefly on the exposed skin at your neckline before snapping back to your face.

"Hotch?" you say, your voice light with disbelief, trying to break the tension. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

He clears his throat, his expression quickly shifting into something more familiar stoic, controlled. But there’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker back to you, like he’s struggling to keep his gaze in check.

“I could say the same,” he replies, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. "I didn’t mean to stare."

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “It’s alright, I’m off-duty, you’re allowed to stare.” You give him a teasing smile, knowing full well how rare it is to see this side of him.

Hotch seems to struggle with how to respond, his usual sharpness dulled for a moment. He’s not used to seeing you like this, out of your professional attire, out of the controlled environment of the BAU. He’s not used to seeing you as…anything other than an agent.

“I... uh… you look nice,” he finally says, and you swear you catch a glimpse of something like admiration in his voice, something he’s clearly trying to suppress.

You smile again, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, Hotch.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there, the sounds of the city buzzing around you. It’s strange, he’s your boss, after all. But here, outside the confines of the BAU, things feel different. There’s no case, no profile, no killer to chase. Just Aaron Hotchner, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Well,” he says after a pause, breaking the silence, “I should… get going.”

“Yeah,” you nod, not wanting the moment to end. “I’ll see you Monday.”

But as you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you for just a second longer than necessary, like he’s not quite ready to break the spell.

And neither are you.

Monday rolls around, and you’re back at the BAU, your professional self once again. You’re dressed in your usual work attire, nothing flashy, just your go-to blazer and slacks. But something feels off. Specifically, Hotch feels off.

You notice it almost immediately during the morning briefing. Normally, Hotch commands the room with his calm authority, making eye contact with every agent to ensure they’re on the same page. But today, he’s avoiding your gaze. Subtly, of course, but after working together for so long, you can tell. When he speaks, his voice is as firm as always, but there’s something different, an edge, a tension that wasn’t there before.

He keeps the briefing short, his eyes barely lingering on you as he assigns the team to tasks for the case. The second it’s over, he quickly retreats to his office, leaving the rest of the team exchanging confused glances.

“What’s with him?” you whisper to JJ, leaning in as everyone gathers their files.

JJ shrugs. “I have no idea. He’s been quiet all morning.”

Emily slides in next to you, overhearing the conversation. “Did you do something to piss him off?” she teases, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You roll your eyes but feel your stomach flip, wondering if you should tell them what happened over the weekend. You and Hotch didn’t do anything wrong, but there was definitely a moment. One you haven’t been able to stop thinking about either.

“I didn’t… exactly piss him off,” you say, your voice lowering. JJ and Emily exchange glances, their interest piqued.

“Spill,” Emily demands, her tone playful but insistent.

You sigh, looking around to make sure no one else is within earshot. “I saw Hotch over the weekend. Outside of work. I was, uh, wearing a dress.”

JJ raises her brows. “Okay…?”

“A bodycon sundress,” you clarify, feeling your cheeks heat up. “And it was… well, more revealing than what I normally wear around here.”

Emily leans back, clearly enjoying this. “So, you’re telling me Hotch saw you looking all hot and couldn’t handle it?”

You shrug, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely stared. I mean, he was stunned. He couldn’t even look away for a minute.”

JJ’s eyes widen in amusement. “No way. The Aaron Hotchner showed an expression on his face?”

“Exactly!” you say, laughing now that you’re sharing it with them. “I didn’t think much of it, but today? He’s been acting weird. It’s like he can’t even look at me.”

Emily grins. “You broke Hotch’s brain. Well done.”

JJ chuckles softly. “He’s probably just not used to seeing you like that, out of work mode. It might’ve caught him off guard.”

“Off guard is an understatement,” you murmur, thinking back to how he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “But it’s not like anything happened. It was just… a moment.”

“A moment that Hotch clearly can’t stop thinking about,” Emily adds. “You’ve thrown him off his game, and honestly? I love it.”

JJ gives you a more reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s Hotch. He’s probably just trying to re-center himself. Maybe he’s worried about crossing any lines.”

You nod, but part of you wonders if there’s more to it. The way he looked at you—it wasn’t just surprise. There was something deeper, something he clearly didn’t know how to handle.

“Well,” Emily says, grabbing her tablet, “this should be fun to watch. Let’s see how long it takes for him to figure out how to act normal around you again.”

You laugh, but internally, you feel that same curiosity rising. What was Hotch thinking when he saw you? And why does it feel like it’s affected him this much?

The rest of the day drags on, but you can’t shake the tension between you and Hotch. Every time you walk by his office or catch a glimpse of him from across the bullpen, there’s this undercurrent, something simmering beneath the surface. You try to focus on the case, to act as if nothing happened, but it’s impossible to ignore the way his presence feels so much heavier today.

By mid-afternoon, you’ve had enough. You need clarity, or at least to know that this awkwardness isn’t all in your head. So, when you notice Hotch heading for the break room, you seize the opportunity.

You walk in just after him, the door swinging shut softly behind you. He’s standing by the coffee machine, his back to you, shoulders a little more tense than usual. You take a breath before speaking.

“Hotch?”

He turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a second, there’s that flash of something, surprise, maybe even desire, before he quickly masks it with his usual professionalism.

“Agent” he says, the formality of your title jarring. His voice is cool, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back.

You step closer, trying to keep your tone casual. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… distant today.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, but there’s a tightness in his jaw. “I’ve been focused on the case. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms, feeling a mix of frustration and something more personal. “Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before his eyes return to yours. “I’m not avoiding you. I just—” He pauses, his expression faltering for the briefest moment. “I want to maintain professionalism, that’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard by the admission. “Is this about Saturday?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, confirmation, maybe. He looks almost uncomfortable now, like he’s been caught in something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I didn’t expect to see you outside of work,” he says carefully, his voice a little quieter. “And… I wasn’t prepared for how you looked.”

You feel a warmth rising in your chest, knowing now that you weren’t imagining things. “It was just a dress, Hotch.”

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, his hands resting on the counter behind him as if he needs the support. “It wasn’t just the dress. It was…” He hesitates again, as if he’s struggling with how much to admit. “It was seeing you outside of this job. Seeing you as… more than just my agent.”

Your breath catches slightly at his words. More than just an agent? You hadn’t expected him to be this honest, to admit that there was something more to his reaction.

“And that bothers you?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“It complicates things,” he says, his gaze finally softening. “We work together. I’m your superior. I have to maintain a level of professionalism, not just for me, but for you, too.”

You step a little closer, feeling a pull between the two of you that you can’t quite explain. “But it’s not just about professionalism, is it?”

Hotch’s eyes search yours, and for the first time, you see the conflict written all over his face. “No, it’s not,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The air feels thick with everything unspoken, everything hovering just beneath the surface. You can feel the distance between you narrowing, both physically and emotionally, and it’s like a magnet pulling you closer.

“I don’t want this to affect our work,” he finally says, breaking the silence. But the way he’s looking at you now, his eyes soft, his expression vulnerable, makes you wonder if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“It won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “We’re both professionals. But we’re also human.”

Hotch exhales softly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, like the weight of his inner struggle is easing. He still looks conflicted, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, a sense that maybe he’s not entirely ready to let this go, either.

Before either of you can say anything more, the door to the break room opens, and you both immediately step back into your professional roles as JJ walks in, oblivious to the charged moment she’s interrupted.

“Hey,” she says casually, reaching for the coffee pot. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly, exchanging a brief glance with Hotch. “We’re fine.”

JJ looks between the two of you but doesn’t press further. “Good, because we’ve got a new lead on the case. Hotch, we need you in the conference room.”

Hotch gives you one last look before nodding to JJ. “I’ll be right there.”

It’s a warm, sunny afternoon when you arrive at the park for a team’s casual get-together, organized by Garcia, who insisted everyone needed some downtime outside the walls of the BAU. Laughter and conversation fill the air as the team relaxes, scattered across picnic tables and blankets.

You’re wearing that sundress again, the one that hugs your curves, the one that made Hotch’s breath catch in his throat the last time he saw you. It’s a bodycon dress that highlights your figure, with just enough of a neckline to show off a hint of cleavage, and when you walk up to the group, you immediately feel his eyes on you.

Aaron stands across the grassy clearing, wearing a simple polo and jeans that fit him perfectly. The dark material contrasts with the sunlit background, casting shadows across the strong lines of his jaw and the slope of his neck. He’s looking at you, his expression intense, his thoughts seemingly far away.

He’s quiet—Hotch always is during these gatherings—but you know what’s on his mind. It’s the same thing that’s been lingering between the two of you for days, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. His eyes flicker from your face to your body, lingering on the dress, and you can see his jaw tighten. The rest of the team is laughing, eating, and enjoying the afternoon, oblivious to the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface.

As you settle down near the picnic table, chatting with JJ and Emily, you can feel Hotch’s gaze like a physical touch. He tries to be subtle, to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but you catch him glancing at you again and again. Each time, his eyes darken with desire, his body language betraying the thoughts racing through his mind.

You shift slightly, adjusting the hem of your dress, and you can almost feel the way his focus sharpens. Every movement you make seems to affect him, his grip tightening around his coffee cup, his posture stiffening ever so slightly. He’s trying to keep it together, trying to maintain that professional composure, but you can see him slipping.

From across the table, Garcia rambles about some new tech gadget she’s discovered, and Reid chimes in with his usual barrage of facts. But your mind is on Hotch, and the way his gaze hasn’t left you for more than a few seconds. You glance up, meeting his eyes from across the distance, and the heat between you is undeniable.

He looks away quickly, but you catch the way his fingers clench slightly into a fist before he releases them, exhaling as if to steady himself. You bite your lip, feeling a surge of confidence as you decide to tease him, leaning forward a little more as you laugh at something Emily says. You know exactly what you’re doing.

Hotch’s eyes flash again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to snap. His hand flexes against his thigh, and his gaze grows even darker, filled with barely-contained need. He wants to touch you, he needs to, you can see it in the way he shifts in his seat, the tension rolling off him in waves. But he can’t. Not here. Not in front of the team.

The rest of the group is oblivious to the magnetic pull between you two, but you know. And Hotch knows. His restraint is fraying at the edges, his focus divided between trying to keep up the pretense of professionalism and the urge to take you somewhere more private.

You catch his eye again, holding his gaze just a moment longer than before, and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch, the smallest hint of a smile, or maybe something more primal. His control is slipping, and he’s fighting it with everything he has.

As the afternoon stretches on, the laughter and casual conversation continue, but all you can think about is what’s going to happen when this gathering ends. When it’s just the two of you. When he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

And by the way Hotch keeps looking at you, his thoughts following every move you make, you know it’s only a matter of time.

As you pack up your things, you notice him lingering by his car, his eyes still on you, and your heart skips a beat when he makes his way over to you.

"Need a ride home?" he asks, his voice smooth but heavy with something more.

You nod, sensing that this is the moment you’ve both been waiting for. There’s an undercurrent in his words, a promise of something more than just a simple ride.

The drive to your place is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, charged with anticipation. Neither of you speaks much. There’s no need to, everything has already been said in the heated looks exchanged back at the picnic, in the way his hand brushed your lower back for just a second too long as he led you to his car. It’s there in the way he’s gripping the steering wheel now, his knuckles white as he tries to keep control, though you can tell that his thoughts are anything but steady.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw is clenched, the tendons in his neck tight as he stares at the road. His usual cool, collected demeanor is crumbling, and you know exactly what’s on his mind. You in that dress. The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he saw you at the park. The way you’ve been teasing him all afternoon, letting your fingers linger on his arm when you spoke, leaning just a bit closer to him than usual.

It’s like a silent game between the two of you—one that’s about to reach its breaking point.

The second the car pulls into your driveway, you can feel his restraint finally snap. The engine is barely off before Hotch is out of the car, quickly making his way around to your side. He opens the door for you, but as you step out, you can see the way his eyes are filled with a hunger that’s only grown stronger throughout the day. His hand is on your lower back again, guiding you up the steps to your door, but this time, his touch lingers. You can feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress, and it sends a thrill through you.

You unlock the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing, knowing what’s about to happen. You step inside, and the second the door closes behind him, it’s like a dam breaks.

Hotch’s hands are on you before you even have time to turn around. His fingers curl around your waist, pulling you back against him as his mouth finds your neck. His lips are hot and urgent against your skin, and you can feel the rough stubble of his jaw scraping lightly as he kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath is ragged, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he growls against your ear, his voice low and rough, filled with barely-contained need. His hands slide up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your dress, and the way he’s touching you, like he can’t get enough, makes your body heat up instantly. “Ever since I saw you in that damn dress…”

You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, his hips pressing against you in a way that leaves no doubt about how badly he wants you. His mouth moves along your neck, hot and insistent, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, hiking it up slightly so he can grip your bare skin.

“Aaron…” you breathe, your voice catching as you tilt your head to give him more access. Your body is already reacting to his touch, your pulse quickening, heat pooling in your belly. You want him just as badly, have been wanting him since the moment he first laid eyes on you in this dress.

You barely make it to the kitchen before Hotch lifts you up, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he sets you on the counter with ease. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body pressing against you, and you gasp at the sensation. His hands are everywhere now, on your thighs, sliding up to your hips, then gripping your waist as he pulls you even closer to the edge of the counter.

He kisses you hard, his lips crashing against yours with a need that makes your head spin. It’s a kiss filled with everything he’s been holding back, all the tension from the past week finally spilling over. You kiss him back just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands continue to explore your body.

His fingers slide under the hem of your dress, hiking it up higher as his hands trace the curve of your thighs. The way he’s touching you is possessive, almost frantic, like he can’t get close enough. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His hands slide up your sides, brushing over the neckline of your dress. “This dress… you have no idea what it does to me.”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, dark with need. “I wore it for you,” you admit softly, your voice breathless. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

Hotch groans softly "fuck you're such a slut for me" his hands tightening on your waist as he kisses you again, slower this time, but no less intense. "fuck yes aaron I am" you replied and his hands roam over your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress to touch your bare skin. You arch into his touch, your body responding to him in a way that makes it impossible to think about anything else.

One of your straps slips from your shoulder, and in an instant, Hotch freezes. His breath catches as he pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin. The strap falls, and your breast is revealed to him. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in.

“God…” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. His hands move to your shoulders, gently pushing the strap further down until your dress is hanging loosely off one side. His eyes flicker up to yours, filled with a mix of awe and raw desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

He leans down, his lips brushing softly over your exposed skin, kissing along the curve of your breast with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, soon, his kisses grow more urgent, more desperate, as his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin.

You moan softly, your head falling back as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he sucks gently, sending a surge of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as he continues his assault on your senses, his lips and hands everywhere at once.

“I can’t… stop,” he groans against your skin, his voice rough and filled with desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulls you against him, his erection pressing firmly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moves against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“I need you,” he murmurs, his voice low and desperate. “Right now.”

You nod, breathless, as you pull him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you slightly off the counter. His hands slide under your dress, pulling it up higher as he presses himself against you and takes off your underwear, his lips find yours in a heated kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

When he finally enters you, it’s like everything else fades away. The world outside, the past week of stolen glances and restrained touches, it all falls away as he moves inside you. His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, his lips brushing over your skin with every thrust.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his back as he moves faster, his control slipping as the need between you builds. His mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, your breasts everywhere, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

The strap of your dress falls completely now, both your breasts exposed to him, and Hotch loses it. His hands cup your breasts again, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he thrusts harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his voice filled with awe and desire. “Everything about you… I can’t get enough.”

You moan his name, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The way he moves inside you, the way he touches you, it’s all too much. You feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

And then, with one final thrust, you’re falling. You cry out, your body arching against him as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Hotch follows seconds later, groaning your name as he shudders, his body tensing as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high of it all. Then, slowly, Hotch pulls back slightly, his hands still holding you close as he looks into your eyes, his expression softer now, filled with something more than just desire.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice full of awe as he brushes a stray hair from your face. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to keep my hands off you after this.”

You smile, breathless, as you lean in to kiss him again, slow and deep, savoring the moment. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his lips, and the way he kisses you in return tells you that he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper

[kckt88]

God Is A Woman.

Summary:

Aemond has always had a thing for his brother's wife, and of course Aegon being the good brother that he is offers to share.

Warning(s): Language, Temptation, Consentual Infidelity, Threesome, Unce/Niece Incest, Brother/Brother Incest, Kissing, Body Worship, Smut, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Fingering, P in V, P in A, Lactation Kink, Breeding Kink, Muliple Orgasms, Mention Of Same Sex Encounters, Allusion to Child Birth.

AEGON x O.C NIECE x AEMOND

INSPIRED BY THE SONG - 'ARIANA GRANDE - GOD IS A WOMAN'

Word Count: 7944

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Aemond sat at the dining table, his one remaining eye observing the room with a mix of detachment and intensity. His gaze settled on his brother Aegon, who was leaning in close to whisper something into Vaella's ear.

The sight of her giggling and blushing, batting Aegon's hand away from where it rested on her thigh, stirred a storm of emotions within Aemond.

As Vaella leaned in to kiss Aegon on the cheek, Aemond felt a pang of jealousy swirl in the pit of his stomach. He wished it was him who was married to Vaella, not Aegon.

Despite knowing it was wrong to covet another man's wife, especially his brother's, he couldn't help the longing that gnawed at him.

Vaella's beauty and grace had always captivated Aemond, and her marriage to Aegon only intensified his feelings. He watched her now, her laughter like music to his ears, and felt a stab of envy as Aegon wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Aemond's jaw tightened as he tore his gaze away, focusing instead on the goblet of wine before him. His duties as commander of the City Watch demanded discipline and control, yet his heart betrayed him.

He tried to drown his thoughts in the rich red liquid, but the image of Vaella and Aegon together persisted, a constant reminder of what he could never have.

Vaella's laughter softened as she caught sight of Aemond staring at her from across the table. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, a mixture of longing and something she couldn't quite place.

Leaning closer to Aegon, she whispered something in his ear, her eyes never leaving Aemond's face.

Aegon, catching the note of curiosity in his wife's voice, followed her gaze to his brother. When he saw Aemond quickly look away, a smile spread across his lips. The sight of his brother, usually so composed and stoic, caught off guard was rare and amusing.

"Seems Aemond has a lot on his mind tonight," Aegon said with a chuckle, his voice just loud enough for Vaella to hear.

Vaella's eyes lingered on Aemond for a moment longer, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. She couldn't deny the sensation that ran through her at the sight of Aemond's lingering gaze.

Though she loved Aegon dearly, there was something about Aemond's silent, brooding nature that had always intrigued her.

Aemond, realizing he had been caught staring, felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. He quickly diverted his attention, pretending to be engrossed in his wine, as the conversations around him continued, his mother talking to Rhaenyra of Helaena’s happiness in her marriage to Cregan Stark and Rhaenyra’s joy at Luke and Rhaena enjoying their stay in the Vale and Jace and Baela’s success on Driftmark as they had recently welcomed their first child a girl named Laena.

There was a time when all of them sitting around the table like this as a family seemed almost impossible, but after the unfortunate death of his grandsire Otto over six years ago any plans to usurp the throne had since fallen by the wayside and upon Viserys’ death, Rhaenyra had ascended the Iron Throne peacefully.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of shame and frustration roiling within him.

He cursed himself for being so careless, for allowing his emotions to slip past his carefully constructed defences.

He could still feel Vaella's gaze on him, and he dared not look up again. Instead, he focused on steadying his breath and calming the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

But even as he tried to push the feelings aside, the image of Vaella's soft, curious eyes remained etched in his mind. He knew he would have to confront these emotions eventually, but for now, he would bury them deep, where they couldn't betray him again.

As dinner came to an end, Aegon leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I think I’ll stay a while longer," he announced. "A few drinks with Daeron sounds perfect."

Vaella smiled at her husband, then turned to bid goodnight to Rhaenyra, and Daemon. "Goodnight, Mother, Father," she said softly, exchanging kisses on the cheek with them.

“Goodnight sweet girl” replied Rhaenyra brightly.

Turning to Aemond, she asked, "Will you escort me to the nursery so I can say goodnight to the children?"

Aemond nodded silently, rising from his seat. As they left the dining room, Aemond was oblivious to the subtle nod Aegon gave Vaella.

The corridor was quiet, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. The tension between them was palpable, yet neither spoke a word. When they reached the nursery, Vaella pushed open the door gently and stepped inside.

Aemond watched from the doorway as Vaella approached the small beds where Aerion and Valaena lay sleeping.

Their silver hair gleaming in the candlelight, Vaella's face softened as she stroked their hair, pressing a tender kiss to each of their foreheads.

"Good night, Issa byka zaldrīzoti" she whispered, her voice full of love and warmth. (My little dragons).

The nanny, standing by with a watchful eye, bowed respectfully to Vaella. "Thank you, Elinda" said Vaella softly before turning to leave.

Aemond followed her silently as they made their way back through the winding corridors to her chambers. The castle was quiet at this hour, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the walls.

As they reached her door, Vaella paused, turning to face Aemond. "Thank you, Aemond," she said, her voice sincere.

Aemond inclined his head slightly. "Goodnight, Vaella," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vaella paused at the threshold of her chambers, turning to Aemond once more. "Aemond, please, come inside. I wish to speak with you."

Aemond hesitated, his sense of propriety warring with his curiosity. "Vaella, it is improper-"

"Please," she insisted, her eyes searching his. "It will only be for a moment."

Aemond took a deep breath, then relented. "Very well," he said quietly, stepping into the room. He moved to one of the chairs and sat down, fiddling with the edge of his gold cloak nervously.

Vaella gave him a grateful smile before excusing herself. She ducked behind a screen to change, the candlelight casting a soft glow around the room. Normally, she would have her maids assist her, but she didn’t call for them.

Aemond's gaze wandered despite himself, drawn to the silhouette of her body illuminated by the flickering light.

He tried to look away, telling himself it was wrong—she was his brother's wife, and he had no right to covet her. Yet, he couldn't help but stare, the shape of her form was mesmerizing to him.

It had been some months since he’d last had a woman to warm his bed and he could feel his body responding in earnest to the sight before him.

Vaella's movements were graceful, and Aemond's heart raced as he watched her, guilt mingling with desire. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath, but the sight of her was too powerful.

Finally, Vaella stepped out from behind the screen, now dressed in a simple nightgown that clung to her form. She approached him, her expression earnest. "Aemond, we need to talk," she said, her voice soft but firm.

He tore his gaze from her and met her eyes, trying to regain his composure. "What is it?" he asked, his voice strained.

She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I’ve noticed the way you look at me," she began, her tone gentle. "And I think we need to address it."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat, fear and hope intertwining. "Vaella, I-I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention."

Vaella simply smiled and shook her head, taking a step closer, her eyes holding a mixture of determination and vulnerability as she spoke. "Aemond, I like the way you look at me."

Aemond slowly stood, his breath hitching as she approached him. Her presence was intoxicating, and as she reached out to touch his scarred cheek, he closed his eye, savouring the gentle sweep of her thumb across his skin.

With a soft click, Vaella unclasped his eye patch, revealing the sapphire nestled in his eye socket, her whisper like a caress. "Sīr gevie," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration (So beautiful).

Aemond's heart raced in his chest, his hands twitching nervously at his sides. "Vaella, we shouldn't do this," he said, his voice shaky with a mixture of fear and longing.

Vaella's eyes softened, her hand still resting on his cheek. "It's okay, Aemond," she reassured him. "You can touch me if you want to."

His hesitation melted away under her gaze, and slowly, he lifted his hands to cup her face. The warmth of her skin against his palms sent a shiver down his spine, and he leaned in, his lips brushing hers tentatively.

As their mouths met, a surge of emotion coursed through Aemond, overwhelming his senses. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, but as Vaella responded, it deepened, a hunger and longing they had both been suppressing now finding release.

Aemond's hands slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as he poured all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. Vaella's hands moved to his shoulders, her touch encouraging him,

Aemond stood silently, his heart pounding as he watched Vaella's delicate hands move to unclasp the belt that held his weapons. The loud clunk as it hit the stone floor echoed around the room, resonating with the tension between them.

She then moved to remove his gold cloak and black armour, piece by piece, her movements deliberate and gentle.

Each touch sent a shiver through Aemond, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady. As she removed his cotton shirt, the cool air of the room met his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from Vaella's fingers.

When she lowered herself to her knees to remove his boots, Aemond's gaze never left her, the intimacy of the moment leaving him breathless, he could scarcely believe that this was real, that this was actually happening.

With each boot removed, Vaella rose to her feet, her hands running down the smooth planes of his chest, his muscles twitching under her touch. The sensation was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, each caress sending waves of heat through his body.

Vaella's eyes met his, her expression a mixture of tenderness and desire. She traced the scars from the training yard that marked his chest, her fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Aemond's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as their breaths mingled.

"Vaella," he whispered, his voice hoarse with longing and uncertainty.

Her hands paused for a moment before continuing their exploration, her touch light yet possessive. "Aemond, I want this, I want you" she said softly, her voice steady despite the intensity of the moment.

Aemond looked into Vaella's eyes, and he saw the same need reflected back at him. Slowly, he lowered his head, capturing her lips in a deep, fervent kiss, her hands now sliding into his long silver hair.

Suddenly the door to the chambers creaked open, and Aemond jerked away from Vaella, his heart racing in panic. Aegon stood in the doorway, an amused grin spreading across his face as he took in the scene before him.

"Aegon, I-" Aemond began, his voice filled with guilt and apprehension.

But Aegon simply laughed, shutting the door behind him and locking it. "I see that you decided to start without me," he said, walking over to Vaella and kissing her passionately.

“He is very eager-” whispered Vaella.

Aemond tried to apologize again, his words stumbling out in a rush. "I'm sorry, Aegon. I didn't mean—"

Aegon raised a hand to stop him, his expression turning serious but still playful. "I see the way you look at my wife."

Aemond blushed, his gaze dropping to the floor.

But Aegon stepped closer, placing a finger under Aemond's chin and lifting his head so their gaze met. "I don't mind it, brother. In fact, we both think you should join us."

Aemond's breath caught in his throat, stunned by his brother's admission. "J-Join you?"

Vaella nodded, her eyes warm and inviting. "If you don't want to, it's okay. You can leave, and we will never speak of this night again."

Aemond looked between Vaella and Aegon, his mind racing. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air. Aegon began to pull off his own clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a soft rustle. When he was fully bare, he stood in front of Aemond, his body confident and unashamed.

"Aren't you just a little curious?" Aegon whispered, his voice low and enticing as he pulled Aemond in for a heated kiss, the intensity of it sending shockwaves through Aemond's body.

Aemond's mind reeled, the conflicting emotions battling within him. But the touch of Aegon's lips, the warmth of Vaella's gaze, and the tension in the room were undeniable.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he allowed himself to respond, his hands moving to rest on Aegon's shoulders.

Vaella stepped closer, her hands joining Aemond's as they traced the contours of Aegon's body. The three of them stood together, the air thick with anticipation and desire.

“Vaella” moaned Aegon as she slipped her hands around his waist and stroked his rapidly hardening cock.

“Do you want this Aemond? Do you want us?” asked Vaella softly.

Everything Aemond had ever wanted was standing in front of him, and all he had to do was say say-

“Yes. I want you”

Vaella smiled and moved towards the bed with a graceful, unhurried elegance, her hands reaching up to the thin straps of her nightgown.

With a fluid motion, she let the garment fall, pooling around her feet and leaving her completely bare. Aemond stood speechless, his gaze sweeping over her body, mesmerized by her body.

"Isn't she beautiful, brother?" Aegon asked, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched Aemond's reaction.

Aemond nodded quickly, unable to tear his eye away from Vaella. Her pale skin glowed in the soft candlelight, each curve and line a testament to her allure.

Vaella motioned for Aemond to come closer, her eyes filled with a mix of warmth and desire. Aemond hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward, his fingers shaking as he unlaced his breeches.

As he struggled with the laces, Aegon reached out, his hands steady and sure, and pulled them off, leaving all three of them bare.

"Come, brother," Aegon muttered, his voice low and inviting, as he sat next to Vaella on the bed.

Aemond took a deep breath, the weight of the moment settling over him. He joined them on the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. The closeness of their bodies, the mingling of their breaths, created a heated atmosphere that left him exhilarated and terrified.

Vaella reached out, her hand gently tracing the lines of Aemond's face, her touch soothing and reassuring. Aegon leaned in, pressing a kiss to Aemond's temple, his fingers combing through his hair.

“Kiss her brother-” whispered Aegon.

Aemond leaned forward and pulled Vaella into a heated kiss. With a soft moan, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Aegon began pressing a series of soft kisses to Vaella’s shoulders as Aemond’s hands slid around her bare back, pulling her closer, as his kisses growing more fervent.

“My turn-” muttered Aegon as Vaella pulled away from Aemond who watched as Aegon wrapped a hand around Vaella’s throat and ran his tongue over her lower lip before kissing her passionately.

Aegon released then Vaella’s mouth and bent down to lick one of her nipples.

“Oh” muttered Vaella as she flung her arms over her face, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.

Aegon ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Come Brother-You have one, I’ll have the other”

Aemond leaned forward and slowly ran his tongue over one of Vaella’s nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff peak.

“A-Aemond, A-Aegon” gasped Vaella.

“Hmmm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suckle at her breast, gorging himself on her delicious mothers milk.

Aemond looked over at Aegon as they indulged themselves in worshipping Vaella’s breasts, their gaze locked upon one another.

Suddenly Aemond reached around the back of his brothers head and took hold of his roughly shorn silver tresses, pulling him away from Vaella and seizing his lips in a brutal kiss.

Savouring the taste the mother’s milk upon each of their tongues.

Suddenly Vaella let out an adorable squeak, Aemond looked and noticed that Aegon had his fingers inside her cunny.

“You should touch her too” exclaimed Aegon as his mouth once again descended onto one of Vaella’s breasts.

Aemond gently ran his hand down Vaella’s body and had to recite a number of the faith of the seven prayers to stop himself from coming when he felt how wet she was.

“I-Is she always-” rasped Aemond as he slipped a finger inside Vaella.

“-This wet?-yes, my wife-so sensitive” muttered Aegon.

“A-Aegon-please” whined Vaella as their eyes connected.

“Patience my sweet pearl” replied Aegon as his fingers began teasing her slick folds

Aemond watched with awed fascination as Aegon expertly fingered his wife, the way he used his fingers and thumb in tandem with one another to tease her little pearl.

Aemond knew that Vaella was close to her peak, as he could feel her cunny fluttering around the finger, he had inside her.

However, Aegon removed his hand and sat back on the bed, his amethyst eyes darkened with lust as he pressed his fingers against Aemond’s mouth.

“Taste her” growled Aegon as his brother took his fingers in his mouth.

“Delicious” muttered Aemond as he swirled his tongue around Aegon’s fingers.

Vaella clearly not happy at being denied her peak, began to whine impatiently.

“Aegon-“

“-Now wife. I want you to sit on Aemond’s face, whilst I suck his cock” exclaimed Aegon.

“Brother” exclaimed Aemond shocked and very aroused by the thought of his brother willingly putting his mouth-there.

“Before my marriage I indulged with a number of men, this is nothing new for me brother, trust me-I think you’ll like it” replied Aegon.

“We will take good care of you-Issa gēlenka zaldrīzes” whispered Vaella (My silver dragon).

Aemond nodded and reclined on the bed, his cock standing hard.

Aegon’s mouth was watering just looking at it, his little brother the absolute twat had truly been blessed.

The largest dragon in the world and a cock to match-no wonder he was so smug all of the time.

Vaella hovered above Aemond’s face, her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Aemond”

“So pretty-" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Vaella’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Vaella her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Vaella.

“FUCK” groaned Aemond as he felt Aegon’s mouth around his cock.

Devouring his good sister’s sweet cunny as she sat on his face was one thing, but to do it whilst his brother sucked his cock was other worldly.

He enjoyed the feeling of Aegon’s mouth around his cockhead, his tongue teasing his slit, as the salvia dripping down his shaft.

None of the women that he’d previously experienced had ever made him feel this good.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaella, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Vaella "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“T-That’s it, fuck-Aegon” breathed Aemond, as his brother wrapped a hand around his cock and began to move in sync with his mouth.

“Oh" whimpered Vaella; her chest heaving as she began to roll her hips against him.

“That’s it, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, thrusting his own hips.

Vaella was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that anyone passing their chambers would surely hear as Aemond’s nose bumped repeatedly against her pearl.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“Come for me baby, come foryour qȳbor” moaned Aemond (Uncle).

Finally, he felt Vaella’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaella’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

After a few minutes, Vaella moved off Aemond’s face and flopped down onto the bed beside him.

Vaella moaned quietly as she caught sight of Aegon sucking Aemond’s cock, she could feel herself getting aroused again, as she watched Aemond placed his hand on the back of his brother’s head, forcing him to take more of his cock inside his mouth.

Suddenly a naughty thought entered into Vaella's head and before Aemond could stop her, she bent down and began running her tongue along the part of his cock that wasn't in Aegon's mouth.

"SEVEN FUCKING HELLS" roared Aemond.

Aegon and Vaella shared a knowing look before they both began to take it turns slowly sucking Aemond's cock, taking him the brink only to stop.

"V-Vaella, s-stop-" groaned Aemond, he needed her, he needed her now.

"Yes"

“Come here” rasped Aemond, his chin still shining with her slick.

Vaella leaned forward and wiped her tongue across Aemond’s bottom lip before taking it in between her teeth and biting down gently.

“You naughty girl” muttered Aemond as he surged forward and pressed a kiss to her sumptuous soft lips.

One hand tangled in his brothers hair and the other in Vaella’s

“A-Aegon-enough-stop” groaned Aemond his hips stuttering, he could feel the urge to come building in his abdomen.

“Spoil sport” muttered Aegon as he wiped the spit from the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t want to spill in your mouth-”.

“And where do you want to spill your seed brother?” asked Aegon smirking.

“I-I w-want-“ stammered  Aemond looking around awkwardly.

“It’s ok-you can fill my wife‘s cunny with your seed-put a babe in her” replied Aegon.

“W-What?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Don’t you want your seed to take root, to see her all swollen with your child” muttered Aegon.

“B-But it would be a bastard” said Aemond.

“Not like anyone would be able to tell the difference, besides I know that you enjoyed seeing my wife round with child-imagine how good it will feel to know that it’s your child inside her”

Aegon was sure his brother was about to blow his load right there, judging from the way his eye rolled back into his head at every word that was spoken.

“Do you want that Aemond?” asked Vaella.

“Y-Yes” said Aemond as Vaella moved over his body, her slick folds rubbing against his cock.

Gods he was so hard, it was bordering on painful.

“Imagine-right here, your seed taking root, your babe-your son” said Vaella as she took his hand and ran it over her stomach.

Losing the remainder of his control Aemond seized her hips, and surged up, ploughing his hard cock into Vaella’s soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Vaella.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Vaella, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

“Aegon-husband-please” breathed Vaella as she felt his warm chest press against her back, his hands gently caressing her sides as he pressed a series of gentle kisses along the back of her neck.

“Do you want my cock as well?” asked Aegon, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

“Y-Yes, please. I want it-I want you both inside me” moaned Vaella.

“I need to prepare you first” whispered Aegon as he took hold of the small bottle of oil that he’d retrieved from the nightstand.

Aegon uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount of the oil onto his palm, spreading it over his fingers.

After discarding the bottle somewhere on the bed, Aegon reached down to her arse.

“Hm-yes, I-like it-please” whined Vaella, biting her lip.

“Be patient” urged Aemond as Vaella began to squirm against him.

Vaella gasped as she felt Aegon’s finger on her little rosette, and it felt so naughty, it was good.

“Yes, or no?” asked Aegon.

Vaella didn't even have to think.

“Yes, Aegon” moaned Vaella as he slowly inserted his finger into her body.

He worked in silence for a while, easing his finger in and out of her arse until she could take it easily.

Aemond began teasing her pearl with his fingers, his cock throbbing inside her.

Pulling out, Aegon added a second finger and brushed both around her hole.

“Yes, or no?” Aegon asked again.

“Aegon. I want you take my arse, I want both of you to fuck me until I scream out your names. I need to come, please. Do not deprive me any longer” begged Vaella.

Aegon let out a breath of air, but no words. Silently, he breached her arse once more.

Vaella screamed, “Oh god it feels so fucking good”.

Aegon continued to work his way into her tight space, his cock was like stone. When his fingers were fully inside her, he put his lips to her ear again.

“I'm going to breach your arse with my cock and fill you all the way up. It's going to feel so good, love, I can't wait for you to come around Aemond’s cock in your sweet cunt, whilst my cock shoved in your arse”

Vaella’s teeth were gritted, and she grunted low in her throat each time his fingers surged in.

“Yes” moaned Vaella loudly. Aegon slapped her buttock, and she wailed again.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy” moaned Vaella. She was pushing back against his hand, so he spread his fingers inside her, accommodating her to his size. At last, she was ready for him.

Aegon pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of her arse, and Vaella moaned in need, he pushed through her entrance and past her tight ring of muscle, swearing loudly as it gripped him unbelievably tight.

“Oh gods. Oh yes” moaned Vaella, flinging her head back. Aegon eased himself slowly into her tight anal passage, trying not to pass out from the sheer fucking bliss of it.  

Eventually, Vaella took his entire cock.

The three of them remained unmoving as Vaella got used to having both Aemond and Aegon inside her.

“I-I’m ready” whispered Vaella.

“We’ll go as slow-” muttered Aemond his hands resting on her hips.

“-as you want” said Aegon as he placed his hands on top of Aemonds and entwined their fingers together.

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Vaella as both Aegon and Aemond began to move, finding their rhythm and thrusting gently.

Both brothers moving in tandem with one another, a slow sensual pace, that drove Vaella to the brink of insanity.

"Faster, please" begged Vaella.

"Patience, Issa zaldrīzes" chided Aemond (My dragon).

“I-I’ve taken Aegon there before” admitted Vaella softly.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond at Vaella’s admission.

“I know but you’ve never taken us both at the same time” replied Aegon as he gave a quick shallow thrust.

“Yes, Aegon, just like that-" panted Vaella.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“Oh-Aemond you feel so good” whimpered Vaella as she ran her hands over his arms, his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Vaella" grunted Aemond, as he began to move.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Vaella "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me your seed. I want another babe-”.

Aemond knew exactly what Vaella was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Vaella wanted faster and he was going much faster now. His pace increasing with every filthy word that dropped from Vaella’s luscious lips.

“Fuck Aemond” groaned Aegon, the force of his brother’s thrusts moving Vaella on his cock.

“A-AEGON-“ screamed Vaella as she reached behind her and wrapped her hands around the back of his head.

She craned her neck back and dragged Aegon’s head towards her, she wanted to feel his lips on hers as she took both of their cocks.

Aegon released his grip on Aemonds hands and slowly caressed her skin until he reached her breasts, both hands squeezing them as his tongue moved against hers, his cock thrusting inside her.

Both of them were cock deep inside her and it felt glorious, it was just a shame they’d waited so long to do this.

“Faster-I can take it-I can take both of you-please” stammered Vaella as she released Aegon’s hair from her tight grip.

Aemond and Aegon shared a quick glance before nodding.

Now they were both quickly thrusting in and out, the force of their combined movements shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Vaella was meeting them thrust for thrust.

“Aegon-Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaella.

Vaella looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

“Make my brother a father-give him a child” exclaimed Aegon.

Vaella clamped down around Aemond’s cock so hard he could hardly move. That, combined with how glorious Vaella looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Vaella” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside her wet heat.

Aegon followed not long after, his cock twitching as he spilled inside Vaella, his head falling to her shoulder.

His chest heaving with every breath he took; he had never come so hard in his life.

“Aegon-“ whispered Vaella as he gently pulled his softened cock from her.

“You were so good” replied Aegon as he laid on the bed next to Aemond.

“Hm-so perfect for us” said Aemond as he also pulled his cock from Vaella and moved over so she could lay in between the brothers.

Their sweaty bodies pressed against one another as they came down from their high.

Afterwards, the three of them lay together in a tangle of limbs, the room quiet save for the soft breaths of Vaella, who had fallen asleep between Aemond and Aegon.

Aemond, still grappling with the intensity of the evening, found his mind unable to rest.

"Aegon," Aemond whispered, turning his head slightly to look at his brother. "Were you serious when you said you wanted me to get Vaella with child?"

Aegon nodded, his gaze steady. "Yes, I was serious."

"But why?" Aemond asked, confusion evident in his voice.

Aegon shrugged casually. "You’re so good with Aerion and Valaena. And since you have no plans to marry any time soon, I thought it would be nice for you to have a child with the woman you've been in love with since you were a boy."

Aemond tried to deny it, shaking his head. "Aegon, it's not—"

"It's okay to feel the way you do, brother," Aegon interrupted gently. "I know you curse the fact that you're a second son, that if you had been firstborn, then you would have married Vaella instead. I hate that I took the one thing you've always wanted, besides Vhagar, of course."

Aemond's heart tightened at his brother's words, the truth of them cutting deep. He had harboured feelings for Vaella for as long as he could remember and seeing her with Aegon had always been a bittersweet torment, but as Vaella and Aegon were the oldest their marriage was seen as a way to unite the family, especially after the incident on Driftmark.

"But I love Vaella too," Aegon continued, his voice softening. "She's the only good thing I've ever had in my life, and our children-I never knew I could create something so pure and beautiful. I can't give her up, but I can share her with you, if you're willing."

Aemond looked at Aegon, stunned by the sincerity and generosity in his brother's eyes. "What does Vaella think of this?" he asked hesitantly.

Before Aegon could respond, Vaella stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled sleepily at both of them. "I couldn't possibly turn down the chance of being sandwiched between two beautiful dragons," she said, her voice laced with affection and amusement. "But you two need to shut up and get some rest. If we want to increase the chances of Aemond's seed taking root, then we must be ready to lay together again very soon”

Aegon chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Vaella's forehead. "You heard the lady, Aemond. Let's get some rest."

Aemond, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, nodded. As he lay back down, feeling Vaella's warmth against him and Aegon's reassuring presence, he finally allowed himself to relax and drift off toe sleep.

In the weeks that followed, the bond between Vaella, Aegon, and Aemond grew stronger. Their nights were often spent together, indulging in each other’s pleasure.

Sometimes, Aegon would be content to sit and watch as Aemond fucked Vaella, with his own hand bringing him to completion.

It pleased him to see his brother grow in confidence as he began to take Vaella in different positions, his particular favourite was when he would watch Aemond take Vaella from behind, the raw sensuality of it was truly a sight to behold.

There were even times when Aegon and Aemond would take turns in experience their newfound desire with one another, but as Aemond wasn’t fully comfortable with fucking Aegon or getting fucked by him they only indulged one another with their hands and mouths.

There were also moments of soft intimacy when Vaella would allow Aemond to rest his head on her bare breasts and she would stroke his hair, whispering words of love and comfort to him as he spoke to her of the days events and some moments from his childhood.

Aegon never mentioned those moments, it was something private between Aemond and Vaella and he allowed it because he knew his brother needed it, as he himself needed it from time to time.

It wasn’t sexual, it was comfort and his sweet wife provided them both with what they needed without question and Aegon loved herall the more for it.

Given the frequency in which Aemond spilled his seed inside Vaella it wasn't long before she gave them both joyous news: she was expecting Aemond's child.

Aegon's happiness for his brother was boundless. He watched as Aemond's usually stoic demeanour softened with wonder and tenderness whenever he was near Vaella.

As the weeks turned into months, Aemond would gently stroke Vaella's swollen stomach, whispering words of love and promises to their unborn child.

Aegon would smile every time Aemond's face lit up with pure joy upon feeling the babe move within Vaella. It was a sight that filled Aegon's heart with warmth, knowing that he had played a part in granting his brother this happiness.

Deep down, Aegon knew that others might not understand or accept their unconventional relationship. The world beyond their chambers was filled with judgment and rigid expectations.

But Aegon didn't care. To him, this arrangement was an act of brotherly love and kindness. He had given Aemond the chance to experience the love he had longed for since childhood, and that was worth any scorn or misunderstanding they might face.

One evening, as they all sat together in the quiet of their chambers, Aegon observed the tender moment between his brother and his wife. Aemond's hand rested gently on Vaella's belly, his eye filled with adoration as he spoke softly to their unborn child.

"You'll be a great father, Aemond," Aegon said, his voice sincere.

Aemond looked up, his expression a mixture of gratitude and love. "Thank you, Aegon. I-I never thought I could have this. It means more to me than I can say."

Vaella smiled, her eyes shining with affection for both men. "We are a family," she said softly, her hands covering Aemond's. "And this child will be loved by all of us."

Aegon nodded, his heart swelling with pride and contentment. "Yes, we are a family. And nothing will change that."

Aegon and Aemond paced anxiously outside the birthing room, their faces etched with worry as Vaella's pained screams echoed through the halls.

Both of their mothers were with her, providing support and comfort, but the birthing room was no place for a man. They could only wait, helpless and hopeful.

Hours passed, each scream driving a dagger of fear into their hearts. Then, suddenly, the screams stopped, replaced by an eerie silence. Aegon and Aemond exchanged a glance, their curiosity and concern mirrored in each other's eyes.

Just when the silence became unbearable, the sound of a newborn's cry filled the air, bringing with it a rush of relief and joy.

Aegon and Aemond embraced quickly, sharing in each other’s relief when the door to the birthing room opened, and their mother, Alicent, appeared, her face alight with happiness. “A son!" she exclaimed; her voice filled with pride.

As the two men entered the room, Aegon went straight to Vaella, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. "You did wonderfully," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Aemond hovered awkwardly by the door, unsure of his place in this intimate scene. The maester and midwives bustled around Vaella, ensuring she was comfortable and cared for.

Once the maesters and midwives were finished taking care of Vaella, Aemond exchanged a curious look with Rhaenyra who nodded her head at him and gently requested that everyone leave the room to give Vaella, Aegon, and Aemond some privacy.

Alicent questioned why Aemond was allowed to remain, but Rhaenyra simply smiled, ushering her out of the room before closing the door softly behind her.

"Aemond, come here," Aegon beckoned, his voice warm and inviting.

Vaella, her face radiant despite her exhaustion, gently placed the tiny babe in Aemond's arms. "M-My son," Aemond whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek as he gazed at the newborn in wonder.

"What are you going to call him?" Aegon asked, his hand still holding Vaella's.

Vaella looked up at Aemond, her eyes shining with love. "His father should name him”

Aemond thought for a moment, his mind racing with possibilities before he settled on a name that felt right, a name that he’s always liked "Rhaegar," he said softly.

Aegon smiled approvingly. "A fine name."

Aemond carefully sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his son. His heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness and fulfilment.

In that moment, as he looked at his son and then at Vaella and Aegon, he felt a profound sense of belonging and love

After Rhaegar was fed and had fallen asleep in his cot, Aemond and Aegon lay on either side of Vaella, who was fast asleep. The room was bathed in a gentle glow from the hearth, casting a warm light on the peaceful scene.

Aemond, still absorbing the reality of the day, whispered, "It still doesn't feel real that I have a son."

Aegon laughed softly. "Wait until you have more than one child."

Aemond turned his head to look at his brother, his eyes wide with surprise. "M-More than one?"

Aegon shrugged, his tone casual but thoughtful. "It's really up to Vaella how many children she's willing to birth since it's her body. But we did discuss wanting to have a large family shortly after we got married, so who knows."

Aemond considered this, a mixture of joy and concern playing across his features. "Our secret would be harder to keep if I father more children with Vaella, they already question why my chambers remain empty most nights-"

Aegon turned to face his brother, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "That's why Vaella and I have spoken about moving to Dragonstone. She is heir to the Iron Throne, and as heir, the castle traditionally belongs to her"

Aemond furrowed his brow, his sense of duty conflicting with his desires. "I am the Commander of the City Watch. I can't just leave my post to travel back and forth to Dragonstone. And I don’t like the thought of being parted from my son, or any future children."

Aegon laughed again, his tone reassuring. "Aemond, you would be moving with us, if you wish. You could retire from your post as Commander of the City Watch and become Vaella and the children's sworn protector. That way, it makes sense why you would move to Dragonstone with us."

Aemond let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, a smile breaking across his face. "You’ve really thought of everything"

Aegon grinned, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "It was actually Vaella's idea. She's incredibly intelligent and resourceful. We're lucky to have her."

Aemond's gaze softened as he looked at Vaella, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Indeed, we are."

Alicent stood at a distance, watching Aemond, as he prepared to leave. Vhagar looming behind him, her ancient eyes observing the scene with quiet understanding. Alicent's heart was heavy with concern and curiosity.

"What is going on, Aemond?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Giving up your position as Lord Commander of the City Watch—it’s not like you."

Aemond turned to face her, his gaze steady. "Mother, I was grateful for the opportunity given to me by Rhaenyra, I tended my duty well, but I wasn’t happy."

"And being a sworn protector will make you happy?" Alicent pressed. "I know you, Aemond. You are not one to stand idle, waiting for threats. You have to keep busy."

Aemond's eye softened slightly. "There is plenty on Dragonstone to keep me busy. Surely, you must know that I don't just love training with the sword. I also love to learn. The library on Dragonstone has items and histories from Old Valyria that I've longed to read ever since I was a child. And ensuring the safety of the heir to the Iron Throne is an important role."

Alicent scoffed, her suspicion clear. "I see how you look at Vaella." She stepped closer, her grip firm as she took hold of his arm. "Please tell me that Rhaegar is not your son."

Before Aemond could respond, Rhaenyra's voice cut through the tension. "All set for the journey to Dragonstone?"

Aemond nodded, turning away from his mother. "Yes, everything is ready, Your Grace"

Rhaenyra's presence was commanding as always, her eyes holding a knowing glint. "Vermithor and Sunfyre have already taken wing, and the hatchling dragons are already on board the ship."

Aemond bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Your Grace. I hope my replacement as Lord Commander of the City Watch will live up to the high standard I've tried to set."

Rhaenyra smiled. "I have faith in Daeron. And thank you, Aemond, for becoming Vaella's sworn protector, it warms my heart to know that she will have you at her side"

Aemond nodded, his resolve firm. "It is my honour."

He turned to bid farewell to his mother. "Goodbye, Mother. I will write as often as I can."

Alicent's eyes were filled with unspoken words, but she nodded, a tight smile on her lips. "Be safe, Aemond."

With one last glance at his mother and sister, Aemond climbed the rope ladder attached to Vhagar's saddle. He strapped himself in, taking a deep breath before giving the command. "Sōvēs" (Fly).

Vhagar's mighty wings unfurled, and with a powerful beat, she lifted into the sky.

Rhaenyra and Alicent stood side by side, their eyes fixed on the receding form of Vhagar as the ancient dragon flew above the ship sailing through Blackwater Bay. The powerful strokes of Vhagar's wings stirred the air, creating ripples across the water below.

Alicent broke the silence first, her voice low but insistent. "You know, don't you?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her expression one of polite curiosity. "Know what?"

"That Rhaegar is really Aemond's son," Alicent stated, her tone a mix of accusation and despair.

Rhaenyra's lips curved into a serene smile. "I know nothing of the sort."

Alicent pressed on, her voice rising slightly. "It's wrong, Rhaenyra. The boy is illegitimate and a violation of the sacred vows of marriage."

Rhaenyra paused for a moment, considering Alicent's words before she placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Try not to think about it too much. They have their legitimate heir, and it's not like anyone can tell."

Alicent tried to argue further, her moral compass sharply pointed. "But—"

Rhaenyra shushed her gently, her voice soothing yet firm. "As long as our children are happy, that's all that matters."

Alicent huffed, clearly annoyed but unable to refute Rhaenyra's logic. The tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly as she sighed.

"Come," Rhaenyra suggested with a playful glint in her eye. "Let's have some cake. I'm feeling quite peckish."

Alicent looked at her, torn between her principles and the reality of the situation. Finally, she relented, her expression softening. "Alright. Cake it is."

Living on Dragonstone was a breath of fresh air for Aemond. He still woke up at the arse crack of dawn to train with the sword, often dragging a protesting Aegon along with him a time or two.

However, Aemond found his true element in the library. The scrolls and ancient texts were everything he had dreamed of.

He would often sit with Rhaegar on his chest, reading to his son from a book composed entirely in High Valyrian, and even though he was just a babe, Rhaegar loved nothing more than falling asleep listening to his father’s voice.

Aemond had his own chambers, but he rarely used them and even Vhagar seemed much happier with the warmth and all the sleep the old girl could ever want.

Once Vaella was sufficiently healed from birthing Rhaegar, she welcomed both Aegon and Aemond, and the three of them resumed their intimate encounters.

One of Aemond’s favourites was their encounter in the hot springs in an underground cavern. The warmth and seclusion added a new layer of intimacy and excitement to their bond.

Aegon in particular enjoyed himself as swimming meant no clothes, and more often than not no clothes led to far more exciting things.

When Rhaegar turned two, Vaella expressed her desire for another child. This time, Aemond fathered a sweet daughter, whom they named Vharla in honour of his dragon.

A year later, he fathered another son with Vaella, named Aerys. The final babe Vaella birthed was a daughter, fathered by Aegon, who they named Daenys.

After six children, Vaella decided she’d had enough of birthing children and was content to enjoy her life with her husbands.

Yes, husbands. Because Aegon may or may not have sneakily arranged for the three of them to marry in a traditional Valyrian ceremony, with only Rhaenyra, Daemon, Helaena, and Cregan as witnesses.

If anyone dared to ask him about it, Aegon would deny all knowledge of such an event taking place and trace the scar on his palm with subtle fondness, a reminder of the sacred vow shared by three dragons in love.

[spotsspeciall]

Factory meetings - LN4

vol. 2

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: Lando makes a move to Red Bull for 2024 and you work in the Red Bull factory. You meet him, and he’s a dick. But something inside you, needs him. 

Notes: Shoutout to @f1goat and the “His teammate” series, for the inspiration!!  Fair warning, I'm talking alittle shit about McLaren, but I am a McLaren girly and It’s all lies, I mean nothing by it! I also made up some gibberish about the car, since I don’t know how everything really works haha. This was also longer than I expected, but I can honestly say I'm pretty proud of it.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it folks!) p in v, pet names, language.

word count: 7.3k

masterlist

You had been working at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes for 2 years. After getting your degree in mechanical engineering, you grabbed the first opening in Red Bull. And now you had built your way up to your current position. 

You were sitting on the chair, staring at the little metal pieces in front of you. Trying to figure out the best way to puzzle them together, and make the most out of the car.

Your job was to plan, and build components in the car. And when you gained your current position at the factory, you helped with the success of the RB19. 

Working in the factory, you rarely met the drivers. They were here a lot for the simulator and meetings, but your paths rarely crossed. You didn’t need to have contact with the drivers, so you didn’t. Only seeing them from afar, when the whole factory came together for a meeting.

Monday morning, just over a week since the last race in Abu-dhabi, the RB19 had been a huge success. And you were working hard to finish the last details on the RB20 before the new season, working even harder than you did on the RB19. Trying to make the RB20 even better, as impossible as that sounds. 

You had a goodbye party for Checo on Friday, as he was retiring. And Christian Horner had announced that Lando Norris was taking his seat.

You had never met Lando, only seen him when you watched the races. And from what you had heard about him, he was kind of a dick. 

You and the other women working for Red Bull had formed a strong bond, you and the Red Bull media girl, Sophie, were basically best friends. And since she was on the track every race weekend, she had some encounters with Lando. 

She said he was constantly grumpy. He only cared about racing, and the fact that he hadn’t had a win yet, already being in McLaren for 5 years, it started taking a toll on him. 

He used to be a kind and sweet person. Loving to chat to people, and loving the interaction with his fans. He was just an all around loving guy. But when his fist win never came, and 

The McLaren car never got faster. He turned mean and angry, and stopped caring about anything other than racing. And when Christian gave him a nice offer to fill Checo’s seat, he jumped on it, no hesitation. 

You picked up your tools and started assembling the pieces again, to see if your mind had any ideas. 

You had your normal shitty Monday morning, and you didn’t have time to properly get ready. So you were sitting here in the Red Bull work clothes, your hair was up, but it had fallen out of your bun and was falling in your face, and you kept trying to pull it behind your ears. You didn’t have time for either makeup or to put your contacts in, so it was glasses today. But it wasn’t that bad, everyone saw you like this every Monday (and most other days too)

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was visiting the Factory today. To have a tour of the factory, and meet everyone working there. You didn’t hear the door open as you were staring a whole into the piece you just assembled. But you did hear your name being called. 

You turned around and met the eyes of Christian, but your eyes quickly looked over at the man standing beside him. You hurried to stand up and rip the gloves off your hands. Stretching out your hand to shake his. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit before shaking it, staring into your eyes the whole time. 

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”

“Lando”

Yeah, he seemed pretty grumpy. 

As you pulled your hand away, Christian started explaining who you were, and what your job was. You didn’t know if Lando was even listening because he was still just staring at you. 

Christian then turned to you and asked you how the work was going. 

“Oh yeah!” You were blocking their view of the piece, so you turned to walk around the table to show them. 

You started explaining what the piece was and what your goal for it was, as you put on a new pair of gloves to show them the piece. 

Putting it back down, Lando looked back at you. A small smile had made its way to his lips. 

“Is that going in my car?”

“Well yeah, it’s going in both cars”

“But, I’ll only drive the car if you’re the one working on it” He was now smirking at you and turned to Christian. “I’m serious” His smirk was gone.

“Don’t worry Lando, I’ll make sure of it” He said with a smile as he patted his shoulder. “We should move on to look at the paint booths” 

As they headed towards the door, Lando turned around before he left. His face was unreadable, and he had a look in his eyes you had never seen. You had never been more confused, and it took you a while to get back into the right headspace for you to finally crack the code.

There were only a few days left before Christmas break, and you hadn’t seen Lando since that first time. 

Today had been a stressful day as you tried to do as much as you could in the little time you had left. You were standing in front of the computer, looking at the readings from a recent test, and there were a few numbers off. The frustration got to you, and you pulled off your glasses, rubbing the bride of your nose. Before you shoved the keyboard away and buried your face in your arms on the desk as you groaned in frustration. 

Lando had one last visit to the simulator before break. And before he left for the day, he decided to see if you were there. He was mesmerized by you when he first saw you. Your hair was falling in your face, and the glasses framed your face perfectly. He noticed that you had no makeup on, but you were absolutely breathtaking. And when you started talking about your work, he saw the passion in your eyes. He felt a small pull in his chest, and felt like his old happy self for just a moment when he looked at you. 

But it quickly disappeared, and he realized his new mission. He needed to have you. 

When he opened the door, he heard a groan as he saw your face land in your arms on the desk. The desk was quite high, and as you were bent over it, your ass was on display for him. 

He had to fight himself to not go right over and touch you. But he still walked over and leaned on the desk beside you.

“Something wrong baby?”

You quickly looked up, shocked that someone was in the room with you, and why were they calling you “baby”?

When you met Lando’s eyes, you rolled your own. You had already made up your mind about him, and you were not surprised he was acting like this. 

You heard a low chuckle coming from him as he saw you rolling your eyes. 

You leaned closer to him, really close. He could feel your breath.

“Don’t call me baby”

You could see he was a little shocked at the closeness, so you smirked to yourself and stretched your hand out to grab your glasses that had landed beside him. 

Leaning back, you put your glasses on. “And if you must know, I didn’t get the result I wanted” 

You pointed to the numbers on the screen. His mouth was slightly open as he still looked a little shocked, but he turned his head to look at the numbers. 

“I don’t know what any of the numbers mean” He turned to look at you.

You laughed before replying “Yeah, I know” 

After closing your front door and throwing yourself on the couch. You pulled up your phone and sent a text to your best friend Sophie. 

“Lando came by the Factory today and called me baby…”

She answered right away.

"BRO!"

“No way!”

“He’s probably trying to get in your pants”

“WHAT?”

“NO HE IS NOT”

“He’s probably just trying to get a reaction out of me”

“Why would he want to get in my pants when he has models drooling over him?”

“Stop it Y/N”

“You are literally drop dead gorgeous.”

“Lando wishes he could get you! But don’t let him use you like that!”

“hahahaha”

“You’re the best Sophie”

“But yeah, he will not be getting anywhere near these sexy pants!”

“YEAHHHH GIRL”

“go piss girl”

“hahaha”

Closing your phone, you laughed to yourself. And when you laid down in bed, and closed your eyes. You couldn’t help when your sleepy brain started thinking about him. 

You looked down. Seeing your naked body, tits jumping at the movement you were making. You saw your hands spread out on the lower abdomen of the man under you. You saw his hands groping your thighs, hips, tits. And when one of his hands traveled up to grab your jaw, you met his eyes. Lando. 

Waking up, you sat up in bed, hand flying to your jaw.

As your breathing calmed down, you realized the dream. Running the images through your head over and over again. And that's when you noticed just how turned on you were. Your panties totally soaked, and you felt hot.

Landing back in bed you groaned.

“Fuck you brain. That was so fucked up”

You rubbed your hands over your face before getting out of bed. Just a few more days of work before break. 

Your brain had sneaked in thoughts about Lando all through the break, much to your dismay. And he always showed up when you were close to an orgasm by your own hand. And one time, his name slipped out in a whisper. But you would try to deny yourself that it ever happened. 

And when it was time to go back to work, you felt like it had been long enough for you to forget everything, just praying you didn’t have to see him for a while.

And you were lucky for once. The end of January was nearing, and you had yet to see him. But you knew it was not long before you would.

The start of February was when the car was launching. And you had worked your ass off to finish the last bits, and the tests and readings were good, great even. 

There would be a reveal of the finished car in the factory, for all employees, before it was going to be a public launch. And you knew reveal day meant Lando. But you would be fine, all of the employees would be there, no way you would have any contact with him. 

And when the day finally arrived you were excited. The RB20 was going to be revealed, a car you helped make, and that was all you could focus on. 

You and Sophie were standing together up at the front of the crowd, looking at the car covered in a protective sheet. Christian got up beside the car and started his speech, and then he reached the moment where he introduced the two drivers for the team. Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, and the new Lando Norris.

As he walked up beside the car, he was dressed in the Red Bull racing suit, and you couldn’t help but admire him in it. It wasn’t wrong to think the man looked good, incredibly good. You knew he was still an asshole, but you did have eyes. 

Max had his speech, and then it was Lando’s turn. It was a good speech, talking about how he was ready for something new, a more competitive car. He then started thanking the people working on the car, and he locked eyes with you, and held it until he was finished speaking. 

Lando and Max then lifted the sheet off the car to reveal it. And the crowd started clapping. You marveled at the car for a minute, feeling proud. But you felt his eyes on you. So you looked back at him, and you saw that stupid smirk on his face, he then had the audacity to give you a wink. You rolled your eyes at him, and when you looked back at him, he had a genuine smile on his face, and a glint in his eyes. And for just a moment, butterflies fluttered in your stomach, before you were interrupted with Christian speaking again.

You were standing in front of the car, looking down at it in admiration. The “party” had been moved to a different room, where food and drinks were served. And when you found a quiet moment, you slipped away to go look at the car. 

You were all alone as you squatted down to get a better look at the car, and the details of it. You couldn’t believe you had a hand in building it. This was Max’s car, with the big, red number 1 on it.

Standing back up, you felt a hand slide its way to your lower back. Shocked, you turned to look at the person beside you. Of course. Lando. 

He had that typical smirk on his face as he spoke to you in a low tone. 

“Hope you did a lot of work on my car too” “I was serious when I said I will only drive it if you have”

You rolled your eyes again, it was something he really brought out of you. 

“I have!” You put on some fake excitement in your tone. “I even put a little extra work into your car” You gave him a suggestive wink.

“Oh, so my car might be a little faster?” He said in a hushed tone, like you were sharing a secret. 

“Yeah” You nodded at him, and pointed to the car in front of you. “This is your car right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “No, this is Max’s”

“Oh shit, guess I put it in the wrong car then” You shrugged your shoulders as you couldn’t hold your laughter anymore. 

You turned to walk away, leaving the hold he still had on your lower back. The place where his hand had been was burning hot. And when he saw you taking quick steps to get away, he hurried to follow after you. 

“Baby, that was not nice” He said with a small pout as he finally caught up with you. 

You stopped in your tracks. “I told you to stop calling me that” 

“Oh you look cute when you’re angry” His amusement was clear on his face. 

If you weren’t angry before, you sure were now. You groaned as you started walking away from him again. And before you entered the door to the party, he shouted to you.

“Can’t wait to see you again soon baby!” You could hear the grin on his face. But you just opened the door and walked inside, hoping to not see him for the rest of the night.

Just a week after, you were back at work, looking over some data on the computer, when you heard a knock at the door, and then it opened and closed. 

Turning around, you were met with Christian. “Oh hey Christian!” “Wasn't expecting you to be here!”

He smiled at you, “I am here to ask if you’re free to have a meeting in my office?”

“Right now?”

He looked down at the expensive watch around his wrist. “Yes”

“Um, yeah sure!” “I’m just going to-” You trailed off as you pressed a few buttons on the computer, before turning it off and walking towards Christian. “Shall we?”

Sitting down in the chair opposite his desk, it all started to become a little intimidating. You waited for him to speak as he looked at a few papers, before lifting his head and meeting your eyes. 

“Y/N” “First, I want to formally thank you for your work on the RB19. You made the car what it was. Great work” “And I also want to thank you for the work you’ve put into the RB20. I know it will be even better than the 19” He smiled at you, and you smiled back as you nodded, silently thanking him for his words. 

He continued, “I have been talking with Lando Norris, and after he had a test in the car, and felt how it worked. And after he also saw how you worked on it, he has asked for you to be his no.1 mechanic.” He paused, waiting for your response.

“No.1 mechanic? as in, at every race, in the garage, being the head mechanic on his car?” You were shocked, confused.

“Yes.” He gave you a warm smile. “When he suggested it, I totally agreed.” “It would be a perfect job for you, and with all the work you have put in, the least I can do for you is to give you a chance to be with the car at every race.” “So, do you want the job?”

You didn’t even think about the fact that Lando was the one to suggest the job for you. You just focused on the fact that you could be the no.1 mechanic. 

“Yes” “Yes I do.” A big smile grew on your face.

“Perfect!” Christian clapped his hands together, and picked up the papers he previously looked at. “Take the time you need to read through them before signing” 

Taking the papers in your hands, you read through it. And everything looked perfect. So you signed where you needed to. And handed the papers back to Christian. 

“Thank you so much for this opportunity!” “I can’t wait to get started” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Good!” “Can’t wait to see you on the track”

He then told you the plan heading forwards. You had plenty of meetings coming up. You needed to know what to expect in the garage. And you had a few meetings with the people working in the garage. And after all of that was finished, you were headed to the pre-season testing in Bahrain. 

Arriving in Bahrain, you felt prepared. And you were even more happy to finally join Sophie at work, as you walked into the garage together. 

Testing had been going pretty great so far, you only needed to do a few tweaks on the car to see if the performance was different. 

On the other end, Lando had been tolerable. He had his usual flirty, teasing persona around you. But now that you worked together in a small garage, he had toned it down a bit, much to your pleasure. 

But when you got a moment alone, he always sneaked up on you and rested his hand on your lower back, called you baby, and did everything to annoy you. Much to your frustration.

You had been single for a few years. And you hadn’t slept with too many people after. But now it had been a really long time since last. Too busy at work to even care, but you were growing more and more pent up and frustrated. And this asshole resting his hand on your lower back was not helping. It was also not helping that he looked drool worthy all the time.

What was helping, was the fact that he was just that, an asshole. But you had no excuse for yourself when you were alone at night, and you just stopped caring. It made you cum fast, and you were happy with that. So you kept thinking about him every time, while whispering his name under your breath. 

It was the fourth race of the season, and you were in Japan. The previous races were good to Lando, who had gotten a podium on each one, but no win yet. But he was good in Japan, he knew this could be the one.

It was early on Thursday, and when Lando walked into the garage, he found you working on the car, alone. 

You were so focused as you lay bent over the nose of the car, trying to screw something that was in a tricky position. When Lando saw the sight of you like that, bent over, legs spread, he felt his dick twitch. 

He quickly turned his head to look around for the sign of any people, seeing no one, he walked up to you, close enough so your feet were almost touching. Looking down at you, he noticed you still didn’t know he was there, so he cleared his throat to get your attention. 

When you heard the sound, it spooked you, and you went to stand up from the compromising position you were in. But you didn’t know someone was standing right behind you. So when you lifted yourself off the car, your ass hit something, someone. You felt a pair of strong hands grab onto your hips to stabilize the both of you, as your back was now flush against his chest. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his watch and bracelets and immediately knew who it was. 

You heard a low groan coming from him, right by your ear. And you felt a bulge grow right where your ass was resting against his crotch. You panicked, and shoved yourself back to knock his balance off so he would get off you. When he did, you turned around to look at him with anger in your eyes.

“What the fuck was that Norris!?”

You didn’t even let him answer before you turned to storm out. Two reasons why. First, you were flustered and could feel your face heat up, and you did not want him to see that. Second, feeling his hands hold your waist, and the bulge grow in his pants, you were already soaked and horny beyond belief, and you did not want to be around him in a state like that. 

Lando stood there, a little shocked, and flustered. He pulled his hoodie down to try and cover up the bulge in his pants, as he headed towards his driver room.

It was time for a car check. And you were picking up the steering wheel to put it in the car. When you turned back around to go over to the car, you saw him.

Lando was standing in his seat, and you watched him lower himself into the seat, holding onto the halo with a tight grip.

You almost dropped the steering wheel in your hand, as your eyes focused on his hands. You had to literally shake your head to get back to the right headspace.

You walked over to the car, and looked down at Lando looking around the cockpit, trying to get in a comfortable position. After he found it, he looked up and his eyes met yours.

His eyes were shining from the lighting on the ceiling. And the feeling that arose was butterflies hidden by anger. Why the fuck was he so breathtaking, but also such a dick. Fuck him. 

You clenched your jaw as you kept eye contact with him. 

“You gonna hand me the steering wheel love?” There was that stupid smirk again.

You narrowed your eyes at him in anger, and handed him the wheel. He clicked it in place, and looked back up at you and told you something he wanted changed on the car. 

Luckily for you, when he started talking about the car, you went straight into work mode. Not a single thought about Lando in your brain. (Only far in the back)

He pointed to show you something that was underneath the steering wheel, right over where his legs rested. And you couldn’t see it. So you stepped farther towards the back of the car, to see it more from his angle. You grabbed a stepping stool that was standing close by, and leaned over the halo. You face resting just beside his. 

“What was it again?” You asked him, surprisingly calm, but the working Y/N was in control right now.

He pointed again, and started explaining it. And you stretched a hand out to point to it as well, making sure you understood each other. 

Lando didn’t expect you to get that close. And when you stretched your hand out and got even closer, he turned to look at you.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face, and you could tell in your peripheral that he was looking at you. So you turned to look at him. Your faces so close that your noses almost touched. 

But somehow, you kept your cool. “I can fix that for you Lando, you just need to get out of the car.” You smiled innocently at him as you leaned back and stepped away. 

When he stepped out, you got your tools ready and lowered yourself into the seat, needing to sit there to get the best access.

As you worked away, Lando stood by the side of the car, arms folded against his chest. There was something going on in his body that he couldn’t recognise. He was still feeling the effects of what happened with the two of you earlier. But there was something different there as well.

On Sunday, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the public bathroom. It was not long before race start. And you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

You were angry, frustrated and way too fucking horny. Last night, you caved, again. Imagining your fingers were his. You used it as a way of getting the anger out, and it worked. 

But your brain was on overdrive and everything was threatening to boil over. Looking at yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself, heading back out, ready for work, trying to ignore everything and hoping it would be fine. 

You were sitting on the pit wall, as you watched them line back up on the grid after the formation lap. And Lando lined his car up on P1. Max lined up in P4, unlucky in Q3.

The race start was good, the top 5 drivers staying as is. Lando keeping the lead until halfway in the race, Lando boxed to get new tires. And when he moved his way back up the grid again, you heard his voice coming on the radio.

“Something is wrong.”

“The gears are not working properly”

You turned to Lando’s race engineer sitting to your right. You nodded at him, and he nodded back, a silent exchange you both understood. 

He contacted Lando to tell him he was looking into it, and would update him as fast as possible. 

You looked at as much of the data as you could, as fast as you could. And there you found it. Between all the numbers and graphs, there was one thing off. 

You contacted the race engineer on the radio, and pointed to the mark on the screen. He saw it, and you both knew the solution. Luckily an easy one, as he only needed to press a few buttons on the steering wheel to change modes. 

The race engineer nodded at you again, but this time, in a way that signaled you to tell Lando. So you did.

“Lando, mode 6, and give it 3.8”

“Understood”

“Thanks Y/N”

You felt like you could hear a smile on his face, but probably not. Right?

When you looked back at the data, you saw everything was fine. And not long after, Lando radioed back to say it was good, and he was ready to get back to the chase.

And he did just that, climbing his way back up. Lucky for him, Max had pitted not long after Lando, making Lando ahead of Max in the race. 

You were anxious for the last few laps. He had gotten back into P1, and had made a reasonable gap back to the driver behind him. 

The screams you heard on the radio as he crossed the line first, almost made you deaf for a minute. And you had a big smile on your face as you celebrated with the crew on the pit wall, proud of the car you helped in making. 

You had gotten the car back to the garage after watching the podium. You, and two other mechanics were pulling the protective sheet over the car. You tried to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, but the image of Lando getting champagne poured on him was seared into your brain. But when you were done with everything, thanking the mechanics before you stepped back. You heard someone entering the garage. 

In walked Lando, soaked in champagne and still dressed in his racing suit that was hanging around his hips. When he saw you, he actually smiled. And seeing him like that, you couldn’t help the heat settling in your core.

He almost ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your hips. He lifted you with him in a tight hug, your feet far above the ground, you had to grab onto his shoulders for support. 

“There’s my no.1 mechanic!” 

His voice was muffled as his face was resting directly against your boobs. 

And when you squeezed his shoulders in reaction, he looked up at you as he still held you tight. You couldn’t get any words out. But as he looked up at you, he smiled. A genuine, lovely smile. But something else was shining in his eyes, and his pupils dilated. 

He felt you started to slip out of his arms, so he readjusted his grip. He got a firm hold on your ass, and when you felt it, everything boiled over.

“Let. Me. The Fuck. Down.” “Now.”

The mechanics stood there in confusion until they heard that. They shared a look, and hurried to leave the garage. Avoiding you screaming at Lando.

Lando heard the threatening tone in your voice, and he immediately lowered you to the ground. 

When he stood back to look at you, he opened his mouth to say something. But you were quicker.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NORRIS? YOU CAN’T JUST LIFT ME UP LIKE THAT! AND NOT TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED THURSDAY MORNING! YOU’RE MAKING ME GO CRAZY!” You basically screamed at him, with your finger pointing at him in anger. But you weren’t finished. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to have this job, and you’re usually rude and mean, but then you’re teasing me and acting all flirty?!” “You’re so fucking confusing!” 

Your brain had exploded at his point. Every feeling that had been pent up for so long, finally boiled over. And since everything hit you, you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter by the second. You let out a heavy breath and lifted your hands to hold onto your head in frustration. 

Lando had just taken it all, with his eyebrows lifted in shock. He was making you go crazy? His mind was running, what did you mean? He didn’t know what to do, what to say. But then he saw the small movement you made, and the look on your face. A smirk making its way to his face as his eyes got even darker. 

While in your frustration, your body just acted for you. And as you were standing there, looking anywhere but at him, your face red and hot, your whole body on fire. Your thighs squeezed together for some desperate neediness for something, anything. 

And when that caught Landos eyes, he took two long steps towards you. His arms wrapping around you, the palms of his hands resting on the top of your ass. 

When he was suddenly in front of you, so close. You dropped your hands in shock, and just stared into his eyes, then his lips. They were slightly parted, and you saw the quick moment his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Before you quickly looked back into his eyes, cursing yourself for the moment of weakness. 

When you locked eyes again, his eyes were dark, looking down at you. Lando had no patience left. He shoved your body hard, into himself. You chests touching, and the grip he had on your ass, where he was holding you tight against him, you felt almost every detail of his already growing bulge through his pants. If you weren’t soaked already, you sure were now. 

You had no control when you let out a small moan at the contact, and that was all Lando wanted, and needed to hear, as he leaned down to capture your lips in an aggressive kiss.

It was like he was hungry, starving for you. And Lando had wanted you since he first saw you, and with the months that had passed, it all came crashing down at the same time.

The kiss was messy, teeth clashing and rough. But you loved it, feeling another moan slip out of your throat.

As you moaned, Lando took the chance and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, your own immediately tangling with his. It was harsh, but so full of passion. His hands were guiding your hips in a way that gave him some much needed friction. And when your hands slid up to grab onto the hair at the back of his neck, he let out a low groan. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, and you pulled on his hair, so you disconnected. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at him. He was breathing heavy too, and his lips were wet, and slightly red. His pupils blown wide. God, he looked so fucking good, you almost wanted to go back to being angry at him. just because of how hot he was. But you didn’t, he spoke before you could do anything.

“Shit, I need you.” His eyes darted all across your face, looking for any type of reaction. “Please”

He looked so desperate, and he sounded even more desperate. He was begging you. 

Fuck it, you needed this too. “Your driver room” “Now”

He was quick to grab your hand and pull you after him.

When you finally entered his driver room behind him, he turned around and closed the door behind you. And when he turned back around, he took long steps towards you, until your lips met again. 

Neither of you could control the sounds coming from the both of you. His hands were everywhere, grabbing onto what he could. You hands found his hair again, grabbing it, earning a sweet sound from him. 

He walked the both of you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the small couch. He spun the both of you around, he sat down and pulled you to sit on top of him. 

When you sat down, Lando looked down to where your hips met as his grip on your ass moved your hips, grinding yourself onto him. You lifted both of your hands to hold onto the sides of his face, and made him look at you.

When Lando looked at you, you almost took his breath away. Your cheeks were tinted pink, and your lips were open, breathing heavily. Some of your hair had fallen in your face and your eyes were shining as you looked at him, he swore, you were a goddess. His hands slid up to hold on to your waist, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a way to try and control himself. But he lost it the second you whispered.

“Just fuck me already”

His hands immediately found the hem of your Red Bull shirt and pulled it over your head. You understood the signal and stood up from his lap and went to pull your pants off, as he pulled the fireproof shirt over his head. 

You were standing in front of him in only your underwear as you looked at him hurrying to pull his race suit and the fireproofs of his legs. When he finally did, he looked up at you, and you swore you could see his dick twitch in his gray boxers. 

Your confidence grew in you, so you went to take your bra off. When it hit the floor, you could hear him muttering under his heavy breath “Fuck”. Next, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down. 

It had been awhile since the last time someone saw you naked, but with the reaction Lando was giving you, his eyes looking at you like you were a goddess. It made you feel beautiful, and so powerful. So you stepped forward until you were right in front of him. His eyes kept shifting from your face to your tits. 

You sat down in his lap again, your knees resting beside his hips, and your core just barely touching the outline of his dick in his boxers. When you leaned down to capture his lips again, you lowered your hips until you felt his covered dick resting between your folds. And because of the much needed friction you got. You moaned into his mouth. 

The kiss was much slower and careful than before, frustration replaced by the need to really taste each other. His hands had found a tight hold on your hips, as he tried to guide them to move. 

“Baby, you’re soaked” He said as he looked down at where you were resting above him.

Lifting your hips, you saw that his boxers were absolutely soaked because of you. And you felt your face heat up even more. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore” “You reckon you’re ready to take me?”

He looked up at you, and you felt stunned. Just nodding wildly at him, his smirk grew. He looked down again, and pulled his boxers down enough to free his dick. Springing free, it hit his abdomen. You stared down, bewildered. How was he supposed to fit?

His hands found your hips again, and he guided them to rest right above him. One of his hands wrapped around his dick, and he moved his hands up and down a few times, as he looked up at you. You were staring down at his hand wrapped around himself, and you felt your pussy clench, waiting to finally have him inside of you. 

He moved his dick so the tip was resting against your hole. Looking up at him, he still had that smirk on his face. 

“Think you can handle it?” 

You didn’t reply before you dropped your hips down until he bottomed out inside of you. His pelvis hitting your clit. You both moaned simultaneously. The stretch was a lot, he was big, and you hadn’t had a dick in you for ages. But God it felt so good. 

Lando swore no one had been able to fit around him so perfectly, and when you took all of him, he felt you clench around him, almost holding him in. He felt another moan slip out of him. His mouth was hanging open in awe as he looked at you. Your head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“Shit, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you” He almost whispered.

He slid a hand up to hold on to the side of your face, tipping it down to make you look at him. And his other hand gave your hip a squeeze. 

“Please move”

You didn’t have to make him beg for you, he just did on his own. Was he really this weak for you?

A smirk grew on your face as you wanted to know just how weak he was. You just grinded your hips slowly, and you watched his face as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You kept your small movements up, but he tried to lift your hips up and down on him. But you were stubborn, and you didn’t budge. 

Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, as the movement was so good for you. Your clit getting friction everytime you moved back and forth. Your breath coming out in whimpers. 

You closed your eyes again, but opened them when you felt his hand on your face again. The look on his face was pleading. 

“Please baby.” “I need more” His voice was so soft and sweet, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. 

“Say it again.”

“Please please please please baby”

His hands were running up and down your torso as his eyes were locked on yours.

You gave in and moved your hips up to slam them back down. And the groan that made its way out of lando could’ve made you cum already.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, as you kept up the rhythm, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders. His hands slid around to your ass and grabbed a hold as he helped you move up and down on his dick, and his hips moved up to meet yours. 

You knew the door to the driver room was pretty thin, so you bit your bottom lip to try and hold back some of the sounds threatening to escape. Lando noticed, and snaked a hand around to circle his thumb around your clit. He saw it on your face, the effect it had on you. But he also felt it, as you got even tighter around him. You didn’t moan from it, but he sure did. 

You were so focused as you tried to keep quiet, but with the added pleasure it was so difficult, also because of the sounds he was making.

“Come on baby, let me hear you” He said in a low tone, as he was looking up at you.

That broke you. And he got the sounds from you that he desperately needed to hear. 

As you looked down at him, you saw his eyebrows scrunched together as he was staring at himself disappearing inside you, and his mouth was hanging open. You lifted one of your hands and ran it through the wet curls on the top of his head, still soaked in champagne and sweat. 

You grabbed a hold of them and pulled his head back to make him look at you. All of the feelings you had for him came rising to the surface, just as you felt your climax closing in. The feelings of anger and frustration. So with gritted teeth, you spoke.

“Fuck you.”

He enjoyed that.

“You already are sweetheart.”

You gave in and sped up your rhythm. And his thumb moved faster and his grip on your ass tightened. Your hand slid down to cradle his jaw. You ran your thumb across the facial hair growing on his chin, before you pulled him in for a searing kiss before your climax hit like a brick wall. 

You disconnected from the kiss and tipped your head back, eyes screwed shut, as your vision was going white, and you whispered a quiet “Fuck, Lando” as you came. 

Lando felt you tighten around him as you came, and he looked up at you, mesmerized, as he saw your face contourting as you came around him. And he followed right after, coming inside you. 

You felt him filling you up, and his thumb had slowed down, but was still rubbing soft circles helping you come down from your orgasm. After a few seconds of catching your breath, as he did the same, you opened your eyes to look at him again, and he was already looking at you. The ghost of a gorgeous smile on his face. 

His hands rested on your thighs, and his thumb rubbing soft circles again. Neither of you said anything, you just looked at each other.

“You’re going to be the death of me” 

He was whipped.

Notes: I realized this could be made into a series or something. So let me know if you want more!! Thank you for reading<3

[littlemessengers]

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ =^^= kitties for jumin...

I’ll show him in the morning. I’m sure he’ll appreciate them.

-V

[skyahri]

Hate |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha

Summary: Hate is a strong word, but it's also a very fragile one.

Warnings: Brief smut, kissing mentions of p and v. Some angst, but all comfort. Mentions of blood, violence, and death.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

You hated how full of himself he was. He was always talking down to people, to his teammates and so-called friends. He goes out of his way to show people up no matter how inappropriate the situation may be.

He hated that you always stuck up for people he considered weak. He hated how much time and energy you put into helping others instead of focusing on your own training. He hated that you had so much potential, yet seemed to waste it at every opportunity.

As time went on and you were forced into each other's inner circles, your occasional arguments became a constant bicker. It got even worse when you were assigned to his ANBU team. You questioned his every move and fought every decision he made.

In return, he always gave you the least desirable night shifts. He'd make you write all the reports, saying something about needing to learn to respect your elders (he's only a few months older than you).

Once you were put in charge of your own team, things quieted down. Not because either of you had mellowed out, but because you didn't cross paths as often anymore.

Because of how rarely you saw him, you always made sure to make your brief encounters worth it. You had practically written a list of insults to throw his way. He returned the same energy with out hesitation.

Eventually, after his genin team had gone their separate ways and you had finally retired from ANBU, you had a seemingly infinite amount of time to rekindle your rivalry with him.

He always seemed to be heading in the same direction as you were. It didn't matter if you were on your way to the Hokage's office, the shops, or meeting up with someone- he was always there.

You tried to fight with him like the good old days, but it was different now that you were grown adults. Maybe the ungodly amount of trauma combined with the wedge distance had created in your odd relationship had finally put an end to your petty war.

Thinking back, maybe this is what it had been all along, and your stupid kid brain was too proud to admit what was really going on.

Your arguing had turned into kissing the moment he stepped through your apartment door. Things moved quickly, expert hands doing away with endless layers of Jonin uniforms in a rushed attempt to feel more of each other.

It felt right. Like the decades of tension had finally come to a head and you were being forced to deal with it in the most animalistic way possible.

"I hate you."

Your mumbling between desperate kisses. He doesn't acknowledge you immediately, opting to instead lift you by your ass so your legs could wrap around him. He pushes you against the wall, pressing his clothed election right against your womanhood.

"I hate you, too."

Neither of you acknowledges the elephant in the room, that the word you're looking for isn't actually hate. But that's beyond your cloudy minds right now.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru has never really bothered with social pleasantries or subjected himself to cater to what people like and dislike. In fact, he often chastised people for caring what others think.

He always commented about what you wore, how well groomed you were, and the overall effort you put into your appearance each day.

You hated listening to it, which is why you always did your best to avoid him.

It wasn't even about you specifically. You hated hearing how rudely he'd shut down Ino when she would ramble on about anything. You hated when he complained about how loud Naruto and Kiba were despite knowing that they're just excitable people. You hated hearing the damn near sexist remarks he'd make about how stupid people were for giving any shots about how they looked.

It was annoying. It didn't seem to phase anyone else anymore, but that almost made it worse.

You were at your breaking point. Just one comment away from losing your composure and you prayed to God you'd be able to refrain from saying anything too harsh.

But alas, Kakashi had assigned you to yet another mission with him- the sixth one just this month.

At least he waited until you were at the Inn before he started up with you. You honestly don't know why he let you shower first if it was going to be such an issue.

"Finally. I thought you'd be in there forever."

"What the Hell is your problem with me?"

He paused in his tracks. He wasn't expecting you to say anything to his usual grumbling, and especially didn't expect it to be so hostile.

"You always take forever in the bathroom."

"It was twenty minutes. You'll live."

"It wouldn't be that long if you didn't bother with all the extra shit you use."

"Why is it such a problem that I care about what I look like? I don't ever involve you in it and yet you're always talking about it."

He rolled his eyes, about to blow off whatever you were saying, but you started up again before he could.

"All you ever do is bitch and whine and moan about dumb shit that doesn't concern you. I like to look nice. I like wearing clothes that compliment my figure and putting time into the health of my hair and skin. It's not the end of the world, so shut the fuck up about it already."

You walked past him and lay in one of the twin beds, tired from the journey and pissed about your teammate's usual poor behavior.

He didn't say anything. He continued with what he was going to do before the argument and carried on like nothing had happened.

He kept any conversations strictly professional for the duration of the mission, something you were ecstatic about.

It wasn't until a few days after you returned home that you heard from him. He showed up at your apartment unprompted, looking irritated and slightly flustered.

"After talking with my team, it may have come to my attention that I might be kind of an ass."

You invited him in, curious as to what he had to say. He admitted that he had never been called out on it. Most people don't take him too seriously and he may have gotten a bit too comfortable voicing every thought that crossed his mind.

Although he had mostly soothed any nerves you had, you still decided he owed you.

You dragged him into your room, sat him at your vanity, and laughed when he groaned. You pulled out all the stops for him. You took him through your entire routine start to finish and when you were done, you asked him hiw it felt.

He hated that it felt nice. He hated that he suddenly realized how dry his skin usually was and how clean he suddenly felt. He would never fully admit that to you, though.

Him showing up at your apartment the next day, conveniently around the time you usually started these things, was all the confirmation you needed that he no longer deemed it a waste of time.

Sasuke Uchiha

He hated going to the Hokage's office, not because he was still in the thick of earning his freedom after the war, but because he hated Kakashi’s assistant.

You annoy him. He hates that you so confidently push his buttons. He hates that you're just a civilian, but you've been given so much authority over him. It was an unfit existence for the last Uchiha.

You enjoyed messing with him. He would grumble when given his assignment and you made sure to mock him with a playful pout. You'd check in with the ANBU watching over him to make sure he was behaving. You always used that word- behaving. As if he were a child.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, Kakashi isn't in the village right now, meaning he's stuck taking orders from you. He swears Kakashi picked you to oversee him intentionally, knowing how much it would bother him.

He's sitting next to you, helping you go through seemingly endless piles of paperwork. He wasn't sure if this was better than all the D-rank missions he'd been assigned lately, but he begrudgingly accepted the change of pace.

He glances at you through his peripherals. The sun is just going down, the orange light illuminating your soft features. Your usual bratty expression was replaced with a more peaceful one.

This was most likely just as much a break for you as it was for him. He wasn't oblivious to the way you had to reel Kakashi in every day, damn near having to tie him to his chair to get anything done.

"You can go home. I'll finish up here and we can resume tomorrow."

He didn't argue, thankful for relief from the horrifically tedious task. As he was leaving the building, he suddenly got this feeling in his gut that he should stay.

Of course, not wanting to do more paperwork than he was required to, he ignored the feeling and carried on.

He should've stayed. Just an hour after he left, while you were packing up for the night, the tower was raided by rogue nin.

The alarm sounded in the village, immediately calling all available shinobi. Bee, the ANBU assigned to him, gave him permission to lend a hand, and off they went to the tower.

He teleported himself to Kakashi’s office, knowing you would most likely be in there or at least somewhere near. What he wasn't expecting, however, was you standing over a body, kunai in hand and blood splattered across your body.

"Y/N?"

You didn't move, couldn't move. He reached forward, tugged the blade out of your shaky grip, and let it fall to the floor. You let him, not really in the mood to fight any more than you had to right now.

"Is he dead?"

Your question caught him off guard.

"I've never killed anyone before."

Ah. Civilian. Right. Sure, you belonged to a Shinobu village and even worked under the Kage, but that was vastly different than being on the front lines.

He thought for a second. Was he in any sort of position to be responsible for you at the moment? Should he hand you off to one of the other nin and return home?

"Cover your eyes."

It took a minute for his words to register in your hazy mind, but once they did you obeyed. If there was one thing you knew would benefit you, it would be allowing him to take the lead for now.

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and guided you through the hallways, down the stairs, and away from the tower completely. He glanced around, but couldn't find Bee, so he opted to take you back to his apartment. It would cause a lot less trouble if he was where he was supposed to be after all.

At home, he sat you down in the tub and turned on the water. He left you there, letting all the blood loosen from your skin. He returned a moment later, setting a stack of clothes down on the counter and grabbing a rag from the cabinet.

Neither of you spoke as he gently scrubbed your face. When he was done, he got a little bit of shampoo and worked all the red out of your hair.

You were slowly coming out of your daze. It was nice being brought out by something kind and comforting. It was almost enough to distract you from the night's events. Almost.

When he was done, he handed you the cloth, telling you to finish up and see him when you're done. You nodded, standing up and undressing when the door closed. You noticed how clean the water ran, most likely due to how thoroughly the Uchiha had taken care of you.

When you stepped out of the tub, you noticed the clothes on the counter. Upon closer inspection, they were similar to the ones he was wearing now- a t-shirt and sweats.

You joined him in the adjacent bedroom where he waited patiently. He all but forced you into his bed, shutting down all of your protests. When he went to leave the room, you quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt to stop him.

"Please stay."

He didn't fight you. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard and staring blanky in front of him.

You were thankful for the comfort of simply not being alone. Not after tonight, when so much had happened and the trauma was still fresh in your mind.

He tried telling himself that this was not a personal act, but instead one that would aid his village. But who was he kidding? He was realizing you weren't all that terrible and he had just allowed his angst brain to manipulate him into thinking so.

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw, again. (series masterlist)

cw: 3.5k words, fluff, light angst-adjacent content but really just more pining, brief smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, suggestions of dubcon, fem reader, i make you think abt seb in a towel again 😵‍💫 request

a/n: sorry for teasin' xx laney

The same annoying tendril of hair fell in her eye for the hundredth time that hour. She huffed hard in frustration and slapped it (and her own face, a bit) away, looking back down at the mostly-blank roll of parchment in front of her. The essay would not write itself, no matter how long she spent procrastinating by looking for and through any library books that would tell her how to get the essay to write itself. History of Magic was a special torture unlike any other. Might be best to pull out the old “dugbog ate my essay” routine on the impassive Professor Binns.

Besides, even if she had wanted to wax on about the Balkan Wizarding Summit of 1678 for several pages, she wouldn’t have been able to. Not with the thoughts that had been occupying the entirety of her brain since that fateful night two weeks ago. The night she kept finding herself returning to whenever her head hit her pillow, or whenever she had a quiet, absent moment brewing Wiggenweld in Potions, or whenever she walked or thought or breathed. The night when she’d witnessed her dear old chum Sebastian dripping wet out of the bath, water running down every line of his tanned and lightly freckled torso right to the top of a towel that was slung low on hips boasting a noticeable “V”, hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The sight had floored her in such an unexpected way that a hysterical giggle had popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she saw Sebastian’s jaw tick in annoyance. 

As she’d walked away from the encounter, she had tried with all her might to pretend it hadn’t happened. It was funny, really, a silly and awkward little moment between two friends. That was all.

That was all, she’d reminded herself the next morning, brushing her teeth after a night of tossing and turning and peering at her puffy face in the bathroom mirror.

No great ordeal, she’d chastised her active imagination as she hopped on her broom and did a few laps around the Quidditch fields, hoping the bitter cold air would jolt her back to her senses.

And he probably doesn’t even remember it, she reasoned with herself every night while she closed the curtains around her bed, cast a silencing charm, and pulled her nightgown up around her waist. Sebastian had never been something to look at like that before, so why was she whining out his name every night, a hand that she desperately wished was his stuffed inside her underwear. 

This was Sebastian, she was dreaming about, after all. Her birdie, her inquisitive and acerbic classmate who seemed to need to know everything about her and whose laugh devolved into fits of snorting whenever he saw someone trip. And it wasn’t as if she’d seen him in the full nude; why was the sight of his bare chest and back sending her into such fits of ecstasy? It felt ridiculous, yet logic rarely won out over the way her heart pounded painfully whenever he made eye contact with her now.

Two days after the incident, they’d met in their usual seats in Transfiguration, and Sebastian had immediately broken the tension she was sure existed by bluntly saying, “I’m going to keep all my clothes on this time, I swear,” as she sat down beside him. She could feel red shame creeping up the back of her neck and prayed it wasn’t appearing over the top of her robes. 

“Good, I nearly had to go to the hospital wing and get my eyes removed after that,” she had sniffed in return, but both of them grinned and settled into their old routine of passing notes and coughing loudly whenever Ominis had to answer a question. For reasons unclear, it drove him mad.

Everything gradually fell back to normal, though she found that she could no longer use her affectionate nickname for him. She’d tried, once, when Sebastian had been pestering her for information on the Arithmancy exam she’d taken earlier in the day and that he was now staring down the barrel of. The stress had him grabbing at handfuls of his hair so they stuck out like he’d been hit with a blasting curse, and he’d begged for every detail she could remember, until she finally spluttered, “Questions, questions, questions! Leave me alone and go study yourself, birdie!” 

His mouth had clamped shut. Rare. Too rare. 

He had seemed so uncomfortable after that, shifting around in his chair so much and eventually getting to his feet and leaving with a weak joke, that she’d made up her mind never to call him birdie again. Clearly, he had lost his preference for it after their nighttime encounter, probably assuming condescension on her part. Nothing could be further than the truth; she just adored his incessant chirping so much that she wished she could carry him around on her finger all day. 

Whatever his thoughts on the matter were, something small had shifted between them that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. As the empty parchment roll looked glumly back at her in the dim candlelight of the library, she decided that she had had enough working for one day and slammed the tome in front of her shut. Dust flew everywhere and she spat it out of her mouth with disdain.

Trudging along to the Great Hall to see if there were any scraps of dinner still left, she considered a few other interactions with Sebastian and deemed them perfectly normal. The nickname was what seemed to set him off. Oh well, she sighed. Probably best that I don’t have a pet name for the man I can’t stop picturing naked, anyway.

Ominis and Sebastian were seated across from each other at the Slytherin table, and after passing by her own house table to snag a plate of shepherd’s pie and a small dessert, she sat down beside Sebastian and asked him how the Arithmancy exam had gone after all.

He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, his upper lip curling and head thrown back to expose his long neck. Her stomach swirled and she set the fork that had been on its way to her mouth back down. This man now made her lose all sense of reason. Her body was reacting in ways she wasn’t even familiar with now, all because of one stupid towel. “Oh, please don’t ask. I’ll be surprised if they even let me take my NEWT in Arithmancy. Horrendous.” 

She tried to pull herself together and respond as normal friends normally do. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You always do wonderfully on exams and beat yourself up far more than you should,” she murmured evenly, picking at the pie. She turned to the man who looked far more appetizing. 

“Well, someone needs to,” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and resting his head on his hand as he looked at her. Ominis rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“The ego on you,” he sighed, scraping the last bit of chocolate torte on his plate onto his fork. “Surprised your head doesn’t weigh down the rest of your body.” “It’s balanced out by the monster I’ve got down here,” Sebastian grinned like a devil and patted his upper thigh.

It’s a joke, it’s a joke, it’s a stupid joke made by a dumb boy with an ugly face and no sense of humor, it’s a joke. The mantra rattled around in her head for a few good seconds then drifted out her ears as she abandoned it in favor of considering what it might look like if he wasn’t joking. It was very unhelpful. 

She cleared her throat and pushed the shepherd’s pie away from her, replacing it with the dessert instead. It wasn’t until she scooped up a piece and brought it up to her mouth that her distracted brain realized what it was.

“Ah, my favorite again. Finally,” Sebastian said, and then he was leaning over her, hand resting on the top of her leg to steady himself as he intercepted the piece of cherry tart and pulled it off her fork with his teeth before she could eat it herself. Everything inside her shut down. Her mouth hung agape as she watched him hum in rapturous delight and chew the tart. He gave the top of her leg a swat and said, “All yours now. I’ve already had three.”

Words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t come. Only the sensation of his large, warm hand pressing into her leg and the proximity of his face to hers as he’d stolen the bite existed. She had been able to smell whatever scent he wore, and it was something like pine needles and black pepper, although maybe that was just residual from a Herbology class. Even after he’d made a parting joke and climbed to his feet, Ominis and him exiting the hall engaged in a discussion of Quidditch prospects, the scent filled her nose and drove her light-headed. 

Having a massive, soul-sucking crush on your friend was not for the faint of heart, she decided, as she pushed the tart away, too, and left for her dormitory. Her insides were wound so tight she was worried they would snap, and her panties were so covered in slick by the time she reached her empty bedroom that she stripped down and tugged on her dressing gown. A bath, she needed a nice, hot bath to wash away the grime of her thoughts.

The dressing gown’s thin material slipped off her shoulders as she gathered clean pajamas and braided her hair up and off her neck, and she grunted with annoyance. She had really appreciated the gift of the robe, a hand-me-down from Poppy, but the aged and stretched cotton would not stay up on either of their shoulders. She tied the belt as tight as she could around her waist and slipped out of the dormitory, making her way through the sea of students sweating over homework and revisions in the common room.

The prefects’ bathroom sounded heavenly, especially as the cold stone floor of the castle bit through her thin slippers and the passing of a careless ghost’s cloak through her right shoulder left her shivering. She ambled up stairs and down them, through corridors, and used more than one hidden passage, old hat to her at this point, until she ended up in the faculty tower. Only a few more flights separated her and warm, soapy relief from the thoughts of Sebastian plaguing her. 

It wasn’t terribly late yet, and a couple Ravenclaw students mingled on the landing just below the bathrooms. They waved at her and she waved back, their names escaping her but giving them a jovial smile all the same. Beginning her final ascent, she watched the steps in front of her and tried to recall where she knew their faces from. She was still racking her brain for their identities when she ran into a wall.

“Ugh!” she cried, irritated that she had been jostled out of her thoughts by the unyielding stone. Then the stone did yield and she looked up, startled.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” Sebastian said with raised eyebrows. He stood on the step above her, wearing dark blue pajamas, a towel slung over his shoulder and wet hair carefully parted and combed. Even fully-clothed, he took her breath away. As usual. A small knick under his jaw told her he’d cut himself shaving, and she wished with everything inside her that she could kiss the tiny cut. Not really friendship behavior, though.

She tried to clear her throat, searching for something witty to say in return. “No,” was what she finally came up with. “We can’t.” 

“Prefects’ bathroom is superior, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm.”

“Aren’t you glad to see I remembered these this time?” He plucked at the pinstripe pajama pants. 

No. “Yes, I certainly am.”

“Are you going to bed straight after?”

“I think so.”

“What time are you getting breakfast?”

“Is that enough questions yet?!” She spluttered, feeling her nerves recede a bit as his chirping tickled her. He smiled broadly.

“What else can you expect from your b-birdie?” He tripped over the last word and his smile faltered. Something unchecked in her chest stirred. Sebastian Sallow did not trip over his words. He picked each one carefully and considered the potential outcomes they would elicit in every situation. Why was this one ridiculous little pet name causing the both of them so much awkwardness?

She opened her mouth to try and tell him that she expected nothing less, but stopped when she saw his hazel eyes suddenly widen and travel down from her face to her chest. Before she had time to be confused, she realized that her shoulders were suddenly freezing and goosebumps had broken out over her clavicle. The damned dressing gown had once again slipped down, nearly to her elbows, and couldn’t pull it back up fast enough. A large swathe of her chest had been exposed, and despite the cold, heat flared in her sternum and rose up her neck to her face as she yanked the gown up and clutched it closed at her neck. 

“Fuck off, it was an accident,” she hissed without thinking when Sebastian’s eyes did not return to their normal size. Humiliation was seeping into her bones, settling there like a disease that no healer could cure. Things had just returned to normal, (well, as normal as they could get now that she could think of little else than Sebastian’s body), and now they were having a repeat performance. Whatever god was orchestrating this rigamarole had a cruel spirit indeed. 

“I-I know,” Sebastian stammered. Ever the charming Slytherin, he recovered himself quickly and added, “Hey, we’re even now. You saw me and I saw–nothing!” He turned course mid-sentence and threw his hands up in a defensive pose when she glared at him. He really never knew when the right and wrong times to make a joke were.

“Just…good night!” She all but snapped, brushing past him and up the rest of the stairs, not bothering to look back at him as she jogged towards the bathroom door. The prefect standing sentry outside waved her in and she bolted for the women’s baths. 

How fucking humiliating could life get? Like a silly, love-drunk girl, she had developed some very confusing and sinful feelings for Sebastian, all because she’d seen him a little bit wet. Granted, his tanned skin had been shining under the droplets of water, and his back was taut and muscular from years of bludger-beating, and his legs were long enough to make her lose her way, and gods, what on earth had that thin, grey towel been concealing…

As she sunk into the steaming bath and mounds of bubbles, she let out one final wail of lament for her dignity before plunging underwater.

Her dreams that night reached a new summit of horror.

First, she was lost in a maze of hallways. They weren’t Hogwarts hallways, but she knew she was running late for an exam all the same. Every corner she rounded and door she opened displayed empty rooms and brick walls. Time ticked past at an extraordinary pace, the exam start time creeping steadily nearer but her destination refused to show itself, despite her panicked sprinting. When she finally found herself in something resembling a classroom, fifty students crouched over individual desks and scribbling away, she felt a momentary wash of relief. 

Then, a hand was wrapping itself around her leg and she was screaming. The hand yanked her backwards out of the classroom and down the hall, the room fading from her view as her unseen kidnapper pulled her at an impossible pace. A bright flash of light and she felt the hand unwrap from her calf and something retreat into the darkness. Sebastian was suddenly in front of her, taking her head in his hands and murmuring something she couldn’t make out. He seemed to be concerned about her, but all she could feel was his warmth and safety and she felt herself tumbling into his lake-hazel eyes. 

They were kissing before she could figure out why the exam didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Oh, God, sweetheart,” Sebastian was rasping as he pulled his lips away, face hazy with want. She whined and tugged him back to her, and she found herself in a location she couldn’t quite make out in the semi-darkness, but her back was pressed against something more comfortable than the marble hallway floors that Sebastian had rescued her from. 

He was slotting a leg in between hers and kneading it gently around. Her body felt vaguely light and floaty, a new breed of arousal building as she bumped herself against his leg and pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Seb,” she gasped, but he was already gone, pulling her dressing gown–goddamn that dressing gown, haunting her even here!–down and ripping it off entirely so she was exposed to him. Dream Sebastian had longer hair. It curled slightly around his ears and brushed the bottom of his neck, tickling her when he leaned back down to kiss her neck with hot, wet lips. 

She would later admit that she quite preferred the power she held in the realm of her subconscious to the power she held in reality; perhaps wielding ancient magic was a benefit for some, but willing Sebastian’s clothes away and feeling the all-too-real heat of him pressed against her naked body gave her more of a thrill than she ever could have summoned.

In an instant, she found him sunk between her legs, hot mouth ghosting over her weeping heat and then delving into it. She shrieked, letting it dissolve into a moan as his tongue swirled around her clit and he sucked it into a gentle kiss. Her hands dug into his sandy brown hair, using the extra length to her advantage and tugging. Why was it so long?

"You taste so divine, I knew it," he was groaning. "Better than any fucking tart."

Time was strange. They stayed wrapped in each other for a year and a minute simultaneously, and then he was fucking her with a savage gentleness that made her weep. His slow, hard movements were almost cruel in their sweetness. And she even managed to notice, through her daze, that his cock was just as he'd promised, its thickness splitting her open and making her eyes roll back in her head.

He was panting, his words once more indiscernible but seemingly lust-fueled. The sensation of his cock pushing into her made her body, small under his powerful frame, shake. Using his defined abdomen, he pushed himself up as he continued fucking her and cried, “Shit, baby, come for me! I’m all fucking yours.”

Her orgasm gained ground and was cresting high and wide when he added, “Let me see you cry when you come real pretty, please? Hm? Come on, I’ll be a good little birdie, I swear.”

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a huge breath of air, chest heaving, her sheets wrapped around and clinging to her sweat-ridden body. She was positively drenched, both outwardly and inwardly, and the rising frustration when she realized that she was very much alone in her bed and that the dream was slipping through the cracks in her memory like water made her roll over, stuff her face into her pillow, and scream.

Ominis thought about what a wonderful friend he was for putting up with that disorganized slob Sallow as he dug through the disorganized slob’s school bag for a new bottle of ink. When he had run out in the middle of his homework, Sebastian had absently waved him upstairs to the bedroom and told him to grab a fresh bottle from his bag, his gaze never leaving the teetering tower of shortbread he was building. 

“What a prince,” Ominis grunted to himself, feeling around for anything glass and instead receiving several paper cuts from the loose pages Sebastian kept stuffed away, in case he was ever caught needing garbage. His slim hand closed around a small bottle and he smiled in triumph, eager to be done with his spelunking expedition. As he yanked the bottle through the layers of debris in the bag, the force required caused him to stumble backwards, just a step, and into Sebastian’s nightstand. Something thudded onto the floor and Ominis bent to sweep his hands over the floor and find it.

A book, hardcover, without rips or tears to indicate its age. Ominis picked it up and felt around the cover, curious to see what nighttime reading his friend was doing, and curious to see if it happened to be his first voluntary non-Quidditch-related read. The embossed letters on the front were so shiny and slick that he found it hard to make out the title using just his touch, so Ominis pulled his wand from his pocket and held it over the book, words coming into clearer focus in his mind’s eye. 

Legilimency and the Dreamer, the book proclaimed. A subtitle at the bottom of the cover read: “Infiltrating the sleeping mind, for the beginner.”

Ominis snorted and threw the book back on Sebastian’s night stand, wondering whom it actually belonged to. Definitely not Sallow's.

pt. 3

masterlist

[bohnerrific69]

── .✧ naked (drabble/headcanon)

pairing: peter maximoff x fem!reader

words count: 1.0k | warnings and tags: suggestive themes (there's no smut btw), voyeurism, genitalia/body (peter) descriptions. english is not my first language (im still learning by self-thaught!)

⟣ masterlist | author's note: unbeliavable that the first thing of that i write AND post here it's just some quick silly headcannon/thoughts off peter horny behavior. 🫠 right now i have too many wips on the queue to finish, so maybe in the future i rewrite this as a oneshot properly! (enter my taglist here)

Peter is the kind of guy who, when reaching the peak of his independence having his own house, and when the summer arrives with its dreadful heat waves, would simply take off his clothes and walk around the house naked. Well, at first he got a little apprehensive of doing that, staying on his nice boxers for a few days - only two - till finally letting his body free as mother nature blessed.

Until a while later, a moving truck showed up at the neighbor's empty house and he saw a beautiful and hot girl, you, moving there. He even greeted and welcomed you to the neighborhood. At first he was unsure to talk to you all of sudden, but then it's not like he hadn’t started bumping into you on the street almost every week chatting with you and discovering how easy was to made you laugh at even the silliest things making every encounter more enchanting than the last one. I’m sure these quick encounters were pure coincidence... Unknowingly, getting Peter attracted into you even more than he thought.

But on another hot summer day, walking around the house naked, he came across something unexpected, he saw you through his open window… Well, that wasn't the surprise, you were his neighbor, it was quite common to sometimes see you by the window. The unexpected factor was... that you were looking exactly like him, perfectly naked just like mama gave you life. You was stand up distracted with some magazine in one hand and a lollipop in your mouth while listening to a song and moving your hips sensually following the beat.

And on rare occasions, this being obviously one of them, Peter stopped moving, stooding freezed there without moving a muscle with wide eyes and mouth dropped open, his face turning pink as fast as it could, stunned by the vision of that gentle girl with such an innocent smile and shy attitude when was nears him, to be honest seeing you like that baffled his brain, a thought of you being in that situation not even pass near horny Peter's mind, but certainly turned everything on him on fire.

Okay, it was her house and she lived alone, but with the window open?... Y-yeah, Peter wasn't the best person to talk about this topic now.

Everything in his mind and body was acting so fast, his heartbeat? Oh gosh if someone could hear, it would probably sound ticking so fast like a bomb ready to explode... But nothing made him move until you stopped looking at the magazine in your hands and saw him by the window too, the windows being at the same height and directed front to one another.

Your reaction was almost the same as him, freezing still while your brain tried to collect the informations of his pretty toned body that his lucky mutant genes (and too much X-Men training) blessed him. The jacked abs with pretty biceps too, the divine slutty waist highlighting his v line, the happy trail with silver pubes and-

Oh. Oh good lord... He was fucking turned on.

His dick was awaken and glued on his abdomen just by seeing you. Aforehand you could get on with your analysis, you notice his cock twitch slightly making you return to reality and your conscious remembering your situation right now. But before this could make you react, Peter got free of his trance milliseconds earlier than you, in the blink of an eye he was no longer there, his powers made him simply evaporate from there.

In the panic you just screamed and runned out of camp of vision from the window, dropping your magazine in hands and stumbling on some other ones scattered on the floor, making you fallen ridiculously on your bed, quickly getting into a fetal position and covering your face with the hands like that would help you protect yourself from the embarrassment, of course that not works and you just feels all your body be engulfed by a heavy shame and feeling your cheeks burns, you get one of your pillows and just screams and curses into into it.

After freaking out, you wanted to check out if he was still there, so still feeling the rush of adrenaline now with your legs trembling by the scare that you just got, you get out off the bed and crawled on the floor till were below the window and sitting on your own heels and pulled the curtains close. You sighed nervously, getting on your knees and hiding behind the curtains, you opened a crack into it so you could spy with one of your eyes if he was still there, and… Nothing.

His window still was open but there was no one on the room, you got away from the curtains and sit on the floor with the back against the wall looking at any point of your room, feeling a million thoughts running in your mind nonstop like “What the fuck just happened?”

While focusing on your breath, feeling your heart pounding on your chest, reasoning that despite the embarrassment that… You kinda of like it?... Liked that your cute neighbor that you find smokin’ hot attractive, but never had the courage to say anything, saw you like this and was being so affected by it, being fucking turned on, with his big brown eyes and pink flustered face looking at you so shocked but... admired? Quite hard to know, it was everything so quickly, but you hoped that it was, his dick was sending an obvious message.

Now focusing on what matters… Good god what was that perfect body?! If you could pull him, you sure that would be the luckiest woman alive.

Being weirdly satisfied you laid on the floor, covering your mouth with one of your hands and coming down from your high, starting giggling like an idiot and kicking your feets on the air so embarrassed by the situation but thinking how funny the life is and experiences are not individuals, like as walking naked in your own house because the weather was hot and run into with your hot neighbor by the window doing the same thing.

Well, let's not think for now off by the fact that he lived at the house by your side. And probably tomorrow you would have to say good morning to him.

— as it is my first "fanfic" thing that i write and post here, just tagging some mutuals to boost the post. sorry if i'm bothering! 🤎🦋

@lemoniiiiiii @fear-is-truth @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @silverzoomies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @acrosstheunivcrse @tiffysdeath @wcnderlnds @evvyyypeters-fics @evanpeterswifeyyy @evanpetersbf @frankenkyle19 @taintandviolent @enchanting-evan

[targaryen-dynasty]

OF DRAGONS AND WOLVES.

Daemon Targaryen x Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

You and your husband came to Dragonstone on behalf of your nephew Jacaerys, needing your help in the upcoming war of succession. However, you seem to be in need of something entirely different.

WORDS: 2.3 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), threesome (MMF), p in v, anal, double penetration, fingering, dry humping, breeding, size kink, profanity, jealousy, possessiveness, marking, reader is cregan’s wife, high valyrian

It was the raven from Dragonstone with desperate words written by no less than your nephew Jacaerys that had lured both you and your husband to the impressive castle on the eponymous island. 

While you descended the sky with your green beast, still keeping up with the main column of your servants and maids, and most importantly your husband, the latter chose to accompany your entourage on horseback, never daring to step close enough to your dragon. 

Regarding the reason for your visit, the position you currently were in was more than dangerous, as you had never meant to be pinned between the two men who held more than enough distaste against each other already. 

In front of you knelt your husband, Cregan, the true wolf of the North, and behind you your uncle, Daemon, a hot-blooded dragon that rarely trusted anyone that didn’t share the blood of the dragon. 

Daemon had walked in on you and Cregan, barely sharing more than some fervent kisses in the safety of your provided chambers, yet one or two daring–no, challenging–words of your husband had prompted the Targaryen to dispose any matters at hand and indulge in the pleasures you had offered your husband. 

Back in King’s Landing, your uncle’s visits had always been the ones you had looked forward to most. With Rhaenyra’s departure to Dragonstone with her entourage, court grew more and more boresome, leaving you to the company of your half-siblings and the vipers of the Red Keep. 

But Daemon’s visits always brought a certain tension with him, your encounters limited to longing stares, accidental touches and a lot of unsaid words, and seeing you more or less openly involved with your husband seemed to have snapped any last thread of his already thin resolve. 

The little predicament you had found yourselves in didn’t seem to please your husband at all at first, always being quite possessive of you, but the more you seemed to relax in their proximity, so did he–not without making his claim on you obvious. 

His lips mouthed along your jaw, and eventually settled in the curve of your shoulder, where his teeth sank into your flesh before his lips sucked  a mark into your sensitive flesh. Your wincing caught the blonde’s attention, the scoff he released a stark contrast. 

“Possessive much, pup?” Daemon mocked, and for a second you feared them trading insults at any given moment. Cregan, however, barely drew his head back to meet his counterpart’s lilac eyes, his tongue flicking over the burgeoning bruise while he did so, “Merely reminding her of her place–whose wife she is.” 

Cregan’s gray eyes trailed over your form, watching the way you writhed in his arms the moment Daemon’s skilled fingers snaked around your front to slide between your parted legs, toying with the little bud at the apex of them. Now it was him mouthing along the other side of your neck, and you anticipated him to leave his own mark, though it seemed that something in Cregan’s threatening stare was enough to keep his longing for mischief at bay. 

Perhaps he knew that one wrong step was putting an end to this whole thing straight away, and having lusted after you for years, your uncle was not eager to take the risk, not when his own wife hadn’t touched him in so, so long. 

Daemon’s hand slid into your hair at the nape of your neck, fisting it rather roughly to force your head into his direction. Your lips melted together, and the kiss was nothing short of rough and needy. But you didn’t expect anything else. Daemon seemed as if he had to prove a point, and perhaps he had, but neither you nor Cregan reacted to it. 

Yet that didn’t mean your husband was pleased by the sight of you leaning into the blonde, parting your lips slightly to allow his tongue to slide into your mouth, while his fingers rubbed your bud and never ceasing moans left your throat. Another thing Daemon didn’t dare to do was plunge his fingers into you, even though you wanted it so badly. 

“Sagon iā sȳz riña syt īlva, kessa ao?” he panted against your lips with a smirk that just screamed of smugness, the High Valyrian toppling over them so effortlessly, it had you drooling. You nodded, your lust-blown eyes flickering between his lips and matching pair of purple eyes, seemingly not comprehending a single thing he said. Be a good girl for us, will you? 

But you processed the dangerous growl that came from the wolf in front of you, and you knew better than to test his limits, and his patience. Cregan was a generous lover with very much patience and calmness, and when both things reached their end, it didn’t mean anything good. 

“This cunt is mine to take and claim over and over again,” your husband warned, a sharpness to his tone that was a borderline threat. Daemon raised both his hands in defeat, muttering an ‘all yours’ at him, but instead of whining at the loss of stimulation of his fingers, you charged at your husband, wrapping both arms around his neck, and your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss. They spoke about you as if you weren‘t there, and that sent a thrill down your spine. 

Not anticipating you to seize him, the big wolf wound his muscular arms around your middle, keeping you locked in place while one of his paws brushed from the small of your back down to your arse, slipping two thick digits into your cunt from behind without a warning and any preparations–not that you needed them, being wet enough to have them push in with ease. 

You gasped against his lips at the sudden intrusion, the sound stifled by his tongue licking into your mouth and his arm around your waist tightening. 

Behind you, you finally heard the husky groan of Daemon, indicating that he had fisted his hard cock and stroked himself to the sight of your small frame in the embrace of your bulky husband as he fucked you dumb with his fingers. 

His solid member was nestled snugly between your bodies, and each time you rutted your hips against his hand, the friction it caused against his cock was enough to have him pull back to release grunts and groans. 

“Ready for me?” the brunette asked softly, voice barely above a whisper, and you nodded once again. 

“Use your words, byka perzys,” he said, and the usually smooth tongue was laced with a thick, northern accent. It was charming, and you remembered the evening you two basked in the warmth of the fireplace, lying on the ground merely wrapped in some furs, your legs intertwined, and his flaccid cock still nestled inside of your cunt. He had asked about your ancestors and the foreign tongue, and all but begged you to teach him some basics–the nickname being one of them. Little Flame.  

You licked your lips, “I am ready.” If you weren’t so engrossed in the moment, in your husband’s gentleness, you would have heard the derogatory scoff your uncle released, seemingly unphased by your display of affection.

When your husband tried to move, you stopped him, catching both men’s attention. You looked between them, your eyes not knowing where to settle. “I… I want you… both,” you swallowed, and Daemon was sure he could spill himself right there and then. Even your husband was baffled by your request. 

It was common for Cregan and you to use your other hole every now and then, mostly during your moon’s blood. It wasn’t that your husband was disgusted by your blood coating his member, he wasn’t, but you just did not enjoy it, always worrying about ruining the bed, and even getting embarrassed by it. So, you had suggested for him to try the other hole instead, and after a bit of persuading, he had complied. 

Cregan lay back on the bed, and the only reason he withdrew his fingers from your womanhood was to wrap the used hand around his cock, using your arousal as slick to make it easier for you to take him. You had your hands braced on his broad chest, the dark curls of his chest hair peeking from between your fingers, and hovered your hips above him, until he aligned himself with your entrance.  

You sank down on him, both moaning in unison, and Daemon watched in awe as your cunt enveloped Cregan, sucking him in to the hilt without moving. You were waiting for him. The Targaryen moved to kneel between Cregan’s parted legs, almost a bit too eager, pressing his cock against the crevice of your arse, rutting against it. 

While Cregan’s palms slid around your body to cover the entirety of your arse, gently parting it to give Daemon the perfect view of your unused hole, the other man reached in front of you to drag his fingers through your mound, sliding them around the girth of Cregan’s cock to gather some of your slick. He coated his cock in it just like your husband had done before, and then spat into his palm to spread the liquid over your hole. 

Daemon was eerily silent, too focused on the matter at hand, and only groaned in anticipation when his cock prodded against the rim of your hole. Angling your hips just slightly, you made it easier for him to push in, digging your hands into Cregan’s flesh the moment Daemon breached your hole. 

The man beneath you murmured words of encouragement, something along the lines of ‘what a good girl’ and ‘taking both of us so well’ which made it easier for you to bear the intrusion. 

It was overwhelming for you, especially when Daemon was sheathed inside of you completely, and both their thick cocks filled you to the brim. It had felt different in your thoughts, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either–you just weren’t sure how to move, or even if you were able to move at all.

When you clenched around both of them tightly, they sucked in a sharp breath at the same time, followed by the same, raspy groan, knowing all too well they were doomed to last no longer than two minutes with how tight you were wrapped around them. In any other setting, the similarity would have been amusing, if it wasn’t for you being impaled by them on both ends. 

Both men seemed to notice your apprehension, and knew it was their turn to take over. Cregan moved first, bucking his hips into yours at a slow pace, and after two thrusts of him, Daemon joined, rutting into you. They plunged into you in a steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to the sensations that overtook your body. 

It felt as if every fiber of you was on fire, adding to the natural fire that flowed through your veins, and bringing you to a point you were certain you could never go back to only taking Cregan and not both at once. 

The feeling of both men filling and stretching you in tandem rendered you a drooling mess, and no words were needed to be exchanged–except for their mutual praises. 

Daemon wrapped his arm around your throat, choking you with his muscles, while his lips pressed against your temple, his hot and heavy breath lighting your skin on fire. The sweat that formed at his brow dripped onto your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

“I shall spill myself inside of you,” your uncle groaned against your skin, announcing his impending peak, and you nodded with your mouth agape, whimpering a pathetic ‘Y… Yes.’

This time around, Cregan didn’t seem to mind the proximity of you and Daemon, too lost in the sight of it all, and merely reaching to cup your bouncing breasts to squeeze them and tease your hardened buds. 

You had trouble breathing, and that combined with the stinging pleasure of Cregan’s hands had you cresting through your peak, coming over you in an ambush. 

Spasming around him, Daemon couldn’t hold himself back any longer with your peak driving him to his own, spilling his seed inside of you while Cregan held you up and raced to completion himself, finishing alongside your uncle. 

The grip on your husband’s chest loosened with the weakening of your muscles, only supported by his paws on your hips. 

But there wasn’t really any time for you to dwell in the bliss, not when Daemon pulled out of you mere moments after your peak subsided. Despite Cregan’s cock still inside of you, you felt rather empty, but weren’t able to move as you panted your exertion out. 

The wolf craned his neck to look past you at Daemon, who was already clad in his breeches. 

“Kostā umbagon,” you said and watched your uncle, raising your brow. You can stay. 

Daemon slipped into his tunic and tilted his head to meet your eyes, a hint of mischief flickering in the purple before he nodded toward Cregan. 

“Ao kostilus rual nyke naejot umbagon, yn ziry daoriot.” You might allow me to stay, but he does not. 

You glanced at Cregan, which prompted the wolf to run his hands along your sides possessively, and Daemon scoffed. “Am I right?”

Knowing your husband had no further interest in sharing you, simply tolerating your uncle’s presence because you wanted it, you smiled tentatively, “Yes.”

Daemon crossed back to the bed and leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, to your dampened, silver hair, mostly to annoy Cregan one last time, but also because he had done so many times when you were younger, and because he wanted to. 

“Stark,” he acknowledged, and Cregan bowed his head once without saying anything in return before Daemon left. 

It was the gentle pinch of Cregan’s fingers on your hip that caught your attention again, and you nestled into your wolf’s embrace, head tucked under his chin, while his cock was buried inside of you, keeping his spent inside so perhaps it would finally bear fruit and give him the heir he had wanted all along. 

General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the game part two

read part one here!

words: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, drug dealing, smut, dubcon at first, f receiving oral and handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of anal, cheating

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs

it’s been six months, and you’ve mostly forgotten about your encounter with rafe cameron. you stole his drugs and his money, then hid out. you knew your brother would keep you safe until things died down, giving you ample money for your score, but not wanting to hear the details of how you got into the cameron household.

you rarely think of rafe, except when your pathetic boyfriend comes over to fuck you. he��s sweet, a nice boy, and you like him, but his cock, while average in size, is nothing like rafes, and you find yourself missing his length, craving the feeling of him stretching you out again, even if it was just that one time.

“i think i’m gonna head out on the boat today.” you hum to your brother, looking out the large modern windows of his mansion at the shining sun, making the ocean glitter as it reflects the light.

“mmm, fine. take security with you.” he says, barely looking up from whatever document he’s working on.

“oh come on, i’ll be fine by myself.” you roll your eyes. your brother became even more protective of you after what you did to rafe. he even encouraged you to stay with your boyfriend, who he originally didn’t like. you know that means only one thing, and your boyfriend is now in his pocket as well, probably tasked with your safety.

“baby sis, you stole from rafe cameron. he hasn’t forgotten that shit.” “and he won’t be looking for me out in the fucking ocean.” you roll your eyes, stomping away to put on your bikini as your brother yells, “i don’t care, security is going with you either way!”

you get yourself ready anyways, knowing you need some time away from everyone, including whoever of your brothers henchmen have the unfortunate task of taking you on the boat. you walk out to the dock alone, but one of the men is already out on the pier, standing waiting for you.

“hello.” you mumble, climbing onto the boat and getting it ready, untying it from the dock and turning on the engine, keeping it idling as you make sure you got your necessities, snacks, water bottles, and a towel in case you decide to take a dip.

“oh shit, i forgot a life vest, can you grab one of the other boat?” you ask the man, you think his name is james. or maybe henry. you can’t bother to remember.

“sure.” he climbs off the boat and the second both of his feet are on the wooden pier, you shoot into the drivers seat, gunning the speed and taking off away from the shore before he can stop you.

you don’t bother turning around as he shouts for you to come back. you feel a little guilty about whatever punishment your brother is going to give him, but it’s not like any of the dudes hanging around are good guys, after all they all work for a drug dealer.

you navigate the backwaters seamlessly, having grown up on the water. you head further towards the ocean, away from the grassy islands, letting all of your worries and troubles go as you keep the boat moving at max speed, letting the wind whip through your hair.

you curse when the boat suddenly slows down. you hadn’t even thought to check the gas before taking off, you know your brother usually keeps everything filled. you angle yourself towards a small island, letting the nose of the boat push into the sand, but its better than being stuck free floating.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you groan, rubbing your hands over your face, checking all of the storage departments for extra gas, but of course theres none.

“just my luck.” you mumble to yourself, throwing yourself down on the seat. you can call your brother and have him, or more likely one of his goons, come and rescue you, but you still want some more alone time, so you shuck your coverup off and lay back, figuring you might get the best use of your time stuck by soaking up some rays.

you lay there for half an hour before you hear a boat engine. you’re in a pretty secluded area so it’s quite the surprise. you stand at the back of the boat and wave your arms, hoping whoever it is has some extra gas they can lend you.

the boat is blacked out, windows tinted dark so you can’t see what the driver looks like as the pull up to the sandbar jutting out of the water, also lodging the nose of their boat to hold them steady.

“hey! i ran out of gas.” you shout as the door opens.

“oh, sweetheart.” the voice has your body freezing up as rafe cameron steps into the light.

“ra-rafe.” you take a step back, legs bumping into the side of your boat. you have nowhere to go as he leaps from his boat to yours. “please don’t hurt me.” 

“hurt you?” rafe questions, shaking his head as he steps closer. “hurt you like you hurt me? you used me.” rafe sounds almost hurt before the angry mask takes over his face again.

“i was forced to! my brother made me!” you explain, even though its a lie. it was completely your idea, but theres no way for rafe to know that.

“and you still went along with it. you could have told me, when you were in my house. i could have helped you. but instead, you let me fuck you. you let me inside your pussy. just to steal from me.”

rafe is now hovering directly over you, and you know from his smirk that he’s noticed your shaking body, and the way that you are staring up at him in fear.

“is that how much of a slut you are? you enjoy being whored out by your drug dealing brother?” rafe takes your chin in his hand, not being gentle at all as he tilts your head up to keep eye contact. “you certainly enjoyed bouncing on my dick.” “fuck you.” you try to pull your chin away, but rafe moves faster, shoving you down onto the sofa, the plastic material hot from baking in the sun.

“i won’t hurt you princess, no.” rafe hums, stopping you from squirming around my pressing his weight down even more. “in fact, since you love being a slut so much, i’m gonna fuck you.”

“rafe, please, no.” you whine as his hands grip your chest, ripping away the thin material of the bikini that was barely covering your tits to begin with. rafe ignores your pleas, dropping his head to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while his fingers pinch the other one.

“oh fuck.” you moan, legs widening and allowing rafes body to slot between. you press your hips up, seeking his body as you grind against him, upset that your body is betraying you as your pussy wettens the more rafe sucks and nips at your chest.

“see, this is exactly what i mean.” rafe laughs against your skin, biting the side of your breast and leaving teeth marks. “you were just saying no and now you’re grinding against me. such a little whore.” “please, i have a boyfriend.” you whimper as rafe sucks deep purple marks into your chest and neck, not caring that he’s leaving hickeys behind for anyone to see. he wants to claim you, mark you.

“does he fuck you good?” rafe asks, tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms, pulling them off of you to reveal your messy cunt. “is his cock as good as mine? what about his mouth?” rafe questions, dropping to his knees to the teak flooring, not needing to hold you down anymore, he knows you’re not going anywhere.

rafe buries his head in between your thighs, moaning when he gets a taste of you, what he missed so much since that one night all those months ago. his tongue laps over every inch of you except for your clit.

“can’t have you feel too good, baby.” rafe laughs, biting your thigh. “not when you stole from me.” “i’m sorry.” you whine, feeling tears pool in your eyes as you reach down and tug on rafes hair, pressing his face back into your cunt.

rafe eats you out greedily, tongue traversing over every inch of you that he can, moving between wide sweeping licks and fast rapid flicks of his tongue, still keeping away from your clit.

“oh my god!” you shout when his tongue prods against your hole, lifting your hips up off the seat, unable to keep yourself still as you place one hand on the back of his head, moving your hips and rubbing your pussy against his awaiting mouth.

“such a slut.” rafe laughs, his words vibrating through you as he finally finally moves up to your clit, sucking harshly at your bud, not caring that you’re screaming from the pleasure.

rafe closes his eyes, focus solely on your cunt as he brings two fingers to your entrance, plunging them into your hole as he attacks your clit, taking it between his teeth and tugging on the sensitive skin, making the tears now roll down your face.

“please, please let me cum!” you scream for rafe, your entire body shaking as your orgasm builds, his fingers starting to thrust in and out of you as he doesn’t let off of your clit, sucking it between his lips as your orgasm hits you.

you cry out rafes name, body going taunt as you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as rafe slows his licks on your clit, moving down to lap around his fingers that are still shoved deep in your cunt.

“taste yourself.” rafe commands, moving so you can kiss him. you don’t hold back, taking rafes face in your hands as you kiss him, jutting your tongue up to lick the juices away from his mouth.

“my little slut.” rafe deepens the kiss, starting to thrust his fingers again.

“ra-rafe stop.” you try halfheartedly to push his hand away, “too sensitive.” “you think i give a shit?” rafe laughs, eyes roaming your chest, taking in the bruises dotting your tanned skin. “you stole from me, bitch.” “i’m sorry.” you cry out, knowing tears are rolling down your cheeks, but you can’t stop them, the pleasure is too overwhelming.

“show me how sorry you are by cumming on my fingers.” rafe says, increasing the speed that he’s moving. you moan despite your best judgment.

rafe is somehow able to stuff a third finger inside of your cunt, stretching you to almost painful levels. you thrash on the sofa, the harsh sun beating down on you. you almost forgot that you were on a boat in broad daylight, so wrapped up in rafe pleasuring you.

rafes lips slot around your nipple again, sucking it repeatedly as you arch your back to push your chest further into his mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the attention he’s giving you, so purely focused on your body.

“i thought about you.” you tell rafe, making him pick his head up to look you in the eye, but his fingers don’t slow. “i thought about you when he fucks me. i wished it was you.”

rafe smirks, twisting his hand so his thumb can rub at your clit while he finger fucks you. “i knew you’d miss my cock once you had it. you could have stayed and been my little slut, my personal fuck toy, but instead you had to steal my coke. do you know how much money you lost me?” “i said i was sorry.” you sob out.

“cum then.” rafe commands, and your orgasm builds rapidly, too quickly, and before you realize what’s happening, wetness is squirting from your cunt, soaking rafes hand and splashing onto the teak floorboards.

“holy fuck.” rafe groans, gripping his cock with his free hand, squeezing through his shorts to give himself some relief.

“st-stop.” you say weakly, and rafe finally listens and pulls his fingers out, pushing your legs wider to admire how pink your abused pussy now is, completely dripping in your juices.

“has he ever made you squirt?” “no, never.” you shake your head. 

“it’s a shame.” rafe tsks. “i could have made you feel so good every day.” rafe stands up, glancing around the surrounding waterways, making sure there are still no boats around before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the muscles hidden beneath.

you are boneless on the couch, body completely relaxed and near numb from the orgasms rafe just pulled from you, but despite that you still feel your cunt pulse when rafe throws his shirt onto the ground, quickly unbuttoning his shorts as well and tugging them down along with his underwear, revealing the hard cock that you’ve missed so much.

“tell me you want this.” rafe commands, stroking his cock while keeping his eyes on you.

“i don’t.” you whimper, but your thighs clench together, watching the precum bead at the tip of rafes cock.

“you don’t want me to fuck you?” rafe asks. “but you’re such a slut, baby.” he coos mockingly. 

“please, i have a boyf-”

“don’t mention him again.” rafe cuts you off. “unless you’d like for me to ruin your other hole as well that way no matter how he fucks you you’ll be thinking of me.” you whimper at the thought of rafe abusing your ass and keep your mouth shut.

“turn over.” rafe grabs your hip, forcing you to move on the couch. you place your knees on the cushion, letting rafe bend you over the back of the couch, your head hovering over the water below.

“gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be begging to come back home with me.” rafe says, hands slapping against your ass, making you yelp.

“such a pretty pussy, fuck.” rafe groans, throwing his head back as he pushes the tip of his cock against your entrance, not pushing in yet, wanting to prolong his teasing.

“please.” you beg, trying to push back onto his cock, but rafe grabs your hips and keeps you still.

“are you asking me to stop?” rafe questions. “or are you asking me to fuck you?”

“i don’t know.” you sob, gripping onto the plastic cushion the best that you can.

rafe hums, “that’s too bad.” and then thrusts forward, burying his cock completely in your cunt in one firm push.

“rafe!” you scream out, pussy clenching down, your walls being stretched by his length.

“no wonder i fell for your act, this is the best pussy i’ve ever felt.” rafe grunts out, snapping his forward, the skin of his thighs slapping against your bum.

“faster.” you moan, but rafe does the opposite and slows instead, keeping his thrusts deep but moving steady and deliberately, letting you feel everything as he takes in the squeeze of your cunt, the tightness of your pussy.

rafe grinds his hips against you, his cock making space for itself, pushing against your sweet spot that has you crying out, past the point of embarrassment about your noises.

“so good.” you moan, knowing that you’re drooling onto the couch.

“i know, baby.” rafe moans as well, pushing his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt, dripping with wetness and coating him.

“can tell how much you’re liking it.” rafe moves faster, hands tightening on your hips, certain to leave marks behind. “can feel you squeezing around me.”

you bury your head in the couch, relieved by the cool press against your forehead, pushing back against rafe, rocking your body backwards to the best of your abilities, your knees sweaty and sticking to the couch.

“need your cock.” you swallow the lump in your throat. “need it every day, please rafe, forgive me, i need you, i don’t care.” 

“don’t care about your boyfriend? or your brother?” rafe questions.

“no.” you whine, “just care about your cock.” 

rafe fucks you harder, somehow able to find more depth and space. “well, i guess you should have thought about that before stealing from me, slut. i’ll soak my cock in your cunt this once, but you won’t get it again.” “no, rafe, i need it!”

rafe bends over your back to whisper in your ear, “then you work for me now until you pay back what you lost me. you can steal coke from your brother to repay me and then suck my cock. once you’ve paid off your debts, i’ll start fucking you.”

“i’ll do anything.” you don’t even think about what he’s asking, you don’t care, you’d promise anything to keep getting fucked like this.

“i know, baby.” rafe hums, angling his hips so every time his cock presses in, it hits the most sensitive part inside of you.

rafe reaches one hand down, around your hip, to rub over your clit, placing two fingertips on top moving quickly, trying to get you to cum because he can’t last much longer.

“gonna cum inside of you.” rafe warns, and you whine, clit pulsing under his movements.

“fill me up.” you tell rafe, aching for his cum warming your insides. 

rafe moans out your name repeatedly, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as it can go, letting his cum fill you up. at feeling his release, your orgasm pushes through your body, seeing stars as you squeeze your eyes shut, cunt fluttering around rafes cock, milking everything out of him that you can.

rafe slumps forward, his cock slipping out of you as you both collapse onto the couch, breathing heavily.

rafe grabs your waist and flips your position so you’re laying on top of him. you rest your head against his chest, letting out a low moan in appreciation as rafe strokes his hand over your hair.

“you mean what you said?” rafe asks, his hand not halting as it glides over the strands of your hair and then down your back.

“yes.” you whisper. you’ve felt far too cooped up these last six months. it’s not like you want to be a drug dealer, so hopefully once you settle your score with rafe and pay him back for what you stole, you’ll be able to absolve yourself from everything.

“then you’re coming home with me.” rafe says, helping you sit up.

“i-i can’t rafe.” you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. “i need to get back to my brother, i’m not even supposed to be out without security.”

“mmm, you’ll have to figure it out.” rafe shrugs. “you’re coming home with me to start sucking my cock like you promised.”

“okay.” you whisper, not having any energy to argue with rafe, looking down at your destroyed body, covered in bruises and soaked in sweat, cum dripping out of your pussy.

“hey.” rafe says, placing his fingers under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he presses a kiss against your lips, so unlike your other kisses, not devoid of passion but far sweeter, almost like he’s trying to comfort you despite what he just did to you, what he just made you agree to.

“come on.” rafe sighs, standing up. “put your bikini back on, we’re taking my boat.” “okay.” you stand, figuring it’s best now to just follow rafes instructions, not worrying about any consequences as you put your bikini back on, letting rafe help you off of your brothers boat and onto his own. 

you take a seat at the back while rafe goes to the helm, watching the abandoned boat as you drive away, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into.