#(( i have been meaning to write you a starter for AGES so

[distantdarlings]

STRAY FROM ROUTINE // m. riddle

RATING: R / 4.5K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* You wake up with an evil plan to ignore Mattheo Riddle until he cracks.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, spanking, thigh-hitting, dom!mattheo, sub!reader, mean mattheo, slight breeding kink, controlling mattheo, reader is resisting (but she's doing it on purpose), toxic relationship values, name-calling, degradation, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ride or Die, Pt. 2 - Sevdaliza (I can't get it out of my head :'))

- - -

The inspiration that struck you as soon as you woke up was one of some kind of age-old genius. The motivation that came with it seemed to cloud your mind like some kind of drug, flooding your mind and inhibiting all other thoughts that attempted to enter your brain the rest of the day.

You had always been a bit of a shit-starter when it came to Mattheo Riddle, but today, you were feeling downright sinister.

Your eyes flicked across the room to catch the dark boy’s oaken eyes. His strong hand lifted from the counter to toy with his bottom lip teasingly. Every move was calculated, down to the way his shoulders moved when he took in a breath.

He skirted through his usual routine of tracing his eyes slowly down your body, then flicking them back up to steel his eye contact. For the first few months of your relationship with him—if that’s what you wanted to call it—that whole intimidating facade had worked on you effortlessly. But now, you knew he was more bark than he was bite. That was, as far as you could tell.

You supposed that after sleeping with him so long, he’d have lived up to his whole King Mattheo act, but he'd fallen short. You were disappointed, to say the least. The majority of the entire student body, including some teachers, were terrified of this boy that currently stared you down, but you seemed to be missing something.

Was he good in bed? Hell yes. Could he get mean? Also yes, but where was the difference? As far as you could tell, he didn’t fuck any differently than any other Slytherin boy you’d been with. They were practically all the same. Mean, dominant, and rough. They usually had some kind of ego to keep up—or a tiny dick to compensate for. Whatever it was, Mattheo didn’t seem any different.

He was mean, dominant, and rough. The only thing that had surprised you about him was how gentle he was beneath it all. With every bruising thrust, his fingers cradled your hips gently where others gripped with their nails. With every mark he sucked into your skin, he darted a tongue out to soothe where others let it simmer. He was a rough lover, but he was still a lover. The others were just rough.

That was what had kept you going back to him so many times. But you were getting impatient. It was time for Mattheo to step his game up, or you were going to get bored. You wanted him to prove to you that he was different. But you didn’t want to have to ask for it. You just wanted him to know to do it.

By the time the last of the breakfast crowd had dissipated and the campus prepared for their first periods, Mattheo hadn’t broken eye contact once. Nor had you. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do—for Mattheo or any one else—it was back down from a challenge. If he wanted to tease and stare and frustrate, you’d do the same.

Finally, he stood with the rest of his group of friends. They headed toward the door but his focus remained on you.

The tip of his wand peeked out from the edge of his uniform sleeve and, with a few mumbled words, a small slip of paper had collapsed from the tip of the wooden object. It hit the floor silently, and weaved through the swarm of feet marching through the Great Hall. Once it had reached you, it stopped just before your shoes beneath the table.

At risk of being caught by your friends, you refused to glance down at it. But, just like he always did, Mattheo had thought of everything. With a shiver, you felt the piece of paper slide up your leg like a slithering snake.

It slunk over the curve of your knee and seemed to wait for you to grab it. Ignoring the thought that it seemed to be alive like some sort of bug, you slipped your hand beneath the table and pulled the slip of paper toward you. Discreetly, you opened it up and looked down at it.

How do you want me to take you today? was scrawled in heavy, broad strokes across the sliver of parchment.

You bit back a smirk. That little fucker.

But, no. With the inspiration you had today—the inspiration to push Mattheo Riddle as close to the edge as possible—you weren’t going to allow him the satisfaction.

In fact, you were going to ignore him entirely until he cracked. That was the plan and you were settled with it. While this likely wasn’t the best thing for your own health, you weren’t too concerned. Mattheo Riddle was an asshole, but he wasn’t a murderer. You were pretty sure, anyways.

Satisfied with your decisions, you smiled lightly and pushed the piece of parchment into the first pocket of your school bag. As soon as you returned to your room, it would be placed with all of the other notes he had passed to you. Even though you weren’t wildly impressed with Mattheo’s performance so far, it was still nice to have the dirty, little notes sitting around for a rainy day.

- - -

And throughout the rest of the day, you stuck to your plan like glue. Every stare, every sneaking touch, every whispered word from Mattheo was met with a brick wall. You simply weren’t interested in any aspect of his usual antics, today. He needed to earn what he refused to admit he wanted so badly, which was you.

And by third period, you could tell he was nearly ready to explode. His jaw was clenching and unclenching, his fists were wrapped so tightly together, the knuckles were almost completely white. He was fucking angry—possibly angrier than you had ever seen him. And that was exactly what you had wanted. You wanted him to know that you were a million times different than any of the other girls he’d romanced so far.

He tried once more to entice a little desire from you just toward the end of class. The two of you sat in the last two rows at the very back of the classroom.

The room was elevated with the back rows at the highest point of the room, overlooking the rest of the class. Any secret movements were noticed simply by the backs of heads and a nonchalant teacher.

Mattheo sat directly behind you with one of his unnamed friends to his left, and another to that boy’s left. You were alone on your row. The class was not that big. But this was exactly the kind of environment a sly boy like Mattheo Riddle loved. He would take any opportunity he could to slide his dirty lips against your ear and whisper any deviance that popped into his head at the moment. And that’s what he’d done.

His head had settled just beside yours. You’d heard his breathing before even noticing the heat from his skin radiating onto yours. A shiver passed through your body at his proximity. Annoyed at your body’s involuntary reaction to the dark boy, you slipped your arms beneath the table to hide the chills sprouting across your flesh.

He must have seen them, though, because a small breath of a smirk passed across his face in your peripheral.

“I don’t know what your game is, little girl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you’d better straighten that attitude up, or, I swear, I’ll fix it myself.”

He didn’t say another word before he leaned back against his own seat, leaving you to wonder whether or not this was a good idea. You reminded yourself that intimidation was his shtick. That was the majority of the reason everyone was so frightened of him. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually beaten anyone up or done anything to anyone who’d wronged him. Like you’d said, he was all bark.

Still, despite his threatening words, you simply flipped your hair over your shoulder and completely ignored him. He scoffed, seemingly suppressing a laugh. He was mad. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you right now.

Besides, you were sure you’d never hear the end of it once it was all said and done.

Once the teacher had announced that class was over and recited the homework assignment to a crowd of deaf ears, you gathered all of your things quickly and made a beeline for the door. You hadn’t even given Mattheo a second to gain a bit of awareness before you were out the door and halfway down the hallway.

You didn’t have a fourth period, but Mattheo did. He had Potions for the next hour, giving you just enough time to spruce up your appearance a bit and prepare for the storm that was brewing. You knew Mattheo well enough by this point to know how this evening was going to go. He would threaten your body within an inch of its life, ask if you ‘knew who he was,’ then he’d fuck you. Just like he always did. There was too much of a pattern. Not enough spontaneity to keep you occupied—you needed more. Hopefully, today was what did it for him.

The dormitory you shared with your mates was completely barren due to their schedules. Out of the five of you, you were the only one that had chosen fourth period as your free period. It seemed odd to you that they would rather have a late start to the day, than an early end. In your opinion, you’d wake up as early as you had to, if it meant you did not have to yawn your way through the last classes of the day.

You dropped your bag onto your bed and made for the small desk that was positioned just beside the headboard. It was stocked with all of your personal hygiene products—organized impeccably—and various bits of stationery for schoolwork. It served as both a desk and a vanity for you while you were getting ready in the mornings—or getting ready to see Mattheo.

You hoped he would be desperate all through his class. You hoped his eyes would be flickering around nervously, his knee bouncing rapidly, sweat dripping down his throat. It would be a sight to behold.

Mattheo was gorgeous—there was no denying that. It was just his attitude that needed adjusting. You smirked to yourself before taking a seat at your desk, glancing at your appearance in the small mirror you’d propped up against the stone wall.

And before you were even able to apply a second layer of mascara, the large wooden door in the corner of the room rattled violently. Three aggressive knocks permeated the silence so roughly the dust motes illuminated by the sun shuddered wildly.

A chill of anticipation settled in your stomach. Surely, that couldn’t be him. Fourth period had barely even begun.

You rose from your desk and crossed the length of the room, every step echoing through your body like a cannon. Why were you so nervous? The possibilities of consequences of your own actions were really starting to rattle around in your skull.

Your fingers wrapped around the bronze door handle and pulled.

Sure enough, on the other side, stood Mattheo Riddle. A malicious smirk was printed across his lips. He glanced around a few times, seeming to scan the surroundings of your dorm.

“Hi, is there anyone else here?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet. The courteous role he was playing made you all the more nervous. He never acted this way, even when he’d come to your dorm in the past. He was usually just as brash as he always was, no matter who was in the room.

“No, there’s not,” you said, your voice annoyingly shaking just a bit. “And if you don’t mind, I’m actually pretty busy—”

Just as you started to push the door closed again, Mattheo’s foot slammed against it, completely blocking its path. You tried to push against him, but he was much too strong for you to defend against.

“I’m sure you can spare a few moments for a quick chat,” he nearly growled, never dropping the fake smile planted on his face. His strong arm pushed against the door, rendering your protection of it completely useless. He pushed through and into the room as if you’d never been holding it in the first place.

He kicked the door shut behind him as soon as he stepped through, the door clunking shut with a rough thud. You suppressed a flinch at the loud sound, refusing to show any sign of vulnerability. You couldn’t pull away from your plan now that you were feeling his anger—that was cowardly.

“Mattheo, I’ve asked for you to leave,” you warned.

“Yeah? Just answer one question for me, baby…” he said, stepping directly into your personal space and invading it in every way possible.

As if asking for permission, he raised his hand slowly and let it hover just next to your cheek. When you did nothing, he placed his fingers along your jawline. They stroked gently across a small surface area, insisting that you felt every searing second of contact.

His face came impossibly close against yours. His warm breath fanned slowly across your cheek, hints of fire and cinnamon lingering beneath your nose. The feeling of his lips skirting slightly over your skin on the way to your ear sent a myriad of chills down the length of your arms and a pool of heat between your thighs. You silenced a shudder on its way through your lips.

“Did you act that way on purpose?” he whispered. His lips caressed the curvature of your ear, his hot words curling around the room. “If not, I’ll find a new girl to open her legs when I want. But if you wanted this, I will make you regret ever having turned away from me.”

You swallowed thickly, the sound piercing the blanket of silence that fell around the room the minute Mattheo stopped speaking. It irked you to no end, that the entire world seemed to hold its breath to wait for this boy. This dark, irritatingly impossible to resist boy. It was more than you were able to handle, no matter how determined you were to prove a point.

“What I wanted…,” you trailed off coldly. “Was for you to prove to me that you’re not exactly like every other Slytherin that waltzes in here, comes in ten seconds, and then asks me if I’ve finished. I’ve been waiting for that special something to jump out at me, but it just hasn’t. I’m getting bored of you, Mattheo.” You took a deep breath, gaining enough courage to flatten your face and select your next words perfectly. “Speaking of, I was wondering if your friend, Enzo, was single.”

You struggled not to smirk at his reaction. If you didn’t know Mattheo, you’d have assumed he was going to crash out and leave the room. But you knew him and his destructive tendencies. His rage, though extremely stigmatized, was something to be in awe of, and you were ready to see it. And to be the target of it.

His eyes darkened until they were barely reflecting any of the dim light around the room. His lips parted slightly, just enough for an evil smirk to stretch across his face. He was all dark eyes and sharp canines, and it looked as if he were desperate to sink them into your flesh.

“You’re fucking done,” he whispered menacingly.

Then his hand was around your throat, firm and bruising. He walked you backwards until your back roughly hit the stone wall, the cold rock biting into your shoulder blades. His lips met yours with a fervor you’d never seen before.

His tongue cruelly parted your lips and laid claim to the entirety of your throat. You could hardly breathe with the pressure he was applying around your neck and the force of his kiss. Yet, still, you could not deny the heat building within your stomach and radiating downwards.

His free hand wrapped around your waist, the fingers slipping slyly beneath the waistband of your uniform skirt. Just as always, in the midst of the fiery storm, his fingers were able to imitate some form of softness just long enough for his hand to prepare to rip your skirt away. Despite the roughness he provided everywhere else, his fingers were gentle as they slid along your skin so as not to pinch it against the wall. It was just thoughtful enough to melt your heart down into a broiling golden puddle.

His strong hand gripped the material of your bottoms and pulled them roughly down, revealing the absence of anything beneath, save your blackened tights. When he lifted his hand once more to tear your panties away, he recognized the lack of material within his fingers and growled against your lips.

“You fucking wanted this, you dumb slut,” he spat, his pearlescent teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip. With a whimper and flash of white across your vision, he finally released you, leaving behind a thin slathering of blood across your teeth.

“You wanted me to tear you to pieces,” he whispered, his hand finally freeing your throat, but only to get to work on ripping your uniform shirt apart. The buttons clattered wildly across the floor, rolling freely each in their own directions.

You moved to protest but Mattheo shoved you back against the wall. He shook his head as if in disbelief you’d even try to get away from him at this point in time. In his mind, this was well-deserved punishment. If you were his girl, you were going to fucking listen to him. You knew what you were getting into when you first laid your lips on his.

With your shirt split down the middle, the only thing standing between his lips and your heaving body were a lacy bra and a pair of tights. The cold, gray air hit your soaked body so aggressively, you thought your teeth might start clacking together.

“All this going to waste because you couldn’t ask me for what you wanted,” he whispered. “I’m going to have to destroy this gorgeous body, when it should be worshiped.”

To your disbelief, he sank down to his knees and placed his hands gently on the back of your thighs. His scorching mouth made contact with your thighs—still covered in the thin material of your pantyhose—and he began to place wet, biting kisses along your flesh. He moved slowly from just above your knee to the top of your thigh. Each mean kiss ached as if they were done by a wild animal, but—just as he always fucking did—he soothed them with his skilled tongue afterwards. Never letting you hurt for too long.

Once he reached your core, fluttering in anticipation, he took a deep breath. The scent of your desire filled his senses as if it was his last meal. Just from how he’d loved in the past, you could tell that he was refraining from devouring you. But this was a punishment. No matter how sweet or caring he so often was, he was never going to let you have what you wanted.

“But that won’t do today…” he whispered against the surface of your tights just above your core, so close that his lips brushed across the sensitive skin. You withheld a whimper.

“Seems like it wasn’t happening any other day, either,” you chuckled breathlessly. You weren’t dropping this fucking routine. You wanted this and every inch of teasing Mattheo wanted to give you.

He laid a biting slap across your left thigh. The sound of it echoed throughout the room, only being interrupted by the cry that left your lips at the sudden abuse.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he demanded, his hand soothing the sore flesh.

He pressed one more kiss to the blossoming handprint, before sliding a short nail against the hosiery, ripping it instantly.

You gasped at the sensation, watching as he pulled on the material. It shredded down your leg, exposing your bare thighs to the pale light. Flaming red fingerprints bloodied the soft flesh and marked you as his.

Despite your annoyance at his lack of excitement during the last few times you’d fucked, the feeling of possession that he’d laid on you always made an impression. You felt like you belonged to him in every aspect of the word.

Then before you were able to let another smart-ass comment fly, he slipped his hand beneath the large shear in the tights and ripped a hole right across your aching groin, baring your searing cunt to the world.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Even though he was intending to punish, Mattheo couldn’t help but appreciate your body just a little bit. Though he wouldn’t admit it just yet, he could die happily buried within you.

Seeming to realize his “punishment” was a bit too sweet, he gripped your hips roughly and flipped your body around to face the wall. You helped aloud as the craggy stone bit into the skin of your breasts through your bra. The lace mixed with the cold wall made your nipples prick almost uncomfortably.

“Gonna fuck some manners into you, baby,” he murmured, his gravelly voice echoing against the curve of your spine. His mean fingers traced each nodule of each vertebrae until he reached the dimples imprinted in the small of your back.

His thumbs pressed deep against them, rubbing an easy massage into them for just a second.

“Feel good? You got any other dumbass things to say?”

“Why waste my breath? I’m gonna have to fake my fucking orgasm in a few seconds.”

You bit back a moan as he reached through your legs, gripped the hole he’d ripped in your tights, and widened it between your thighs. He pulled it up and over your ass.

“Yeah? You fake it every time, baby?” he growled into your ear, his heavy bulge pressing into your bare ass.

“Yeah,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your hands were settled against your desk, fingers tightened around the edges, nails scratching into the wood. Your back was arched uncomfortably against his core, begging for every slight thrust he pressed into you. You could practically feel him within you already.

“You fake it every time you cum all over my cock, huh?” he asked. Behind you, you could hear him wrestling his belt out of its loops and dropping his trousers.

“Answer me, bitch,” he demanded, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back against his chest.

“Fuck, Matty, that hurts!” you whined. It was a good, searing kind of pain but you didn’t want him to know that. Didn’t want him to know that your arousal was dripping down your legs by now.

“Yeah? That hurts?” he taunted. “That’s nothing, baby. You can take it.”

Then suddenly, his hot core was leant against the top of your ass. You were biting back a moan and running your fingers into the desk so hard they were going numb. Still, you weren’t going to give up.

“We’ll see if you can give it—fuck!”

He shut you up by slamming himself into you. The force of his intrusion hit your cervix at a sharp angle, sending stars into your eyes.

“Let me hear you fake it, yeah?” he groaned as he pulled himself out of you all the way to the tip before pushing himself back into you.

You couldn’t hide it anymore. Though you could still force some mean comments out every once and a while, you were unable to repress your moans.

“I’m basically an expert at this point!” you moaned.

“I bet,” he growled, his hips increasing in pace. “I know the way you clench around me everytime I take you from behind—” every sentence was pushed out between deep groans that echoed in your womb— “I’ve memorized every possible way you can scream my name…and I’ve learned every single thing I have to do to make that pretty pussy cum all over me.”

Following his words, his right hand snaked around your hip and pressed directly against your clit. He rubbed perfect circles into the sensitive spot, demanding a finish from you as soon as he could pull it from you.

“You’re a bit too cocky for my liking,” you breathed against his ruthless pounding. “I’d still like Enzo’s number.”

And with one final thrust, he pierced the bubble of pleasure that had bloomed rapidly in your stomach. You came impossibly hard, with the evidence of your high embarrassingly gushing around him. He pulled away from you and let your desire cover his stomach.

He laughed almost maniacally at the way your orgasm stretched out for what felt like hours.

And then, as you were finally coming down, he was pumping himself noisily into his hand and coming all of your lower back, painting the dimples he so loved to touch.

He moaned breathlessly, a slight crack in his voice, as he slowed his movements down and came down from his own high.

A tired laugh left his swollen lips as he trailed his finger through the remnants of his spend on your back and pushed his coated fingers into your sensitive entrance.

The overstimulation sent a flurry of ice up your spine. You cried at the sensation. Your legs fluttered before giving out.

On your way down to the floor, he caught you against his arms. Your knees were impossibly weak, but he was ever so strong.

“You faking this too, baby?” he clicked his tongue before settling you against your bed.

“Fuck you,” you sighed, your eyes fluttering against the ceiling. The lightheaded feeling floating through your skull was nearly too much for you to handle, but you were still high up on your pedestal and refused to come down.

Distantly, you could hear him pulling his pants up and rearranging his clothes.

Gently, he slid the remainder of your hosiery down your legs, unhooked your bra, and lifted you up off of the bed bridal-style. Somehow managing to cradle you with just one hand, he used his left to yank your comforter back, and settle you beneath it.

He leaned down beside your ear and pressed his lips to your temple. Just before he pulled all the way back, he began to whisper.

“The next time you wanna act like that—just remember that I fucked you to sleep, brat.”

- - -

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[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

WILL YOU PRAY FOR ME? ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Trying out writing Aegon some more for my fic, 'THE CONQUEROR REBORN'. <3 pairing: DARK! Aegon ii Targaryen x Fem! Hightower! Reader prompt: Aegon finds you praying in the Sept before the Battle of Rook's Rest. This is not a friendly encounter. word count: 1, 298+ words

You had been sent to King’s Landing as a means of assurance that House Hightower, Aegon’s Mother side of the family, was completely loyal to him and his cause. You dreaded it, wishing you had been born a man or married off to some Lord from far away. King’s Landing was in chaos, the common folk struggling to adapt to the changes due to the war. Whilst the Red Keep was a mix of chaotically trying to plan out the war and comforting a fragile minded Helaena. 

It did not help that the predatory eyes that were Aegon’s that followed you everywhere. From when you entered a room until you left, if the walls had eyes then they surely would have followed you there as well. In hopes of avoiding any conflict or attempts of any kind, the Sept became your safe haven. Aegon did not attend the daily mass, nor did he believe in the Faith of the Seven. 

So, those hours long masses were a good enough excuse to get out of the Red Keep and to keep your distance from Aegon. After the rumors of Aegon’s past in Silk Street floated towards your ear, no matter how hard Alicent tried to stop it, it gave you reason enough to keep far far far far away from him. Even if he was your distant cousin and King of the Seven Kingdoms. 

Kneeling in front of the large statue of the Mother, you did not pray for anything a girl of your age and high standing usually would have, not for the blessing of fertility and easy labor. No, you prayed for mercy and peace on behalf of your sweet distant cousin and Queen consort Helaena. The poor girl did not deserve the fate given to her, to marry her older brother and to watch her innocent son be slaughtered in front of her. Helaena deserved peace and mercy. 

Grabbing a match from benches in front of the statue, you light an unlit candle, watching the flames crackle and pop for a second. Weakly smiling at the alluring glow of candlelight, you blow out the match, shifting on the velvet stool in front of the statue of the Mother. Letting out a gentle sigh, you clasps your hands together in a prayer motion, ready to begin your prayers for your sweet cousin. 

“So this is where you run off to.” Aegon states, his loud footsteps filling the once quiet Sept.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“I had hoped for something more interesting or scandalous.” Aegon comments amused, “But, considering how much of a prude Oldtown is, I am not surprised you're here.” 

“Your grace, I was not expecting you here.” You weakly get out, dreading turning around. 

“I can tell. You're tense.” 

Tensing up even more as he points it out, you turn around to look at him, your eyes looking him over. His hair was unruly as ever, only making it more obvious that he lacked the knowledge of a hairbrush of any kind. Though you were sure that he never combed it in his entire life as it was very fit for his character. 

Narrowing your eyes at what he was wearing, the steel chest plate clearly did not fit him, the leather straps holding the chest plate together looking seconds away from bursting. You’d never comment on it, but he would have better luck squeezing himself into a corset than trying to wear that armor.  

“I was taken by surprise by you. Do forgive me for it, your grace.” You mumble weakly, now praying that he would go away.

“I see you are admiring me. I do not blame you. I do look rather dashing, had nearly all of the whores in Silk Street throw themselves at me.” He jests, though it only makes your lips curled up into a disgusted look. 

A poet. No, a drunk. No, no, a whore. Anyone could have come up with a better conversation starter than that. 

“I am sure you enjoyed that, your grace.” You nod, “You look like the true epitome of a King.”

Shifting your eyes away from him, you tense up as he stands beside your stool, dangerously close to touching you. Aegon had always given you an odd feeling, not quite hatred but not quiet enjoyment, more like a neutral contentment. From the cordial conversations at dinner with the rest of the family, he was decent enough. Of course, before he gorged himself on Arbor red and food. 

“Will you pray for me?” He asks, his hand brushing against the side of your cleavage.

“What?” You blurt out, tensing up at the ‘accidental’ touch. 

“I said, will you pray for me, sweet cousin?” He asks, a dark glint in his eyes. “Pray for your King to return from battle unmarred?”

“I will, if you ask me to.” You mumble, feeling forced to comply. 

Cowering backwards as he leans in dangerously close, every part of your body told you that you were not safe this close to him. He was a Targaryen, the King, your distant cousin, and a married man nonetheless. An unmarried woman such as yourself should not be this close to him. Pushing down the fear that bubbled up inside of you, he tenderly touches your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze better. Your lips dangerously close to touching if either of you leaned in. 

Carefully looking over his features, you would never say it aloud, but in another life he would be considered ethereal. Those stunning amethyst eyes and white curls that all Targaryen’s had. Those sharp features that were framed with a soft pudginess from his recent gain of weight. The soft pink under his eyes and on the tip of his nose from restless nights. Remembering where you were, you instantly pull back from him, keeping a distance from him. 

“When I return from Rook’s Rest, victorious, like I know that I will. I will take you as my second wife, I need an heir and you are fit for that.” He states, an almost sinister glimmer in his eyes. 

“But, it is forbidden. In the eyes of the Seven and of the common law. No man should take two wives.” You argue, praying it would be enough to spook him off.  

“I am King, my word is law. Not to mention, twas’ my ancestor who took two wives. Who am I to deny tradition?” He counters, the tone of his voice leaving no room to argue.

No. No. No. Now he cares of tradition? Of duty?

Realizing that there truly was no way to sway his mind on the matter, you sink in the velvet stool, a twindle of defeat filling you. You would be his second wife, his bride. Just a broodmare, someone to warm his bed whenever he called for you like a dog. No one would be able to protest this, to argue on your behalf because he was right, he was King. His word held more power than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. Your fate was sealed, it seemingly was when you were shipped to King’s Landing. 

"But-" You try, but he cuts you off.

“Now, I will expect you to await my return with eagerness, my little bride-to-be.” He whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You don’t speak, your tongue feeling as if it was made of lead.  Even if you could, you could not promise that you would not lash out on him. 

“Oh, and when I do come back, wait for me in my chambers dressed in that pretty little chemise of yours. I liked the one with the pink ribbon.” He whispers, the last part of his words sending a cold shiver down your spine. 

He had been watching you whilst you were in your chambers. For gods knows how long.

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

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@danytar

[lauraneedstochill]

Confess the longing you are dreaming of

summary: Aemond thinks the woman he has to marry is the most impudent and unsufferable he’s ever met. He’s also never wanted anyone so badly. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader (third person, no mention of Y/N) warnings: bantering and teasing, mentions of unpleasant sexual experience, praise kink (guess who’s got it), a dollop of softness, mild smut (... for starters ;) author’s note: couldn’t get the idea out of my head and spent a few sleepless nights writing this. I imagine her brothers as Pedro Pascal and Oscar Isaac ✨ words: ~8000 song inspo: Hozier — Better love

>>> Aemond isn’t present when the idea is voiced the first time — he has a hunch that his grandsire is to blame for that. No doubt, Otto was the one to plan it out, come up with arguments served with his persuasive tone. He’s always loved to make arrangements and strike deals, each one of them to play into his hands, and Aemond hates the thought of being just another pawn of his.

He is blindsided at the breakfast but it’s made sound carelessly mundane — as Otto puts down his cup, he throws him the proposal, the way one would leniently throw alms to the poor. And Aemond thinks he must’ve heard him wrong.

“Marry me to... Who?” the prince asks, hardly covering his surprise.

His grandsire directs his gaze at him, the old man’s mouth twitching into a condescending smile. Since Otto isn’t keen on idle talk, he tells him plainly:

“You’ve long been of age, Aemond, you know that,” his knife scratches the plate as he cuts the meat, his eyes not moving from the prince. “House Martell holds power, and we’ll be fortunate to have such allies. Besides,” he pauses to take a bite, and Aemond gets annoyed at waiting; Otto chews, then adds, “I’ve only heard good things about your bride-to-be. Wouldn’t you confirm, Ser Criston?”

The mention of the knight is unexpected to them both — Aemond turns his head to meet Ser Criston’s puzzled look. But the brunet effortlessly copes with his emotions:

“We met when she was just a kid. But I knew she’d grow into a fine lady,” he easily agrees. Mayhaps, too easily for Aemond’s liking so he makes a note to talk about it later on.

His grandsire only lets out a pleased hum. “Well, I’m under the impression she will make a good match for our prince,” and Aemond feels that Otto carefully picks each word, “She’s said to be both beautiful and smart, and known for being quite independent,” he’s usually so stingy with his praise, it’s worth its weight in gold.

But that is not what Aemond hears. The choice was made for him, and his rejection of it makes him paint a portrait less alluring — a pompous wayward woman raised in the traditions that are starkly different from his; and yet, it is expected of him to accept it freely. His wounded ego simmers at the thought.

“I’d add another word to that,” Aegon chimes in, half-drunk already, “Everyone knows the Martells to also be promisc—”

“Look who’s talking,” Otto glares at him, and Aegon shuts his mouth.

The word is left unsaid, only the meaning of it isn’t hard to guess, and Aemond feels embarrassment creeping up his cheeks and weighting down his chest. He deems himself an educated man, well-read and eager to put his knowledge to the test, but he has yet to learn of carnal pleasures. A memory is clawing out: him, ten-and-three and plied with wine, laid on a bed that smelled of sweat, a naked woman next to him. Despite her tireless attempts, he wanted none of it, and the repulsion made him sick — and then it made him hate the act itself.

He did go to the brothel through the years, tried watching, touching, looked at bodies of all sorts, only it felt like putting paint over a rotten wall. He felt constrained, and lacking in some way (perhaps, in many), and more so awfully incomplete. Not once he sensed a spark, a pleasure he would crave, and no amount of effort could help him fill the emptiness inside.

He quells the feeling, pushes in indifference instead, and glances briefly at his mother. She meets his eye but only grants him a faint smile, her own gaze lacking any protest.

“Her brothers wrote that they would visit in a fortnight,” Alicent peacefully explains. “It is our duty to ensure a royal welcome.”

“Brothers?” Helaena blithely chirps. “How many does she have?”

“Four but only two of them are coming,” Otto tells her softly, then looks at Aemond, adding in a voice more wily. “I am convinced they really want to see whom their dear sister is about to marry.”

He doesn’t spell it out but the implication can’t be clearer — Aemond must play the part and make a good impression. As if impressing just one stranger wasn’t tedious enough.

As if he isn’t vexed already by how unsuitable he finds her.

>>> Frustration grows in Aemond with each day, takes roots, and clogs up all his thoughts. Some other man would’ve been glad — he often heard that the Martells are quite the lovers. He can’t admit it to himself how much he’s bothered by his own misfortunes on the love field.

He bottles his emotions up and doesn’t utter any word of discontent, nor does he ever speak of the awaited visit. Although he makes just one exception.

“My grandsire mentioned that you knew her,” he reminds Ser Criston one day after training.

The knight nods. “I crossed paths with Quentyn, he’s the oldest. She used to come to watch us train.”

“What was she like?” Aemond carefully wonders.

Ser Criston ponders for a minute, polishing his sword. “She was a quiet little girl, kept to herself. A lot of boys were always chasing after her, and she paid them all no mind,” he smiles at the memory. “But I remember one of them who was... particularly pesky. His charms didn’t work on her so he got offended, rude, followed her around. She tolerated him for over a month. One morning, he was hassling her in the training yard, and she just took a spear laying nearby — and smacked him with no warning,” he shakes his head but it’s apparent that he isn’t judging. “She didn’t use the pointy end but she got him good. And then she told him that next time he would think twice about his actions. She was impressive for a ten-year-old,” he muses and puts the sword away, then turns to Aemond, giving him a wistful stare. “Frankly, I think that you will like her.”

He does, for just a second, as his mind rushes to paint the image of a fearless little girl; and then he mercilessly wipes that image off. Maybe in other circumstances, he could’ve found amusement in that story, but Aemond only huffs and thinks back to the list of all her traits he prematurely made up. He adds “rebellious” to that list, and his self-doubt is a venom that clouds his judgment. He’s in no rush to find a cure.

>>> Their ship arrives a few hours earlier than planned — and after the dock watchers break the news, the bustle begins. Maids, servants, guards all run and faff about the castle, the dining hall gets filled with smells and noises, plates and dishes clanking.

Aemond is not excited in the slightest.

He dresses up reluctantly, each piece of clothes only dampening his mood that’s been already sour for the past two weeks. He all but drags his feet into the dining hall and by the time he reaches it, he looks so grim that one may think the prince’s preparing for his death, no less.

The minutes fly too quickly for his liking — they barely have time to sit, his mother nervously toying with the tablecloth already, and then the guards rush to announce the guests. Surprisingly, she’s not among them. The prince thinks he should be relieved; deep down, there is a splash of worry fizzling in him.

Her brothers walk in calmly in a cloud of servants bearing gifts. Their kinship is immediately clear — both tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired, self-confidence subsisting in their every step. The oldest is distinguished by a touch of gray in his short beard, his gaze more focused, a slight smile plastered on his face. The other one shamelessly stares at every maid his eyes can catch.

“Your grace, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Quentyn reaches their table first, and Alicent walks down to greet them. He keeps his distance and his smile, his tone is measured. “We were so sad to learn that the King has fallen sick. But I can tell the Kingdom is in great hands. And —”

“Women’s hands do have a healing touch,” Oberyn smoothly interrupts, his accent a bit thicker, his voice honeyed. “I will prefer a Queen over a King at any given day. Unless, of course, your husband can compete with you in beauty... I somehow doubt that.”

A shade of disapproval grazes Quentyn’s face but Alicent is too amazed to notice. The compliment may come off as blunt but she still takes it well, her smile embarrassed yet sincere.

“I hope you will enjoy your stay,” she tells them humbly, then looks over the crowd. “But may I ask where is the lady we’ve been waiting for?”

“She made a stop on our way to catch up with an old friend,” Quentyn answers, ready to explain, “It’s been years since we’ve met Ser —”

“Still can’t believe he is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,” Oberyn chuckles. “I think it’s all the armor that makes it look like he poses a threat. But you may reconsider if you see him in the nude.”

This time, the older brother glares at him with warning, and there’s a lull in their conversation, while Aemond’s struggling to hear what made his mother’s cheeks so red, his mind nervously preoccupied with someone else —

her laughter enters first.

It’s bright and joyful, a sound so lovely it might be enough to crack up his restraint. But then he spots her, and it feels like his whole body flares up at the sight.

She’s walking with her hand under Ser Criston’s arm, and Aemond’s never seen a dress that covers so much but hides so little. It’s muted orange, floor-length, made of sumptuous silk, with two long slits along the sides, curves of her thighs beguilingly seen through. Her neck and arms aren’t covered, and the material is intricately stitched around her waist to show a few more glimpses of her sun-kissed skin. The waves of her long hair fall on her shoulders and frame her face, each feature of it striking but her lips stand out the most — full, plump, and reddish. Not once before Aemond found the thought of being kissed so tempting.

She doesn’t even turn her head to look at him. She’s talking to Ser Criston quietly, and he’s engaged in conversation, unusually relaxed. Their difference in age is obvious, and the knight seems like just another relative of hers, but an uneasy feeling still leaves a bite on Aemond’s chest. He can’t imagine her so carefree — so beaming and compliant — by his side. His jealousy tastes bitter like a stale wine.

He hears his brother let out a short laugh. “It’s not like they were fucking,” Aegon carelessly notes. “Please ease your outrage before she runs away.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice,” Aemond snarls.

“You do look like you need it,” the blond comments, then goes back to drinking.

She gracefully approaches them, her voice melodic like a murmur of a river. “Forgive me, your grace, for being late, I haven’t seen Ser Criston in some time,” she tells his mother. “He was once a dear friend of mine.”

“I only helped to shush away a few of your admirers,” the knight cackles, earning a smile from her.

“I hope you are making use of all his talents,” she says to the Queen, making her face flush right away.

She delicately moves on to another topic. “It is a pleasure to have you here, you must be tired from taking such a long trip.”

“We found it quite enjoyable,” Quentyn remarks politely. “The beautiful sights along the way are worth the journey, and your city has some great views too.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard great things about your food,” Oberyn grins. “Hence why we took the liberty to bring some of our own,” he signals to the nearest servant, who runs to open one of the trunks they carried. “The dornish fruits are also my sister’s weak spot.”

“As if you don’t gorge yourself on them!” she jests, letting go of Ser Criston’s arm at last. “My brother is a glutton, your grace, please excuse his manners in advance.”

“You can call me Alicent,” his mother corrects her warmly. “Only seems fair to continue this discussion at the table,” she slightly moves away to let the girl go first.

Aemond unintentionally stiffens and only when he stands up from his chair to greet her, she finally does look at him. In contrast to her countenance, her gaze is dark and piercing, and the prince is staggered by how unreadable it is. Her brothers glance at Aemond briefly — Quentyn is pensive, while Oberyn looks like he wants to bite his head off; neither says a word.

She’s seated to his right, and she leaves behind a trail of scent — apples and plums, and he can’t help but catch the movement of her hips under the flowing dress. The words all mash and fall apart, and he can’t pick a single one to strike up a conversation.

Aegon is sitting next to her, and his patience only lasts a minute. “Never knew Ser Criston was such a ladies' man.”

“I’m sure he succeeded on that front but we are merely good friends,” she answers calmly, keeping her eyes on servants bringing fruits — blood oranges and pomegranates, robust grapes, and ripened cherries.

“You two seemed more than friendly,” Aegon presses, his tone evidently taunting.

She picks a golden apricot and runs her thumb over its fragrant surface. “Maybe it’s the wine that makes you see things,” she rebuts and takes a bite out of the fruit, a drop of juice risking to escape her mouth but she wipes it swiftly with her finger. She catches Aemond looking, and his cheeks heat up.

“We’ve never seen him in the company of a woman,” the older prince points out, filling up his cup once more.

She takes out the kernel and eats up the fruit, her mouth glistens. “Aren’t the knights of the Kingsguard forbidden to marry?”

“Never stopped them from bedding whoever they like,” Aegon remarks crudely, and Aemond is thankful that their mother is too preoccupied with Oberyn’s tireless chatting.

“Maybe some men have the decency to follow orders,” she responds, unbothered, taking a cherry and clasping it with her lips. Aegon doesn’t seem to notice and only gulps the wine and rolls his eyes. Aemond can’t look away.

“Aren’t you Martells known for not following the rules? I thought unruly was in your house’s motto,” Aegon argues, a corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.

She takes another cherry, the third in a row, her lips already stained with juice. “I think you keep getting your facts wrong,” she brushes him off, and Aegon goes to object some more but spills the wine right on his shirt. The displeased cry brings Aemond out of his trance.

“He tends to do that when he’s drunk,” the one-eyed prince coolly interjects.

Her eyes flicker to him, then she fully turns her head. “So you can actually talk,” her teasing comes off soft but her gaze still burns. “It’s good to know.”

“You seemed preoccupied with someone else,” he musters an excuse.

“Do you expect your wife to never speak to other men?” her voice almost betrays her disenchantment.

“No,” Aemond quickly answers, caught unawares by how strained his thinking process is. “She— you are free to choose your friends, of course.”

“I’m flattered,” her tone suggesting otherwise, “Not that I would ask for anyone’s approval,” she reaches for a plum; he closes his eye with a sigh.

Aegon comes to stand in between them on the pretext of needing another carafe of wine: “I didn’t mean to interrupt your friendly bickering, please continue.”

“It seems like Aemond isn’t in the mood for talking,” she doesn’t look at him, the tip of her tongue darting to lick her finger. “And I am never in the mood for begging.”

“My brother’s hospitality leaves much to be desired,” Aegon takes a sip. “So I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer,” his hand falls on her chair. “But if you ever wish to be... well satisfied, all you have to do is ask me”.

It’s hard to tell if Aegon’s actually that drunk or merely provoking (or if he’s got a death wish, Aemond wonders).

She replies without much thought. “Well, if I ever find myself in need of...,” she trails off with a smile but her gaze gets harsh — her words then follow, “My choice won’t fall on you,” the smirk falls off Aegon’s face, and she glances straight at Aemond, adding, “I like them taller.”

But her straightforwardness is met with his resistance, with the deep-rooted unacceptance of his lurking needs. He adds “indecent” to the list, and they speak no more.

>>> Her boldness doesn’t pose a problem to anyone but him. To his surprise (or more so to his shock), his mother gives in first.

The morning can’t come fast enough for Aemond after he spends the night tossing and turning. A few hours later he rushes to the garden for a walk, overwhelmed by restlessness his training didn’t help him cope with. That’s when he sees it — a spot of yellow shining through the trees. He somehow knows it’s her without further confirmation but still, his feet carry him on.

Her dress is vivid like a field of marigolds, her hair plaited, wrists adorned with golden bracelets. He slackens pace and peers into her — and he wants nothing more than to drink her up, her whole appearance is the sweetest nectar... Until he hears another sound and realizes she is not alone, and it’s his mother sitting by her side, wrapped in her favorite green and, unexpectedly, in glee. He can’t remember when he saw her laugh like this — out loud, giggling, tears at the corners of her eyes are not from sadness but from joy.

“My dear, that is so improper! Did he apologize at least?” Alicent inquires with a smile.

“Oberyn rarely does,” she tells her serenely. “His lover looked way more ashamed. I hope each of your rooms has locks, gods know I don’t want to walk in on him again.”

Unlike his mother who is covered by the shade of trees, she’s bathing in the sun, the soft light caressing her skin, and Aemond’s eye greedily follows every ray. In barely a minute he feels warm all over.

“I hope that Aemond’s chambers got locks too,” she adds all of a sudden, a bit louder, and his chest is splashed with cold.

His eye moves to her face, and she’s already looking at him, direct and daring. He knows he’s hidden by the trees but there’s no hiding from her gaze.

Aemond turns away and steps back in haste, his abashment mixed with grievance at her implication. He believes someone like her would never lust for him, and her jokes at his expense not only hurt but prompt his resentment to grow stronger. He adds “deceptive” to the portrait of her he is so adamantly set on painting.

>>> She wins Helaena’s heart with ease. His sister fondly compliments her brooch — a little poppy made out of gold — and she gifts it to Helaena the same day. The silver-haired princess grabs at chance to show her own collection, and they spend the day looking through the jewels spread over the floor, sitting right there and equally amused.

And that’s how Aemond finds them. He only planned to see his nephews but hearing her voice coming from Helaena’s chambers makes him slow his step.

“... And this one he gave me for my latest name day,” Helaena babbles cheerfully.

“Aemond clearly spoils you,” she laughs without a shade of envy. “As he should!”

“He is very kind at heart,” Helaena eagerly assures her. “You will be happy with him, I am certain of it.”

There is a pause that makes him feel uneasy, makes him sneak up closer to the room.

“I do believe he’s not an evil man,” she finally says, “Maybe he just wasn’t made for marriage.”

Surely she can’t see him through the door but he can swear that he feels her gaze, like a silent challenge, a hidden mocking. He barges in without a knock.

Helaena beams. “We were just talking about you!”

His sister’s dress is milky blue, modestly pretty, and loosely fitted. It’s also treacherously pale compared to the liquid gold the Martell girl is dressed in. She’s sitting with her feet under her thighs, the bending of her back is bare and in plain sight. He should’ve walked away the second he heard the sound of her voice because not looking at her seems impossible.

“Oh, you came to see the twins? They are with Aegon but I can call— No, I will bring them back myself,” Helaena springs to her feet, rosy-cheeked and smiley, and leaves the room before Aemond can protest. And then it’s just the two of them.

He takes a breath and makes an effort, with his jaw tense and his blood rising, to drag his eye away from her. It feels as pointless as ignoring sunlight in an open field on a summer day. Only her beauty is more brazen — and so is her wit.

“I take it, gold isn’t your favorite color,” she speaks up with an impish tone. “Would be a bad idea to wear it on our wedding then.”

She never comes too close, always just a little out of reach, and yet he feels as if her presence grips him, weakening his will. He doesn’t want to be with her until he is — and then he has no wish to leave.

It scares Aemond as much as it spikes his anger.

“Why did you agree to come?” he bristles.

“You are not asking about your sister’s chambers, are you?” she clarifies, and he hears her smiling.

He tells himself he only needs to cast a glance to check.

He does — he meets her gaze — her earrings catch the sunlight and cast a trail of glares — the scattering of specks play on her skin, her neck and collarbones, sneak to her upper chest — his own is heaving. His struggle only lasts a moment but it leaves him short of breath. He isn’t looking anymore, his eye trying to discern the pattern on the drapes behind her.

“Our marriage, how do you benefit from it?” he hates how hard it is to control his voice.

And how she watches him intently without giving him a clue of what’s on her mind.

“I plan on visiting my family a couple of times a year. It will be easier to do on dragon back,” she doesn’t sound spiteful when she says it but her words still sting.

He can’t stop an image flashing through his mind: her on top of Vhagar, lungs full of air, pressed to him. It’s tempting — to have her in his hands, and yet the vision is too intangible to cling to. Instead, he thinks that in just three days she learned to play him like a harp, his years' worth of self-control is merely a sand castle against the tide of her sharp tongue.

He only snickers dryly at her reply, then they both hear the sound of running footsteps. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys rush to greet him — but almost instantly abandon, the kids' attention drawn to the shining golden dress.

He thinks “unruly” suits her better than does “pompous”. He comes up with a fake excuse to leave; the image of her stays with him.

>>> He picks more adjectives as the week goes on — she’s audacious, disobedient, wanton. She moves around the castle as if she owns every room she’s in. She wears less, and even on rare occasions when she doesn’t, her defiance more than compensates for it. She never shies away from a deep neckline, nor does she feel the need to hold back her resounding laughs. Her jewelry clinks, each of her dresses is brighter than the other, but it’s her wicked mouth his eye always falls on first.

More times than not, Aemond can’t tear his gaze away, each meal for him now both a torture and a feast.

He watches as she parts her lips, puts them around a luscious grape, a cherry, or a peach, she swipes her tongue to lick up every running drop, savoring its tang — and keeps eye contact with him. He barely can taste the food he’s eating, and no wine can quench his thirst, his body flooding with a feeling he can’t define, his heart adrift.

He tries to fight it off with all our strength. He scratches off “unruly” to write down “unabashed” instead.

But then the dinner comes, and even though he’s never had a taste for sweets, he thinks he’d eat them from her lips (deep down, he wants to). The lies he tells himself are brittle like the flesh of fruits under her teeth.

>>> He comes to think “insufferable” fits her the best. That thought rings in his head while he is standing in the stable, his eye on anything but her. He was informed she wished to pick a horse, and he begrudgingly agreed to come, only to keep up the pretense.

What turns out to be much harder is for him to keep restraint. The dress she’s wearing might as well be a chemise — it’s just as light and white, and much to his discomfort, it also tirelessly risks hiking up to expose more of her legs.

Discomfort, mayhaps, isn’t the right word for it.

He stays out of her way but, unsurprisingly, he ends up looking — at how she walks, spring in her step, swinging her hips. She gives each horse a piece of apple and feeds them by hand, strokes their muzzles, and then she mounts and rides them, one by one. She grabs the reins, her foot easily finds the stirrup, and as she swings her leg over the saddle, her dress slips up, showing a few inches of her skin.

He swallows thickly, glances more intently — over her dainty ankles, bending of her knees, he notes how smooth her skin is, soaking up the sun. Her dress then billows slightly, and his eye glides higher, hungry, follows up the contour of her thighs that bounce a little as the horse gallops.

He feels it blooming — a sensation with no name that travels from the lower chest down to his very navel, then spreads and tightens all that’s underneath.

He is so deep in his enthrallment, he doesn’t hear the steps approaching until there’s someone standing next to him. Quentyn stays silent for a minute, throwing him a sideways glance.

“My sister’s always been terribly picky,” the man says out of the blue, “And usually it’s hard to meet all of her demands,” — it doesn’t seem like it’s the horses he is talking of. The vagueness of it makes Aemond focus as he takes his eye off her but Quentyn doesn’t elaborate, giving him a smile instead. “I do admit, your patience is commendable. Some other man would’ve already interfered just to wrap the process up.”

“I was under the impression she doesn’t need anyone’s help,” Aemond replies evasively.

“You guessed it right,” Quentyn titters, his tone veiled with the same unclear meaning when he adds, “The only thing left for us all is to accept it,” and with that, he goes to join his sister.

When Aemond — tamely, almost yielding — takes a peek at her, his gaze collides with Oberyn’s who clearly watched them talk. Unlike his older brother, he prefers to stay away, but the mischief in him pairs really well with danger. He grants Aemond a nod, switching attention back to her, his threats unspoken for the meantime.

For just a second, it gives Aemond pause as he finds it odd that no one brings up their wedding, and no announcements have been made ever since she came. He doesn’t mull over it for long because her laughter interrupts his thoughts (or maybe he just yearns for any chance to look at her). She rides around the yard, her hair floating in the wind, a little breathless but breathtaking, her lips enticing and her curves making his throat dry.

He tries to ground himself, to look for explanations, for some reprieve from the entrancing spell he’s under — he’s never been so close to losing reason —

out of the corner of his eye, he sees a couple of guards dropping their gaze in poor attempts to stop themselves from gawking; it reins his passion, bringing back his jealousy instead. He’s way too used to seeing himself unworthy to even entertain the thought of having her, and his denial prickles. He wants to burn his feelings out, and anger helps with that — it breaks out and engulfs him fast, hardening both his heart and gaze.

“Quentyn is the friendliest of the two, and you couldn’t hold a conversation?” Aegon appears out of nowhere, seemingly displeased despite the bottle in his hand. “Must you always be so gruff? I stayed behind in hopes you’d make it work!” he waves at Oberyn then glares at Aemond, waiting for a reply. “Are you pretending to be deaf or...?”

“Must she test my patience?” Aemond mutters, his tone not jealous but exasperated, his eye boring into her, “Putting herself out like that for all the men to see.”

Aegon being speechless is a rare sight. He cannot fathom it at first, looking from Aemond back to her, confusion sobering him up. And then he grins, realization creeping up on him; there are some things he’s always quick to notice.

“It’s funny that you say that,” he leans in to tell him and catches Aemond’s gaze, “Since it’s just you who’s staring,” Aegon pats him on the back and leaves to greet her brothers.

Aemond tries to choke it down — his irritation and his shame combined, but it’s too much for him to handle, his head and heart clearly in conflict. He doesn’t wait for her to make a choice, retiring without sparing her a glance (a fear nibs at him that if he looks at her once more, he will stay rooted to the ground).

He doesn’t leave his chambers for the remainder of the day, dining all alone and fuming all the same. He’s usually good at curbing his emotions but he is having trouble understanding them, wanting nothing more than to erase all memories of her. But even in his solitude, he catches himself thinking — about her cunning smile and swaying hips, her eyes on him, his hands wanting to roam and touch and —

Aemond shoves unwanted thoughts away and goes to bed earlier than usual. He remains steadfast in his resolve to find some peace, he makes a conscious effort to shift his focus to all the boring, random things his mind can come up with until he is too tired to care.

But then he falls asleep, and his subconscious welcomes her. He sees her right before his eye in that obscenely short white dress, there are no people in the yard, her tantalizing moves all meant for him. She hops off her black horse and walks to him without a single word — anticipation makes him drop his guard and hold his breath — and then he feels her lips on his, her body pressing into him, his hunger for her ruining his self-control, the kiss is searing, suffocating, driving him insane, his fingers pulling up her dress —

he wakes up painfully aroused.

He lays in bed, his heartbeat rushing, his breathing ragged, and vision blurred. While he’s still grasping for the remnants of his dream, he sneaks his hand into his breeches, wishing he could rip her dress off and sheath himself inside her, spread her on his bed, and drink every salacious sound she makes... It only takes him a few strokes to spill over his fingers; he can’t remember if he’s ever reached his peak so fast.

And only then, as he comes down from his high, it hits him, like lightning in the dark — in spite of her remarks, her audacity, her dresses, and every cruel adjective he’s found for her, he’s never wanted anyone so badly. Aemond sits up abruptly, his sleep gone, giving way to stubbornness that comes hand in hand with reticence. He persuades himself that he’ll suppress this — the spark, the pleasure that he craves, and he won’t be a slave to his desires.

He’ll rid himself of feelings, of this lust. Inevitably it will wane.

>>> It doesn’t.

Desire is a guest that never leaves, unwanted but demanding space, attention, time. It slips into his thoughts the moment he wakes up, it whispers in his ears, never giving up, it’s layered in between his clothes and his skin. He hides it well from everyone; it lodges deeper into him.

Desire is a cherry in her mouth, each fruit she bites in, savors, drinks the juice from. He doesn’t want to watch — he can’t take his eye off her, caught in his fervor like in undertow, the flavor of her lips the only one he truly yearns for.

Desire bruises more than does a hit, cuts deeper than a blade, and there’s no weapon he can fight it off with. His training brings him no relief, and he can’t sweat it out or wash it off him, and even while he soaking in a bath, it feels like longing only rises back with steam.

Desire waits for him at night, stands by his bed, slides right under the covers with him. He dreams of her, and in those dreams, her body sings under his every touch, trembles from his praise, his hands and mouth paint her with marks and kisses. He wakes up with his chest aflame and out of breath, and then it takes all of his willpower not to crawl to her.

It staggering how much he really wants her, and he hates himself for it.

>>> It’s been three weeks and they have barely shared a word. He does his best to cut down their encounters and avoid her, he doesn’t argue and takes no offense, he hopes that if he pulls back just enough she will give up and let him be.

Aemond spends his evenings in the study, his table piled with books, and for a couple of hours, it does help to take his mind off things. The night already steals in while he’s searching through the shelves for scrolls, too caught up in the process to pick up the creaking of his door.

Her gaze nearly scalds him. He only looks up out of surprise — and then he freezes at the spot, his heart a stone that plummets to his stomach.

Out of everything she’s worn, this dress might be the one to bring him to his knees — the cutting out the front so low, his eye falls in the hollow between her breasts; he envies fervently the golden chain that rests there. He takes in her whole body, bare arms, and flaunting forms, all clad in deep dark green. He’s never seen her pick that color (and he can’t help but think she put it on for him).

He’s brought back from his stupor when their eyes meet — and startled by the determination in her gaze.

“Ser Criston told me that you missed your training,” she stately starts walking toward him, “Quite a few times this week.”

“I found myself preoccupied with other things,” he clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back, the scrolls forgotten.

“With reading, I assume?” she almost sounds aggrieved (he wants to ask what else she’d rather have him do) but then her tone gets jaunty. “Would you mind if I join?”

“Actually, I would,” Aemond takes his eye off her, his coldness feigned. “I’d like to avoid distractions.”

And more than anything, he would like for her to leave; she’s not the one to give up so easily. “Maybe we can learn some things together?” she nonchalantly insists, and that ambiguity — deliberate or not — leaves his face suffused with pink.

“I highly doubt you take interest in the things I study,” he manages, his crudeness biting his own tongue.

She only sneers, already nearing his table. “You surely rush to judgment.”

“And I am never wrong.” (Although he’s been wrong once before.)

“That’s very humble of you.” (And she’s tenacious with her intent to prove him wrong again.)

“I am surprised you know that word,” he replies too hastily — and instantly regrets his outburst.

And his attempts to get away from her could’ve been valiant, but only left him feeling like a coward.

She’s got enough courage to spare. “Oh, my apologies, did I strike a nerve?” her hip grazes a stack of books. “You sound so displeased with my behavior,” she puts her hands right on his table, her cleavage in full view.

“You interrupted my studies,” he’s looking only at her face.

“Just this one time,” she clears up, her sly smile is a dare, “Sounds like you have quite a few complaints.”

Damned be her dress and the day he laid his eye on her. “It’s clear as day that we have nothing in common,” he hisses, her persistence molding his anger. “From your bawdy humor to your reckless behavior and your...,” he struggles to push the word through his mouth, “vulgar dresses — everything suggests that we will never make a good couple.”

He catches a gleam in her gaze but it’s not threatening nor hurt — and when the corners of her mouth curl up, her face expression actually looks amused. “I didn’t realize my presence tormented you that much,” she crosses arms over her chest, her hands under her breasts; he looks away that very instant. “So will it please you if I take my vulgar dresses and go back home and leave you be?”

He wants to say it will — he’s thought of it for days — but now he isn’t sure. The dreams he has of her will hardly be enough as every image he collected has got nothing on the real form.

“Is there anything that does?” she asks him suddenly and takes a step in his direction, and then another one.

Belatedly, he realizes that he’s backed against the wall. The air in the room heats up, and Aemond moves back to his table, fingers holding to its edge to find some balance. “...Does what?”

“Please you,” she swiftly clarifies, now standing at arm’s length.

“That isn’t any of your concern,” he wants to glance away and yet, his eye is drawn to her.

“I am inclined to disagree,” her lips stretch into a smile. “Shouldn’t a wife know how to make her husband feel good?”

“We are not married yet,” he tries to argue weakly.

“I’d like to learn beforehand,” but her assertiveness works quicker than his doubts.

The time is still, and seconds drag like hours. His heart leaps at the thought of being all alone with her, his concentration crumbling, his self-restraint already hanging by a thread.

“The way you look at me suggests you aren’t averse to the idea,” she tells him in a low voice, her eyes two glowing embers. Aemond gulps, she deftly rounds the table. “You act so cold and so collected,” she muses, coming closer, and he helplessly steps back. “But I am yet to meet a man who would deny himself the pleasure of laying with a woman,” her voice is warm and warming; his legs bump into the chair, prompting him to sit.

He hesitates for barely a moment but his quick reaction fails him because the next thing he knows, she’s standing next to him, her golden chain casting a blinding glint — he blinks — and then she’s straddling him, her thighs on either side of his.

Aemond’s mouth falls slack as he becomes aware: to lift her he will have to touch her. He glances down at her legs that sneaked out through the long slits of her dress, all bare to the very hips before him.

“I wonder if you are too spoiled by the attention of the ladies? Mayhaps you’ve got so satiated, the intimacy doesn’t bring you any joy,” she runs her fingers up his chest.

He only finds it in himself to shake his head. She isn’t satisfied with that reaction. “Or do you simply find it boring and have a taste for something else?”

Objection bubbles in his throat but he gets no chance to voice it — he barely registers a clinking sound before he feels cold steel pressed under his chin, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of his own dagger. He meant to leave it at the training yard but it completely slipped his mind.

“Does this work better? I’ve heard that you Targaryens have peculiar tastes,” her other hand lands on his shoulder, his chest is stirring with emotions he can’t read.

“That’s not— No,” he mumbles, his voice raw, the weight and feeling of her body overwhelming.

She cocks her brow at him in disbelief. “No? So it’s just plain old satiation then?” she makes no attempt to press the blade but her questions do get pushy. “Must be so hard when women throw themselves at you ever since you were... What was it, ten? Twelve years of age?”

He would expect her to sound teasing — instead, he hears disappointment. That’s the reaction he is used to getting.

“My brother took me to a pleasure house when I was ten-and-three. He said it’s time to get it wet,” he forces out, “And it was...,” awful and humiliating, something he wishes to forget, “...Not what you are describing.”

Her face expression changes — first surprised, then splashed with sadness, and her every feature softens. Aemond sees her opening her mouth to speak but he averts his gaze, abasement scrabbling at him. His eye falls closed, and he keeps thinking that now she will get up and leave, and there won’t be any wedding, and he’s got no reason to get so overly upset already, and —

she sheathes his dagger without a word, the unexpected movement making him breathe out.

And then she dips her head down, and her lips fall on his jaw. Aemond inhales sharply. Her mouth feels softer than it was in all his dreams, and she plants kisses down his throat, moving to the part of it the blade was pressed to. He doesn’t know where to put his hands while hers lock nimbly around his neck.

She pulls back slowly, and he dares to look at her again, trying to catch the merest shadow of pretense but there is none.

“I am truly sorry that you had to go through that,” she tells him quietly. “Have you tried some more since then?”

“I did,” his answer comes off hurried, blank, “I... I am aware of how the act is done.”

“How the act is done? Aemond, that doesn’t sound enjoyable at all,” she pouts, then gently caresses his face, her voice a tender whisper when she adds, “But it should be.”

He stiffens, waiting for the discomfort to wake up, for the aversion to coil his guts, to trigger the jarring need to move away. None of that happens. Instead, he feels her fingers running through his hair, a calming motion bringing only comfort, her every touch relieving tightness in his chest.

“You seem too tense... We have to work on that,” she joyfully murmurs. “Unless, of course, my worry causes you distress,” her fingers stop, “Do you want me to leave, my prince?”

“No,” he rasps, he almost pleads, “D-don’t.”

She hums with satisfaction, bringing her hands down to unclasp his leather doublet, knowing she won’t meet any resistance. He should resent her for this but he doesn’t (he didn’t and he won’t). The air lays cold over his shirt, and Aemond shivers; she moves her fingers down his firm chest with an unspoken admiration.

“Tell me how it usually goes,” she inquires, one of her hands finding its way back to his silver locks. “Do you find pleasure in undressing them?”

Her warmth envelopes him, scented with cinnamon and peaches. “They come without much clothes,” Aemond blurts out, earning another hum from her.

“And what about you?” she glances curiously at him.

“I don’t... I don’t like them touching me,” he timidly avows, and saying it to her does bring somewhat of a relief.

With both of her hands, she cradles his face, thumbs gently contouring his cheeks — he all but melts into her palms. “And yet you are so responsive to the touch,” her voice praises, “So pretty.”

She leans in again, leaving a kiss at the hollow of his throat — and then her mouth travels up, ardent and steady, and he squirms in place. Not out of discomfort.

“You are not supposed to rush it if you want it to feel good,” she whispers in his ear and moves back to catch his gaze. “You never rush into fighting so why love making should be any different?”

Astonishment brightens his face, and she chuckles lightly. “I must confess, I did enjoy watching you train, even though you never noticed. The way you move and twirl your sword,” she’s recollecting breathy, “You are so lithe and fast and so resistant... An infatuating sight.”

She holds his gaze and lifts her hand — he follows it, unblinking, until it finds one of the straps — she hooks it with her fingers. “Fairly soon it made me wonder how would your hands feel... on me,” his heart jolts at her words.

Slowly, she moves the strap aside, baring her breast for him; Aemond’s breathing hitches. She takes his hand in hers, planting a kiss over his knuckles — and then lets his fingers graze her naked skin.

“It was so cruel of you to rob me of my pleasure,” she laments, but he can barely hear a thing, his eye wide as he fixes on the soft swell of her breast, on how her nipple peaks so eagerly under his touch.

She guides his hand over her chest, down to her ribs and waist, letting him brush her every curve, placing his fingers firmly on her hip. And then she reaches for his other hand and lowers the other strap; his body trembles. The layers of his reticence are all peeled at once, leaving his desire raw and undisguised, unshackled. He’s drawn to fondle, clutch at her plump breasts but her grip is tight and taunting, not letting his fingers roam free.

Still, when both his hands sink into her hips, he realizes that he’s getting harder by the second.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by her. With a controlled, torturously slow move she drags her clothed core over his straining cock. His mouth stays closed but there’s a sound — a muffled moan caught in his throat.

“Doesn’t this feel good?” she teases, lightly tugging on his hair, her lips reaching the column of his neck. “With how much you read, I hoped you’d be more generous with words,” each of her kisses weightless like a drop of rain but then her mouth finds a spot below his ear and suckles at it, pulling a whimper from his chest.

He thinks he should... his mind goes blank after another movement of her hips, and she picks up the pace, merciless and sensuous. He tries biting down his moans but only hurts his mouth. She notices, her rapt eyes on him, and puts her finger on his lower lip:

“Please, don’t be shy with me,” she coos, her gentle touch soothing his bitten flesh, “Our desires coincide,” she earnestly affirms him — and the spark erupts and drags him into pure bliss.

He feels that his arousal leaks, his breeches way too tight to hide it, his fingers dig into her supple skin, but she gives no complaints. He watches breathlessly through his hooded eyelid as she grinds against him, then looks over her bouncing breasts, her nipples pebbled, and the pressure curls somewhere down his spine. She peppers him with kisses — the angles of his face, neck, everything that she can reach, except for his desirous mouth. And yet the softness of her lips and hands, her skin that’s draped with the redolent scent, the rhythm of her hips all bring him closer to the edge.

Her forehead is pressed to his, their lips an inch away but never fully touching. “Let go for me,” she says against his mouth, “My handsome, fierce dragon.”

That does it for him. He harshly presses her to him, then shudders with a strangled moan and comes undone, his eye squeezed shut as her name quivers in his mouth. The pleasure whirls him in and leaves him drained and stunned, a little bit light-headed.

It takes Aemond a minute to recover before he finds her gaze again — and in another minute he discerns her shallow breaths, her parted lips, brows slightly furrowed. He wants to ask her if she reached her peak, if he can help her with it —

but she pulls back.

She stands up and only briefly grabs his shoulder, steadying herself, then promptly puts the straps back on, fixing her dress. He wants to lend a hand but she moves it away, leaning in to lightly caress his face. “No, you don’t get to have me yet. I want you to admit it first, to say that you want me,” her words are laced with dignity but cooling to his mind.

She steps back, cruelly fast, the only consolation is her naughty tone. “Until then, I have to satisfy myself some other way. But I will think of you while doing it, my dear prince,” she promises, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and then walks out without looking back.

The silence feels unwelcome in the room and hangs over the ceiling like a cloud, but Aemond he is too dazed to move, spent and perplexed to wrap his head around it.

Desire, it seems, has come to stay.

But it’s not the only thing he’s feeling.

✧... YES, there will be a second part, it’s already in the works! ✧ and yes, I didn’t bother to rename Pedro’s character 'cause I adore Oberyn sue me

✧ just to clarify, I usually age Aemond up to 20 (or however old Ewan looks to you ;) ✧ I got inspired after watching the video for ROSALÍA’s “La Fama” (give it a watch, she is soooo 🥵) but I only found it because of this gorgeous gifset so shout-out to OP for giving me inspiration

✧ my recent fic (couples who kill together, stay together 🔥) ✧ my masterlist

thank you @amiraisgoingthruit for letting me tag you in every silly story of mine, hope you’ll like this one (if anyone else wants to be tagged, don’t be shy)

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

[theemporium]

Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.

It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship. 

He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.

And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.

Until he met you. 

The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.

Luke was the first to notice something really odd.

“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.” 

And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.

“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”

And then it was Nico.

“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.” 

It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.

But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes. 

It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.

“Are those your own skates?” 

You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.

“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”

“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.

“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes. 

“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?” 

You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head. 

“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”

Ellen simply smiled in response.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression. 

“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.

“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.

You watched him closely. “Jack?”

“Hm?” 

“How much did these skates cost?” 

The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over. 

“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up. 

“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”

His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”

“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”

“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.

You shot him a look.

“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”

“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”

He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”

“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”

Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”

“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”

.

[sstrwbrryccke]

I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)

HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!

the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)

— sponsor | sub park sunghoon

tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship

you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.

the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.

you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.

a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.

when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape. "aish..."

"ah, sorry."

"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.

"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.

"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"

"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.

he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."

"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."

"yes sir." he replies without much thought.

you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.

"you caught my eye in the performance."

he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."

"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that. "oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.

"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."

his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"

you chuckle, "yes, really."

☆★☆

perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.

you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.

"did you see the spin?"

"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at. "issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.

after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.

the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.

he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.

"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"

"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"

"yes."

you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.

☆★☆

navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.

"what are your expectations for me?"

and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.

"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."

he looked determined, continuing on. "is sex on the table?" he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...

"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.

"i see." he pulls back, shy again.

"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.

he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.

"i am."

☆★☆

and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.

training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.

"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.

"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.

it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.

sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.

but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.

you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.

you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.

gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.

and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.

☆★☆

you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.

“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”

you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.

“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”

“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.

“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.

“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”

he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.

“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”

you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”

he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.

“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.

“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”

your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”

he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.

“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.

“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.

“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.

“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.

“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.

“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.

not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.

“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.

“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?

“come for me hoonie, come for me.”

his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.

it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.

“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.

“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”

you guys share a look before laughing.

☆★☆

everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.

before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!

snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.

after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.

☆★☆

sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.

you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.

“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.

your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.

“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.

“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.

“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.

you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.

his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…

that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.

his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”

you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.

“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.

“anything for the olympic winner.”

[hakuheartsoul]

rainy daze ✧ yoon keeho

✧ pairing: keeho x afab!reader

✧ summary: you don't fear much, but there are a few things - storms, for one, and also unnecessary feelings. enter yoon keeho, someone you've known for a long time and makes you question where you stand, but there's one small problem: he's your little brother's best friend.

✧ genre: childhood friends, fluff, smut, some angst sorry in advance)

✧ rating: 18+ (mdni!)

✧ word count: ~14.8k (oops)

✧ content warnings: attempts at humor bc keeho is funny irl, mentions of thunderstorms/lightning, 'oh no there's only one bed' trope, mentions of ✨feelings✨, dirty talk, hair pulling, leaving marks/biting, oral (m and f receiving), face-sitting, face-fucking, hand-holding (important), cum eating, irrational decision making

hi!! i’m still pretty new to writing for piwon and i'm so excited to be participating in the piwontober 24' event hosted by @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts.

i'm writing for Day 29 in which the prompt was age difference/teasing/forbidden with keeho. special thanks to @sunflowerseob, @strawberry-seob, and @leepace for being some of the most amazing friends and fellow writers out there ❤️

also am planning to turn this into a series sooo… pls look forward to that if it happens 💜

“Keeho, I’m serious.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, as if it would somehow shield you from becoming more drenched. The rain that poured down wasn’t at a storm level yet, but it was still enough to leave you soaked since you had no umbrella or jacket to help.

“Yeah, I know you are, but so am I,” Keeho responded, still cruising along at the slowest speed you figured a car could go. He drove his car on the road alongside you as you walked on the sidewalk.

“Is that how the saying is supposed to go?”

You couldn’t see it without bending down to look through the open window, but you just knew Keeho smirked.

“It is now if that’s what you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “What I’d really like is for you to leave me alone.”

You heard a small chuckle. “All these years and you’re still a terrible liar.”

You groaned. “What do you want from me?”

“To get in the car,” He phrased it almost like a question, like he was confused that you didn’t agree it was the most logical answer.

“Why?”

“For starters, it’s raining and you have no coverage to keep you from getting soaked. Two, you’re trying to go home which is several blocks away and you’re trying on foot, which isn’t safe just so you know.”

If he wasn’t driving you figured he’d probably be listing off reasons on his fingers to better prove his point.

“Three, you’re upset. Need I go on?”

“How do you know I’m ‘upset’,” you asked him in air quotes before quickly putting your arms back around yourself. “And how does getting into a car fix that, exactly?

“Well, the car can’t help with you being upset probably, but getting into the car is a good first step.” His tone was teasing before it shifted into something more serious. “And I saw you at the party, arguing-“

You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your mouth. “Of course. I should’ve known.”

Despite saying it quiet enough for the rain to drown it out, Keeho still heard you somehow.

“Should’ve known what?”

“My brother put you up to this, right? He forced you to come look for me because I left.”

It was Keeho’s turn to scoff. “You know, contrary to what you may think, I’m not always at your brother’s beck and call.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You tried to speed up your walking, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

Keeho accelerated slightly, first going past you and slowing back to a speed that matched yours.

“What did you mean by that,” he asked.

“Oh, come on, Keeho. You know that you guys have been inseparable since we were all kids and I don’t really think college has changed that.”

To your surprise, Keeho laughed. “God, as smart as you are, I’d have thought you’d know better by now.”

It was your turn to be the confused one. “Elaborate?”

“If we were as inseparable as you say, don’t you think your brother would be my roommate? We’d be sharing the same space, right? If we really have to be together all the time.”

Keeho had a good point (but you’d never tell him that). Your brother still lived at home with your parents, claiming that it was less expensive that way since apartments were ‘overrated and not worth it’ in his words.

So yeah, come to think of it, you actually hadn’t seen him and Keeho hanging out in person a lot lately.

“We aren’t kids anymore,” he continued when you hadn’t responded. “And you shouldn’t treat me like one just because you're older.”

You weren’t backing down. “3 years is still a pretty big gap-”

“Oh sure it is - if I was 17 and you were 20. I’m 23 and you're 26, there’s really no need to consider age in the equation at all.”

You sighed loudly, finally turning to face the car. Keeho hit the brake and leaned forward with his body angled over the passenger seat so he could see you better.

“Where are you going with this? Or is it all just mindless chatter?” You were still stalling for time before you’d probably cave and just get in the car; questions were your best bet for that right now.

That signature smirk was slapped across his face. “Always assuming I’m up to no good.”

“Keeho.”

“Look, I came after you because I saw you both arguing and you stormed out, clearly not doing well. I’m your friend too - or at least, I’d like to believe I am,” he cut himself off for a moment, almost like he wasn’t sure how to continue. “And I care about you. Honestly right now, I couldn’t give any less of a fuck about what your brother thinks.”

Well that certainly threw you for a loop.

“Why?”

“Why what,” he asked, leaning more across the seat where you could finally see his face, clearly illuminated by the streetlight you had stopped under.

“Why me over him? Isn’t he the one you’re loyal to?”

Keeho groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “For the love of- would you please just get in the car? I can tell you anything you want to know, just please stop standing in the rain getting fucking soaked.”

Again, he made a good point. And now that he’d stated he wasn’t doing this for your brother (jury was still out on if you believed that or not) you figured it wouldn’t do you any harm to get in the car.

A loud crack of thunder overhead made your decision for you, causing you to nearly fall all over yourself to get into the car. You landed in the seat with a wet thud, cringing instantly at how your clothes were clinging to your skin.

Keeho let out what sounded like a content sigh. “Finally.” He turned up the heat in the car and put it in park.

“Don’t want you getting sick, if we’re still able to avoid that at this rate.” He picked up your hands that were in your lap and held them up to the vents on the dashboard.

“You were rubbing your hands together outside and they feel like fucking ice so hold them here for a bit.”

“Is it really a good idea to stay parked on the street?”

Keeho shrugged. “Not a big deal. This street doesn’t usually get too busy at night, and they can just go around me.”

You nodded at the reasoning as you slowly started to regain feeling in your hands again. Another boom of thunder made you jump, which unfortunately for you did not go unnoticed by Keeho.

“You still scared of thunderstorms?”

His tone was light so logically you knew he was genuinely just curious. However, you were very defensive about this subject in particular, so you weren’t taking it that way.

“Yes. And don’t you dare try and tease me about it.” You crossed your arms and looked out the passenger side window.

Keeho chuckled softly. “No judgment here. Of all the things I want to tease you about, your fears aren’t on that list.”

That got your attention.

You turned to face him again, noticing how he had unbuckled his seatbelt so he could angle himself more toward you. 

“What was that?”

“What was what,” he asked, smile stretching across his face again.

“That you just said, about teasing - what was it?”

“Hmm, not sure I know what you’re talking about. Maybe you misheard?” His eyes crinkled with the force of his smile and it almost made you crack.

“Wow, skipping straight over teasing and into gaslighting territory. I expected better from you, Keeho,” you tossed the ball back into his court, anticipating he would go even further.

“Ok whoa, first of all, I would never gaslight anyone, ever. That’s shit’s awful. Secondly: why do you wanna know the ways I want to tease you?”

Wait. Pause. Hold it.

“First, it was things you wanted to tease me about. Now it’s the ways you want to tease me?” 

Keeho’s ‘oh shit’ expression almost made you laugh.

“Which one do you want to explain first because I’m gonna need clarification.”

“Oh, well, um I guess, uh…” Keeho stuttered. “Fuck, I don’t know how to talk myself back from that, actually.”

You didn’t hold back your laughter then. “Ok fine, pick one and explain that one to me.”

He tapped his chin. “Yeah, I can work with that. Ok: the things I want to tease you about. You ready?”

You nodded, trying to shrug off the thought that you were hoping he’d tell you about the ways instead.

Keeho leaned closer and it suddenly felt like he was very much in your space. It also felt like you very much did not mind that.

He smirked, looking way too good for the proximity he was in.

“Everything.”

That one word alone changed the trajectory of your entire night then, and you knew it.

Keeho knew it, too.

“Well? Is that a satisfactory enough answer for you?” Keeho was still smirking as he leaned back into his seat and away from you, letting you breathe properly once more.

“Um, y-yeah. That’ll do for now, even though it’s vague.” You started off weak but ended it strong, still trying to keep up the banter you two had going so you could hopefully avoid… whatever direction this was heading in.

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “I really never can win with you, can I?”

“Nope, I’m a hard one to please.”

Keeho just stared at you for a second before he nodded in acknowledgment.

“Good to know.”

“Wait, what-”

Keeho interrupted you before you could finish. “So, where am I dropping you off? I’m not sure where you're staying these days, but I could take you to your parents’ place if you want.”

“Please no, anywhere but there.” The chance of running into your brother again tonight - despite it being highly unlikely since he usually crashed at the parties he went to - was not something you wanted to risk in the slightest. Your parents were the reason you were in this mess in the first place, making you find your brother and attempt to bring him back since he wasn’t supposed to be out while ‘grounded.’

And yes, if anyone asked your parents, they’d say it was completely fine to ground a 23 year old for misbehaving. You couldn’t argue with that sometimes, because your brother could really get up to some heinous shit.

Maybe that’s why Keeho hasn’t been around him as much…?

“Say no more, parents’ house is a no-go.” Keeho paused, almost looking shy for a moment. “I can take you to your place then, if you don’t mind me having the address.”

You wouldn’t mind giving Keeho your address, but the thought of going home right now also didn’t seem too appealing.

Apparently you took too long to answer because Keeho started backtracking. “Or we could just stay here in the car, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

Not missing the opportunity to tease him again, you jerked your thumb toward the window and settled for saying “So if I’m most comfortable with walking in the rain-”

Keeho pressed something on his door.

“Keeho… what did you just do?”

“Activated the child locks.”

“Child… child locks? What happened to ‘we aren’t kids anymore,’ hm?” You were trying so hard not to burst out laughing at his attempt to keep the situation in his control.

“Whatever keeps you in this car and not getting ill from the rain is something I’m willing to use.”

You chanced opening the door to see if he truly had pressed the child locks, and you were mildly surprised to see the door opened with ease.

Keeho was quick to grab onto your arm closest to him; not forcefully at all, but enough to stop your movement and have you close the door again.

“Ok so maybe it was the window lock instead, but I’d really rather you just let me drive you somewhere so you don’t have to walk and I know you’re safe.”

Before you could even formulate a thought about how to respond, a roar of thunder followed by a long streak of lightning made you curl into yourself.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok,” Keeho tried to comfort you with a pat on your shoulder. He kept his hand there and the touch was somewhat calming.

”Thank you,” you answered in a small voice before you cleared your throat. “Um, I actually kinda don’t really want to be alone tonight with it storming like this so if it’s ok…”

As you trailed off, Keeho buckled his seatbelt and pressed the brake again to shift the car in drive.

”Buckle up and we’ll head to my place.”

The air in the apartment was chilly, making you shiver even more once you stepped through the door. Cold air mixed with being soaked to the bone was not what you’d call ideal conditions, that was for sure.

“Shit, my roommate probably turned the AC way down before they left. Stay here, I’ll go fix it real quick.”

Keeho placed a hand on your shoulder briefly as he walked past you. It was just the barest of touches, but you found yourself shivering once again.

Must be the AC. That had to be the only explanation.

Keeho was back in front of you just as you heard the AC clicking off. He smiled like he was proud of what he’d done, and you smiled back in thanks.

“I appreciate it,” you rubbed your hands along your arms to try and facilitate warmth - unfortunately to no avail.

“I appreciate you actually listening to reason and coming back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “So where am I gonna be staying tonight?”

Keeho’s hint of a smile dropped slightly. “Oh, uh… I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

The poor boy looked like he needed help coming up with an answer so you decided to give him grace this one time.

“A spare room? A couch? An air mattress, maybe?”

Keeho rubbed the back of his neck as he contemplated the options.

“Our air mattress is busted so that’s out. The only other room in here is my roommate’s and he’s gone for the weekend, but I don’t think you’d like sleeping there very much. He also probably wouldn’t be too fond of the idea…”

You scanned the area until your eyes landed on the couch against the wall in what looked like the living room. “What about there?”

Keeho nodded but was frowning. “That’s a place, yeah. It’s just very uncomfortable and I want guests to enjoy themselves when they’re here.”

You clutched your chest in feigned hurt. “But I thought we were friends? Now I’m just a guest?”

Keeho smiled, catching on. “Nope, you’re definitely at the friend level. So your comfort matters even more to me because of that.”

Well, shit. You talked yourself into that one.

“So I’ll take the couch tonight and you can have my bed, if that’s cool. It’s clean - I promise.”

You didn’t doubt it for a second - you’d never known Keeho to just leave messes lying around - but you didn’t want to kick him out of his own bed.

“Keeho, I can have the couch, I swear it’s fine-”

He shook his head with finality. “I’m not having you sleeping out here all night when you’ve already been through enough as it is. Speaking of,” Keeho trailed off as he scanned your figure. “You're still drenched.”

“Oh,” was your brilliant response.

“If you, uh, want to take a shower or something, you can. I can grab a towel and whatever else you need?”

“Sounds great except I don’t have a change of clothes,” you shuffled your feet a little, noticing how water seeped out and onto the floor. You felt bad for that now as well.

“Oh, right. Well, you can… borrow some of mine? If you’re ok with that?”

The offer made you smile. “Yeah, I think that’ll work.”

Keeho gave you two thumbs up, something you knew he did when he was feeling a little awkward about what had just happened. “Got it, yeah, so I’ll just um… go get everything set up for you. The shower is in my bedroom, but there’s a door so it’s not just open or anything-”

You could see him spiraling in real time, so you reached out to touch his arm to get him to stop. “Hey, look at me for a second?”

Keeho looked at you and you could see how he was breathing a little faster from the rambling he’d just done.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Keeho’s eyebrows unfurrowed and he seemed visibly calmer. “Right. I’ll uh, I’ll be back.”

You waited for Keeho to finish up in the bathroom, choosing to take in your surroundings now that you were by yourself. The apartment looked about like what you’d expect from Keeho, and it got you wondering if his bedroom would be the same-

“Everything’s all set up now,” Keeho returned with a grin. “You can go whenever you want and I’ll just stay out here or something.”

”Sounds great,” you made one move with your foot and immediately winced at all the water that started dripping onto the hardwood floor underneath you.

No way in hell were you tracking this through the carpet. You’d rather go home than do that.

”Um, Keeho?”

”Yeah, what’s up?” His back had been turned to you while he was looking for something in the kitchen area.

”I, uh, I don’t really know how to get to the bathroom.”

”Oh right, duh. It would help if I told you. My bedroom is the first door on the right down that hallway.”

”Um, well what I mean is,” you watched him walk back over to where you were standing. “I don’t want to get water everywhere.”

Keeho looked like a lightbulb just went off in his brain. “Oh shit, yeah, that would be kinda bad. Uh…I could carry you?”

”I mean,” you kept your composure despite the offer making your face heat up, “I’m not opposed necessarily but wouldn’t that still drip water onto the floor?”

“Good point. I mean, the carpet shouldn’t get that messed up…maybe.”

”How about instead,” you braced yourself for the words that were about to come out of your mouth, “I can take my shoes and clothes off out here? Just the outer layer that’s soaked.”

You were looking at the floor, cheeks burning hot and the suggestion that you came up with. Keeho didn’t say anything for a moment, and when you finally glanced at him it looked like he was trying to restart his thinking process.

”Oh um, yeah, sure, if that’s how you want to do this. I’ll just, uh…go get the towel I laid out for you.”

He practically jogged to the bathroom to retrieve the towel, making you giggle at the action.

Within a few seconds he was back, towel held in a firm grasp. “Here, I’ll go uh- I’ll go back in my room and stare at the wall. Like, the other wall. Not the wall connected to the bathroom. Um, anyway, just… come through whenever you’re ready.

Keeho didn’t even give you a chance to respond before he was walking back to his room. He shut the door almost all the way behind him, leaving it cracked the smallest amount.

With Keeho out of the room, you got to work stripping down. Thankfully, your bra and underwear weren’t too terribly wet, so you could put them back on underneath his clothes when you were done with your shower. You left your shoes, socks, and drenched layer of clothing by the door to the apartment, piling as much of it onto the doormat as you could.

Once you had the towel wrapped tightly around you, still over your undergarments, you walked over to Keeho’s door and knocked on the wood twice. Keeho mumbled some sort of affirmation and you went inside.

True to his word, Keeho was facing the complete opposite way of the bedroom door and the bathroom. You didn’t see light from his phone or anything, so he was likely just sitting there staring at the wall, like he said he would. He fidgeted a small bit once he could tell you were in the room, shifting his weight from one side to the other where he was sat on his bed.

You couldn’t help but smile. The way he was going out of his way to make sure you were as comfortable as possible tugged at your heart a little bit, but you tried to ignore it.

This was your baby brother’s best friend. A friend who is even younger than your brother (although not by much). The last thing you needed was to get caught up in something with Keeho that could wreck both your and his relationship with your brother.

More for Keeho’s sake, really, since you were more distant with your brother these days.

Did you think Keeho was cute? Absolutely. Did you guys get along pretty well? You do, and have for a long time.

Was it worth it to see if there could be something more?

That was something you’d wondered a few times before and may never get the answer to.

Before you could self-reflect more on a currently non-existent problem you proceeded to the bathroom to take your shower.

You didn’t look to see what clothes he laid out for you until you were done, noticing as you exited the shower that he left you a large red t-shirt and a pair of dark basketball shorts.

The shirt fit fine since you preferred oversized shirts anyway for sleeping. The shorts, though… they didn’t have a tie or anything so the waistband was a little loose, meaning there wasn’t really a way for you to keep them on comfortably.

Were you really about to step back into Keeho’s bedroom looking like you have nothing but his shirt on? Well, yes.

No time like the present and all that.

You knocked on the bathroom door to signal to Keeho that you were about to come out and once he let you know it was alright, you took a deep breath before you turned the door handle.

As soon as your eyes landed on him, your mouth went dry.

Keeho was sprawled out on the bed, changed into a pair of gray sweatpants with a black tank top. His dark hair, tinted with blue highlights, was still a little damp from the rain, by the looks of it. He had one hand behind his head while the other was in front of him, scrolling away on his phone.

You remembered the day you saw his new blue hair look for the first time - you only went mildly insane.

And now, with all of this combined, he looked…a lot better than you’d anticipated, that was for sure. Of course, the last time you’d seen him in any form even close to this was…well, never, actually. At least not since you two grew up.

When you shut the door back behind you Keeho finally looked up. His eyes met yours and he suddenly dropped his phone. It landed on his chest before sliding down onto the bed, forgotten.

“Oh, uh, hey.” He cleared his throat and tried to avert his eyes. “How was the shower? Find everything ok?”

You giggled as you walked over to the bed. “Yes, thank you. I found all the essentials easily since they were all in one convenient place.”

“Right, I forgot I put them there, ha. Anyways, I’ll just um,” Keeho jerked his thumb towards the door, “go so you can have your privacy.” He phrased it like a question. 

“Do you want to go,” was your response.

“Do you want me to go?”

“Keeho, it’s your place. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” The words tumbled out before you could realize what you’d just implied. 

You could’ve sworn you heard Keeho mumble ‘fuck’ under his breath before he gave you an answer.

“What I want is for you to be comfortable. And since it’s still storming, you’ll probably feel better in here because it’s louder out there with the couch being by a window.”

Shit, you’d forgotten about the storm momentarily. “Makes sense,” you responded, looking out of the doorway of Keeho’s bedroom.

Keeho sat up straighter to push himself off of the bed. You definitely weren’t watching the way his arm muscles flexed with the movement. “I made some tea while you were showering; if you want some, it’s in the kitchen. I left out a cup for you but please don’t feel obligated.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at how nice he was being. This is what you’d been missing out on for a few years because you counted him as ‘off-limits’ before?

“Thanks, Kee. I might grab some before I finally fall asleep.”

Keeho smiled brightly. “Been a long time since you’ve called me that. I’ve missed it.”

You tried to remember the last time you’d referred to him like that and figured it had to be since before he left for college. So, yeah, it had been a while.

“Well, I’ll be out there if you need anything,” Keeho continued, walking over to where you stood. At the same moment, a roaring crack of thunder sounded overhead, making you jump and start to fall over.

Keeho being Keeho, of course, was there to catch you instantly. He wrapped his arms around you and embraced you in a hug. You were shivering and he could tell, so he held you tighter.

You decided to say fuck it and just go for it.

“Kee?”

“Hm,” he hummed in response. You could feel the vibration of the hum throughout his chest since that’s currently where your face was.

“Would it be alright if you…stayed with me? At least until the storm subsides?”

You felt Keeho stiffen somewhat before he relaxed again.

“Yeah, whatever you need. I can like, grab a chair or something and set it in here-”

“Don’t be silly,” you pulled back so you could smile at him. “Your bed is big enough for the two of us, don’t you think?”

Keeho looked taken aback. “You sure that’s ok?”

“Wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.”

“Cool, yeah, cool. Ok so let’s just- yeah.” Keeho led the both of you back to the bed. “Take whatever side you want.”

You laid down in the middle of the bed and stretched out just to be difficult. “What about here?”

Keeho finally cracked a smile, and you were thankful to see it. There was a sort of tension that had settled in the air since you first asked him to stay, and you were trying to dissolve it as soon as possible.

“Don’t think you’ll want half of me on top of you later so that might not be the best place.” Keeho gently nudged your leg so he could get onto the bed. You rolled over to give him more room, laying on your stomach now with your eyes closed while you sighed deeply. 

When you finally opened them again, Keeho was looking at you - well, rather, he was looking at a part of you. Up until that point, you’d been completely unaware that moving made his shirt ride up your thighs.

“Oh shit,” you quickly moved to pull his shirt down in the back. “Sorry, the shorts didn’t fit so I just figured I’d go without.”

“Huh?” Keeho looked up at your face, almost like he was dazed.

You laughed. “Eyes up here, Kee. And what I was saying is your shorts were too big so I left them off. Hope you don’t mind?”

“You have no idea how much I don’t mind,” he smirked at you and suddenly, the tables didn’t seem to be turned in your favor anymore.

You quickly turned your head the other way so he couldn’t see the way your cheeks started to flush. “Right, well, glad we cleared that up! Goodnight then.”

Keeho laughed, the sound quiet but still comforting. He grabbed a blanket that was at the edge of the bed and draped it over you. “Night.”

You felt Keeho shift on his side, thinking he probably turned the opposite way as well. There was a lamp on his nightstand that he hadn’t turned off yet, and it was the only thing still really providing illumination in the room.

It wasn’t even 5 minutes later before you felt Keeho shift again and softly call your name.

“Yeah,” you responded as you turned to face him. He looked…nervous.

“This is a safe space, right?”

You chuckled. “I don’t know, it’s your room so you tell me.”

Keeho groaned. “I didn’t mean it as in the physical space - although it is safe in here, don’t get me wrong-”

 “Kee, focus.” You interrupted his spiral again, not wanting him to overthink and back down from whatever he was trying to say.

He took a deep breath. “Right, ok. Can I say something blunt?”

Your heartbeat quickened, not sure where this was headed. “Yes?”

Keeho moved closer with a smile, tugging slightly on the end of one of your sleeves - one of his sleeves.

“I gotta say,” he trailed his eyes up your figure, starting from where you caught him looking earlier. “You look really fucking good in my clothes.”

You stopped breathing for a second. This is the closest Keeho had ever really come to flirting with you. The most he’d done in recent years since you both became adults is tease you relentlessly, but you always shrugged it off as he just liked to get on your nerves (endearingly).

You regained your composure, trying to look unaffected when you answered him.

“Do you say that to all the girls you manage to get into your bed?”

Keeho wasn’t phased. “If I’m being honest-”

“Because it won’t work on me. I’m different.” You almost cringed at hearing yourself say those words even though you meant them in a completely other context than you hear most people use it in.

Keeho stared at you more intently this time. “What I was going to say,” he felt the fabric of the sleeve again between his fingertips, “is no, I don’t just say that to ‘girls I get in my bed.’”

“But you’re right about one thing, “ he continued, face lit up beautifully by the warm glow of the lamp beside him, “you are different. And that’s why I’ll say it to you.”

You’d started leaning closer to him as well without realizing it, his touch through the shirt driving you crazy. “Keeho, where are you going with this?”

He smiled, full of reassurance. “Wherever you want.”

You ached to cross that line, to break that boundary. But something was still keeping you back.

“What if what I want isn’t right,” your voice came out small.

Keeho’s smile faded. “What do you mean by not right?”

You sighed. “I’m older than you, for starters. And I know you don’t typically go for people older than you.” 

Keeho tilted his head at your admission. You figured he never knew you still kept up with him outside of the times you actually saw each other in person, and he didn’t know that your brother let that particular bit of information slip once in conversation.

“Keeho would never want to date you - he probably sees you as a hag. He wants someone younger, so don’t even try.” The words from your brother still stung today, and what’s worse is they were completely unwarranted. All you’d done is ask how Keeho was liking college, and your brother just blurted out that in response.

“Also, and more importantly, you’re my brother’s best friend. That’s like…some kind of betrayal or something.”

“What is, what betrayal are you talking about?” Keeho looked like he was really trying to understand, which made this conversation much more difficult.

You steadied yourself before you finally gave him your answer. “The way I want you.”

Keeho closed his eyes like he was trying to gather his thoughts. His hand dropped from your shirt. “Unbelievable.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I was hoping that one day, you’d stop seeing me as a kid or just an extension of your brother. I wanted you to see me for me, because I’ve only ever seen you that way.” His eyes were open again, and they looked full of purpose.

“Keeho, what-”

“My point is, whatever you think about me because of my age and me being friends with your brother: don’t.” This was the most serious you’d ever seen him. The usual teasing, easy-going Keeho was nowhere to be found right now.

He reached out to rest his hand against your cheek. You leaned into the touch, welcoming the warmth that he radiated.

“I want you. And I’m not afraid to say that. There’s something there, I know there is,” Keeho kept going. “And I’ve known that for a while, at least on my end.”

“How long have you known,” you asked him with curiosity, but the way his hand moved from your cheek to the side of your neck really wasn’t helping you’re trying to stay calm during all of this.

Keeho hummed in thought. “Probably since right before I went to college.”

You gasped. “So when you were…”

“17. And you were 20. I knew that back then obviously there was no way - but I’d always hoped that one day maybe there’d be a chance.”

This information hit you like a tidal wave and threatened to pull you under. Keeho had been crushing on you for at least 5 years, and you had no idea to what extent until now.

All those times you thought he was just being ‘flirty’ he may have been actually flirting. You always shrugged it off before because why wouldn’t you?

He called your name again to pull you out of your thoughts.

“Need you to talk to me. I can’t read your mind,” his eyes had softened while he was talking to you. “Which is probably a good thing because I don’t know if your brain ever shuts the fuck off.”

You scoffed and shoved him playfully, his hand never leaving the side of your neck while he tried to dodge you.

“I…don’t really know what to say right now. I had no idea you felt that way- or at least that you felt that strongly.”

“I know,” Keeho answered dramatically. “I can’t tell you how frustrating that’s been over this last year especially. None of my pick-up lines worked on you and it had me like ‘damn, is my game really that bad?’”

You started laughing. “Oh my god, no, it’s not that. I just always thought you were teasing me.”

“I was! In a flirtatious manner!”

“I see that now,” you countered. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

Keeho rolled his eyes. “Look, the past is the past, what matters is right now. And right now,” he continued, rubbing his thumb along your neck while the rest of his hand stayed in place, “I need to know what you want.”

A spark of desire settled in your core. You wanted Keeho. But you were still worried.

“If you decide you don’t feel the same,” Keeho went on before you could respond, “I can turn over and we can forget this ever happened. Well- you can forget this ever happened. I don’t think I’ll be that lucky.” His sweet smile then almost broke your heart.

Your words were failing you, so you did the only thing you could think of: you moved closer. You were directly in each other’s space now, and the movement made Keeho’s breath hitch.

“Do you want this,” Keeho said, just above a whisper. “Do you want me?”

You nodded before you could give it too much thought. The grin that lit up Keeho’s face made everything worth it.

“Then, can I kiss you?” He was still talking quietly, his lips close enough that the barest of movements would have closed the distance.

You moved to nod again but Keeho shook his head. “Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“Please,” you answered, ready to cross that point of no return.

He smiled and leaned in. There was no turning back.

Keeho kissed gentler than you were expecting. The way he always threw himself into everything he did is also how you thought he would start off with this, but he was set on taking his time. His lips moved against yours slowly, almost like he was trying to commit how you felt to memory. As if he may not get another chance like this and wanted to make the most of it.

Kissing Keeho felt good. It felt great, even. But most of all, kissing Keeho felt right.

You tried to wrap your arms around his neck but had some trouble due to the angle. He took the hint to resituate the two of you, all while his lips never left yours. The new position had Keeho hovering on top of you, resting one forearm on the bed while the other hand still made itself at home on your neck. When you threaded your hand through his hair, you could sense the shift.

He kissed you with more urgency now, his hand starting to wander down lower. When you felt his fingers softly brush against your thigh, you couldn’t control the noise you let out.

Keeho groaned in response. “Fuck, you sound so pretty. Always figured you would.”

He started trailing more kisses down your neck as you let out a laugh. “So you’ve pictured this before?”

Keeho looked at you with a face that could only be saying ‘Are you kidding me?’ You responded with an eyebrow raise, wanting him to answer you with words.

“Of course I have.”

Oh. Well that was a bit more honesty than you were expecting right out the gate.

“I’ve pictured this, dreamt about this…,” he trailed off to drag his lips up closer to your ear, voice lower as he continued, “gotten off thinking about this."

You gasped, feeling Keeho smile against your neck at his ability to pull another reaction out of you.

“I’d ask you the same question, but I think I already know the answer.” His tone sounded teasing, but you could tell he really was curious. You felt it was only fair to give him what he wanted.

“I…may have thought about this a time or two.”

The speed with which Keeho lifted his head almost had you reeling. His eyes were wide as he simply asked, “Really? You’re not fucking with me, are you?”

“Cross my heart.” You did the motion with your hand, drawing an imaginary ‘X’ over your chest. This was something that meant a lot to both of you growing up, and it definitely wasn’t something either of you said lightly.

At your admission Keeho dove in to kiss you again, lips moving almost hungrily, his hand now gripping your thigh.

His fingers moved subtly but still didn’t inch higher yet, despite how much you wanted them to. It dawned on you then that Keeho may be hesitating.

“Kee?” You pulled back from him and placed a hand on his cheek, watching as he evened out his breathing from the attack he’d just launched on your mouth.

“Is something wrong,” you continued, since you wanted him to feel comfortable if either of you were going to do anything even remotely past this point.

Keeho shook his head but his eyes said otherwise. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he beat you to it.

“It’s not that something’s wrong. Things couldn’t be more right than they are now, in my opinion.“ His last sentence was almost mumbled out, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

“I just… need to know. Before this goes on.” His tone was serious, eyes set again with determination. “What does this mean to you?”

The question took you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You know how I feel, what this,” he gestured between the two of you in the little space that was still left, “means to me. I need to know if it’s the same for you.”

You weren’t sure how much of you ‘knowing how he felt’ was true, because you’d just learned recently that he had a crush on you. Initially, you thought that maybe this was just about sex and not much more than that, crush be damned. Keeho just seemed like that might be what he preferred - no attachment, no feelings.

For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know if he was dating anyone. Hell, he hadn’t even asked you if you were dating someone.

You both had just kinda jumped into this because the moment felt right, but you were having second thoughts now.

“Wait,” you tried to lean back and put more distance between the two of you. Keeho looked hurt for a moment but masked it quickly - something you knew him to (unfortunately) be good at. His hand left your thigh and he waited for you to go on.

“Are you involved with anyone?”

“Involved?” Now Keeho was confused instead. “Involved like- oh. No, I’m not. The fuck?”

You almost raised your hands up in defense but thought it better that you didn’t. “Just making sure! I wasn’t sure what your relationship status was these days.” You crossed your arms and looked to the side.

Keeho called your name to pull your attention back to him.

“Do you actually think I would have driven beside you on the sidewalk during a thunderstorm, let you stay in my apartment, and initiate any of this if I was dating someone?”

He had a good point. Even still, it’s always good to check.

“Before you answer, it’s a trick question because yes, I would do those first things without hesitation because I care about you. What I wouldn’t do,” Keeho moved closer, once again limiting the distance that kept you apart, “is this.”

He tilted your chin upwards and his lips brushed against yours softly. It was just once, but once was enough to convey what he was trying to say.

“And I didn’t think to ask you the same because I knew as soon as I was blunt with you I‘d find out. There’s no way you’d be down to mess around with me while you’re not single.”

Another good point from Keeho. He really was throwing you for a loop tonight.

You swallowed audibly, his stare making you feel squirmy. “Right, ok, um- glad that’s settled then.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

You knew he was right, you couldn’t keep avoiding it. But what did this mean to you? The only thing you could think of at the moment was what finally ended up leaving your mouth.

“I don’t think it means the same to me as it does to you.” It was like you could physically feel Keeho deflating in front of you. “But… that doesn’t mean it can’t with time.”

Why were you telling him that - what purpose did it serve other than to give him hope?

Before you could think about it too much, you watched as Keeho smiled so wide that it looked like it almost hurt. One day you might feel bad for the emotional whiplash you were putting this boy through, but today was not that day.

“I can work with that.” The words barely left Keeho’s mouth before he was again on top of you, now holding himself up with his forearms on either side of you. He was caging you in now, the only sound between you two being both your slightly accelerated breathing.

Keeho didn’t waste anymore time, moving in to kiss you with what seemed like all the feeling he could muster. His tongue slipped past the seam of your lips and you granted him access easily, just as eager to taste him as he was you.

Your hands flew up, one landing on the side of his neck while the other cradled his face. Keeho let out a small mmph against your lips at the movement, the sound sweet to your ears. It had you wishing to hear more, to hear every kind of sound Keeho could make with his pretty mouth.

Your lips still moved in sync with each other as you felt one of Keeho’s hands traveling down. It flitted across your ribcage on its way to its destination, making you move ever so slightly underneath him.

Finally, Keeho reached what he was looking for, still kissing you the entire time he’d been searching with his hand. He had a fistful of the shirt now in his grasp, pulling it up some at the bottom.

“You wearing anything under here?” Keeho sounded out of breath as he playfully skimmed his fingers along the hem of your - his - shirt. “Or was your intention to drive me crazy guessing the whole time?”

“Seems like a good idea to find out, hm?” Giving back what Keeho was dishing out; this you could do. As long as that was where you drew the line and you didn’t get too involved or too attached, you could do this and not overthink it.

His hand started to travel underneath the shirt, the touch light but purposeful, and within moments he had one of your thighs shaking at the sensation. You wanted to cover your face once you saw Keeho’s smirk but in your current position that proved impossible. So instead, you turned your head as far to the side as you could, making him laugh at your stubbornness.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be that way. I love seeing the effect I have on you.” He placed kisses on your neck before continuing, going all the way up to your ear. “And besides,” he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth, “there’s no way you can’t already feel what you’re doing to me.”

You shuddered as Keeho ground himself against you so you could feel how hard he was. The movement also caused him to groan right beside your ear, clearly taking him by surprise.

“Fuck, ok I didn’t think that through at all but you get my point. Guess I just can’t think straight when you’re under me like this.”

If this man didn’t stop talking to you like this-

You needed to shift this more in your favor.

“What about if I’m on top of you instead?” You asked him so sweetly and the way his eyes briefly closed didn’t go unnoticed by you.

The way Keeho scrambled to lie flat next to you on the bed had you laughing. He didn’t give you long to collect yourself though before he was tugging on your arm to pull you up on him. You situated yourself to where you were straddling Keeho, his hands immediately falling to your waist as if he was afraid to let you go.

The large tent in his sweatpants was hard to miss. You wanted to tease him more since you were the one with the upper hand now, so you very lightly brushed against him. Keeho’s hands gripped you harder, and you weren’t sure if it was involuntary or more of a warning.

“Is this ok?” You had to check before going further; despite all the moves he’d been making on you that you’d been reciprocating, neither of you had actually mentioned moving past this point yet.

“Is this ok,” he echoed your question. “You’re asking me if this,” he squeezed your waist for emphasis, “is ok?”

You simply nodded, skin starting to feel hot from his touch even if it was still just through the shirt.

Keeho chuckled. “What kind of fucking question- of course it’s ok! If you’re good, I’m good. So,” he moved your hips for you, making you brush against him again, “shit, what’s it gonna be?”

You took his hands that were still wrapped around you and placed them under the shirt you were wearing, right above your hips. Before he could even register what happened you leaned forward, feeling him harden even more underneath you.

“Whatever you want,” was your response as you captured his mouth in a heated kiss. Keeho’s hands traveled up and splayed across your back, pulling you in as close as you could get. You rubbed against him from your current position - still straddling but bent over on top of him - and you felt as his fingers started curling against your back. It was almost like he wanted to scratch down your back but was thinking better of it.

The little noises he let out against your mouth were driving you insane. At some point all of your movement had shifted you downward somewhat, and soon enough you felt him right against your core. The sensation was a lot stronger than you were expecting since you both were still clothed, and you couldn’t help the blatant moan that escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” Keeho pulled away from kissing you so you both could catch your breath. “Need that, more of that please.”

“What - this?” You were still moving your hips so you made sure that the next sound you let out was right by his ear, completely uninhibited. Keeho jerked underneath you, making him rub right against your clit through the thin layers of clothing that separated you.

Keeho tugged on the bottom hem of the shirt. “Can I?”

You sat up so he had better access to remove your shirt, leaving you in only your bra and panties once he tossed it aside. The way his eyes widened dramatically caused a funny feeling to flutter through your chest. He looked you up and down, hands on your legs moving mindlessly as he did.

“Wow,” Keeho sounded stunned. You tried not to let it go to your head, even though your face was heating up. “So much better than in my dreams.”

That made you laugh. “Glad to know I exceed expectations.”

“I knew you would. You’ve always been the type to blow everyone away.” Keeho’s smile and praise were making your chest feel odd again, like your heart was trying to do flips.

“Can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he pulled you closer and placed a kiss right above your collarbone. “Feel you like this,” his hands were on your back again, this time sliding up to where your bra could be unlatched.

A quick raise of his eyebrow was enough for you to know what he was asking. You nodded and he went to work, having a little trouble with the hooks at first, making you giggle at his focused face.

“Let me,” you offered as you reached behind yourself and undid the hooks in one seamless motion.

“What the fuck, how did you do that,” Keeho just kept staring at you baffled as you slid the bra straps down your arms. “No, seriously, how is that possible?”

You shrugged as you were holding the bra up by its cups now, not ready to reveal to him just yet. “Years of practice. It’s really not that impressive.” Before Keeho could protest, you asked another question since your curiosity was now piqued. “Wait, have you- have you never seen someone do that before?”

Keeho looked like he was actually thinking back on it. “Well…not that I can remember. But I also haven’t ever paid that much attention before.”

“Your usual hook-ups aren’t like this?” Kind of a weird question for you to ask the man you were currently trying to hook up with, but what’s the harm in asking, right?

“My usual hook-ups aren’t you.”

Oh.

That’s-

“Oh,” was your brilliant response. Keeho just smiled.

“Are you done asking me about my previous sex life now, or is there more you want to know? Curious about my stroke game, maybe?”

“Why are you like this,” you groaned, making him laugh. One of his hands rested soothingly against your thigh as he waited for your next move.

“Dunno - but you love that I’m like this anyway, so clearly it’s working.”

Since you couldn’t really argue with that, it was time to continue your mission you’d started before embarking on this small side quest.

“I’m not about to be the only one topless here.” You had removed one of your hands to grab at his tank top but the other one was still holding your bra in place. “Gonna help me change that?”

With no hesitation, Keeho did the stupidly attractive thing that guys do when they pull their shirts off by reaching behind them. You were met with the sight of Keeho and his bare chest within a moment, and honestly you weren’t sure what amount of time you would’ve needed to prepare for it.

Keeho was fucking hot. Full stop. You’d be crazy to deny it, no matter how much you didn’t want to inflate his ego.

You must’ve been ogling at him because soon enough he hit you with a “Like what you see?”

That smirk of his was lethal if you looked too long, so you rolled your eyes instead and placed your hand on one of his pecs. As you started to drag your hand down, you noticed how the speed of his breathing increased.

“Sensitive much?” You lightly brushed against one of his nipples, his movement then answering your question.

“Y-yeah, maybe a little bit,” Keeho was trying not to crack. “Also how is this fair now?”

You knew he was referring to your bra, so you let it drop. Once your chest was free, Keeho wasted no time in cupping one of your breasts.

“Pretty,” he mumbled as he squeezed one, cocky smirk plastered on his face as he continued. “What was it you said earlier - that you’re a ‘hard one to please’? Why don’t we test that theory?”

He gently closed his mouth around one of your nipples, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. He flicked his tongue against it, making you almost cry out at the feeling. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging ever so slightly like you were trying to keep yourself grounded.

Keeho lapped his tongue around you a few more times and you started squirming in his lap. The way you were rubbing right up against him fueled you to try harder, each move pulling you closer to the point of no return. Your panties were soaked and clinging to you, meaning you could really feel him almost as much as you would if your last bit of clothing were gone.

“Kee- Keeho,” you moaned his name when you felt one of his hands brush against your inner thigh. The resulting grunt he let out had you moving faster in his lap, eager to coax more sounds out of him.

He pulled off of you then with a small pop, lips still wet with spit as he stared at you.

“Fuck, I was not ready for that, holy shit.” Keeho ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face before it fell back into place. The black and blue strands were even more captivating up this close, with the warm light from the lamp washing over the both of you. “Never knew my name could sound so good coming from someone else.”

“You wanna see if you can make it happen again,” you taunted him as you placed both hands on his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss. You felt his smile against your lips, enjoying the peaceful moment before a spark of pleasure shot through you.

Keeho was grabbing a bit rougher at your breast now than he had before, brushing your nipple with his thumb while you kissed. “Don’t worry,” he added as his unoccupied hand started moving closer to where you wanted him most. “I have no doubt I can make you say my name again.”

He stopped at the edge of your underwear, silently asking you again with his eyes if he could continue. You gave him another nod, probably a bit too eager if his chuckle was anything to go by.

Instead of going up under the clothing like you expected he might, he stroked against the outside first, placing pressure amongst one of the wetter spots.

“Shit, can already tell that you’re soaked. Maybe I do have some game after all,” Keeho was egging you on as he placed more pressure and moved his fingers in a circular motion. Unfortunately for you, it was right on your clit, so the stimulation was overwhelming.

“I swear to god if you don’t stop talking about your game-” you cut yourself off with a moan.

“What was that,” Keeho’s tone was so hot, you couldn’t even be bothered about him teasing you this way. “I couldn’t hear you over how much game I have.”

“Keeho,” you whined out his name, starting to grow impatient. You almost thought you could feel him twitch underneath you, but that would’ve been hard to tell since he was still wearing sweatpants.

“There she is,” he said it like he was praising you for doing a good job on something. “My name sounds so pretty when it’s coming from you.” He trailed kisses down your neck, stopping once he got to your breast again. A devious smile before he gave your nipple another small flick with his tongue.

“Can’t wait to hear you scream it later,” was the only warning you got before Keeho started making you see stars.

He pushed your panties to the side and shoved two fingers into you from the jump, the slide easy because of how absolutely fucking drenched you were. His other arm closed around you, pulling you closer which in turn pushed his fingers further inside. That combined with the way he was ravishing your breast - sometimes even biting your nipple gently - had you approaching your high much faster than you’d like to admit.

How was this man making you fall apart with just two fingers and his tongue? You hadn’t even seen his dick yet and here you were, shaking and moaning in his lap like you had absolutely no control over it.

The power of Keeho, you guessed.

The way he curled his fingers inside of you had you trembling, sounds kept tumbling out of you and mingled with the ones you could barely hear coming from him.

“Kee- Kee, wait.” You hated to stop him but you refused to cum like this. You needed something more - even if you weren’t sure what it was that you needed.

Keeho stopped moving his fingers but kept them inside of you, making you clench around them. He pulled his mouth off of you and answered with a “Hm?”

“Don’t wanna cum so soon,” you were slightly breathless. The way his face lit up at your words made that feeling in your chest constrict again.

“Wha- already? Wow, I’m doing way better than I thought I would at this point.”

That got your attention. “How did you think you were going to do?”

Keeho opened his mouth, shut it, then paused before he opened it again. “I don’t know, I never thought I’d get this far.”

He didn’t give you long to ponder over the familiar quote before he slowly started pumping his fingers in and out again, this time adding a third one to the mix. You’d thankfully calmed down some but he’d have you at the brink again in no time if you didn’t stop him.

“Keeho-”

“I’m right here, baby. Need to know what you want me to do,” a rough kiss before he continued, “how you want me to make you cum.”

You were about to put a muzzle on this man if he didn’t stop saying things that made your heart beat at an irrationally fast pace.

“I don’t know, just- not like this. You pick,” you handed the control back over to Keeho before realizing what you’d just done.

“You sure you want that?”

You nodded, eyes shut as you clenched around his fingers again. He slowly pulled them all the way out, leaving you immediately missing the feeling of having him - well, a part of him - inside of you.

“I just want you,” your eyes opened again as you answered him with conviction. “You choose, Kee.”

Keeho gulped. For the first time that night, it looked like he was at a loss for words. Instead of offering you an answer, he chose to put his fingers in his mouth. Keeho closed his eyes as he tasted you, the sight mesmerizing as he appeared to get lost in it.

“Fuck, you taste so good. God,” he lowered his voice as his eyes travelled down to where you were now uncovered, “it would fucking drive me crazy if I had it all the time, I’m calling it now.”

The idea flashed through your mind for barely a second before you were shoving it down into the deepest crevices of your brain.

Did Keeho want to do this again? Furthermore, did he want to keep doing it? Was this really the good idea you thought it was before all of this started kicking off?

Keeho’s voice pulled you out of your nearly-started spiral.

“Hey, you good there?” He was waving one hand in front of your face. “Was it what I said?”

“No, I’m good. Just wasn’t expecting that.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you weren’t sure if he believed it or not.

“Sorry, I get kinda stupid with the shit I say when I’m pussy drunk. But also - I meant every word.”

This man was going to be the death of you somehow.

You tried to change the subject. “Aren’t these pants uncomfortable?” You palmed at the bulge that was straining against the fabric, resulting in an immediate reaction from Keeho.

“Fuck, ha, I mean they’re not the most comfortable, if you wanna take ‘em off we can-”

You shimmied back some so you were more-so straddling his thighs instead of his lap. With one more nod from Keeho you started to pull his sweatpants down by tugging on the waistband. You thought you had at least another layer of clothing between you and his dick after that but surprise, surprise.

Keeho was going commando. The small gasp you let out made Keeho cover his face with his hands for a second as he groaned into them.

“Care to explain?”

“Ok look, I thought I was sleeping on my own so I decided fuck it, why not. And then when you asked me to stay with you, I never thought this of all things would happen so it’s not like- I definitely didn’t plan this if that’s what you’re asking-”

You wrapped a hand around him to get him to stop and he shut up instantly. The power of that move might’ve gone to your head a little bit.

It dawned on you then just how big Keeho was. Like - he was packing. Talk about exceeding expectations. You could fit your whole hand around him, but you felt the fullness when you started stroking him.

“Fuck, uh, ok uh, do you want to do this or-” Keeho’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I was trying to make you cum so like, don’t worry about me, ha.”

“Well I’m not going to be the only one cumming, I can assure you of that.” You picked up your pace a little bit, relishing in the moan Keeho let out.

“Fuck, fuck, ok. Ah-”

With every sound that escaped Keeho’s lips, you could feel yourself aching to be full again. For now, though: this was way more entertaining.

“You’re so sensitive,” you said it more to yourself than anything else, but Keeho still heard and scoffed as if to say ‘No shit.’

“Yeah, the girl I’ve had a crush on for who knows how long now has her hand wrapped around my dick, nothing to be sensitive about at all.”

Ouch. Your chest was doing the flippy thing again. You didn’t get a chance to respond before Keeho’s hand was wrapping around yours, making you stop your movement.

“Kee?”

“Can we, um- listen, you can totally say no, but I wanted to… try something.” Keeho was throbbing in your hand as he spoke, and you thought then that there probably wasn’t anything he’d suggest that you wouldn’t be down to at least consider.

“Depends on what it is, but probably yes.”

Keeho blinked in surprise. “Oh, shit. Well, wasn’t expecting that before I’ve even told you, but- ok, here goes. Can you move up a little for me?”

You did as he asked, now back in your original spot on his lap, his dick basically trapped under where you sat. He placed both hands on your hips and tried to move you forward some more. Confused, you went along with it until you were almost sitting on his chest.

“Keeho, what-”

He laughed, squeezing now at your thighs instead of your hips with how far he’d managed to push you up. “Was wondering how long it’d take before you figured it out.”

You had indeed not yet figured it out. “Okay…?”

Keeho smiled. “God, you’re adorable.”

His next response was not quite what you were expecting (although it definitely made sense in hindsight).

“Wanna sit on my face?”

“O-Oh,” was all you could think to say at the moment. “I mean… yes?”

“Sounds a little too much like a question rather than a confirmation for me. Need to know what you want, baby.”

There he was with the pet name again. His voice was comforting, though, and it gave you the courage to finally answer for real. “I want to try.”

Keeho grinned and you were so fond of this man. “Come on up here, then,” he patted the top of his chest, letting you know exactly where he wanted you to sit.

Face-sitting wasn’t something you’d ever really been super excited about. One, because you’d never really had an enthusiastic partner for that kind of activity before and two, the idea made you nervous. Do you sit down completely? Are you supposed to hover? What the fuck do you actually do-

“I can hear you overthinking from down here,” Keeho so helpfully supplied. “Once you’re up here, I’ll handle the rest.”

You trusted him. This was Keeho; he had no reason to lead you astray on this. Especially since it looked like he was vibrating enough with excitement from you even entertaining the idea in the first place.

You managed to get your soaked panties off without much trouble before you scooted closer to where he had indicated, hovering over him at first. Keeho gently lowered you down, wrapping his arms around the outside of your thighs once you were seated. His fingers were just barely able to touch your inner thighs from this angle, and you knew he would probably use that to his advantage if he could manage it.

“Hey, relax. Can feel how tense you are.” Keeho placed a kiss on the inside of your thigh that he could reach, the action making you shiver in his hold. “I do need you to come up a little more, though.”

“Are you sure?” The nervous tinge to your voice couldn’t be helped.

“Yes, baby. How else am I gonna get to taste you properly if I can’t get my mouth on you?”

You took a deep breath before moving again. Your thighs were caging in Keeho’s head now, and the gaze he held was absolutely predatory. This man looked like he wanted to devour you and you just might fucking let him.

If this was the only night that you could have with Keeho this way, you’d better make it count.

“Let me know if you wanna stop at any time.” Keeho gave you one last sweet smile before his tongue slipped past your folds.

Now, you weren’t expecting to be disappointed by any means - Keeho was clearly skilled if he’d suggest something like this. You anticipated it would feel good and maybe change your opinion on the whole act itself.

What you didn’t expect was for Keeho to have you shaking on top of him in less than a minute. Every single reaction your body was having, he knew just how to counter it.

Didn’t know what to do with your hands? Keeho placed them in his hair, even tugging a little for you so you knew he didn’t mind. Didn’t want your hips to move too much and cause you to shift too far up? Keeho had you, making sure you stayed in place where you could still grind against him without moving too far. The way he ravaged you had you falling apart in the best way possible, and his commentary didn’t do much to help that either.

“Taste so fucking good,” Keeho spoke in between licks, making sure to not to deprive you of him for too long. “My dreams were never as good as this, shit.”

“You’ve - fuck - dreamt about this?” Your hands were twisted in his hair, each tug pulling a soft moan from him underneath you, and you could feel the sound against your core.

“I’ve had dreams of you doing so many things that it’s actually a little embarrassing,” his words were slightly muffled but you got the gist. “So: I’m pleading the fifth on that one.”

Your laughter that started quickly formed into a sharp gasp. Keeho’s tongue was now inside of you. You could feel him tracing it along your walls where he could reach, not even daring to look down and see how close to you this had made him. It felt like he was leaving handprints on your thighs now from how hard he was gripping you.

You chanced looking down to see if your suspicion was correct and nearly came on the spot. Keeho’s fingers were holding onto you so fiercely that marks had already started forming.

Looking at his face proved to be even more lethal: Keeho looked like he wanted to consume you, to eat you whole. His siren eyes burned into yours, holding your stare while he left you craving more. You saw as he made a show of showing you his tongue before he started focusing on your clit.

“Keeho, fuck, Kee-” you were full on grinding against him now, his tongue flicking your clit at a faster pace after your reaction. One of your hands left his hair to be placed on the wall in front of you; you didn’t trust your legs not to give out any second now, so you needed all the stability you could get.

“That’s it, baby,” Keeho’s breath sounded labored as he spoke. “Keep going. Use me, make yourself feel good.”

Holy shit, the mouth on this man - both verbally and physically. You couldn’t tell which one was able to fuck you up more when he was using both tactics at the same time.

Everything continued the same way for a bit with Keeho alternating between his tongue tricks. At one point, though, he took you by surprise by biting down on the inside of your thigh.

“Fuck!” Your eyes had been closed at that point so you quickly looked down to see what the hell had gotten into him. The bite didn’t hurt really, but it definitely caught you off guard.

He was smiling, lips and chin absolutely covered. “Wanted to see you,” was his simple response. “You haven’t looked at me in a while, need to know I’m still doing good.”

“Fuck, so good, feels so fucking good, Kee,” you wanted to reassure him, but the absolutely heavenly moan he let out in response gave you a power trip like no other. You were still looking down at him, biting your bottom lip now to try and stifle your own sounds so you could hear more from him.

Apparently you didn’t have to wait long, because soon enough Keeho started getting louder. You could feel each one of noises against you as he tried to continue licking your clit. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyelids kept fluttering shut before he attempted to train his eyes on you again. It looked like he was losing a little bit of his rhythm - it still felt fucking otherworldly (no, you were not down bad, not at all) but there was definitely a slight hitch in his motions.

Then you were able to pinpoint the reason why. One of Keeho’s hands was missing from its rightful place on your thigh, and you could feel movement from behind you that you hadn’t noticed before. You turned your head as much as possible to see that Keeho was jerking himself off at the same time as he was eating you out. Your hand that was still twisted in his hair gripped harder, making him groan and start to stroke himself faster.

“Oh fuck.” Something about that entire scene was enough to almost throw you over the edge. You were shaking so much now that you were a little shocked Keeho hadn’t asked you to hop off his face yet. If anything, you spurred him on to press himself closer to you, adding more force with his tongue and a pressure to your clit that hadn’t been there before.

The new pressure, his noises rising in pitch, and his continued staring at you like he wanted to wreck you was what finally got you there, too fast for you to even try and give him a warning. All you could do was moan out his name, relishing in the way his eyes rolled back at the sound.

He kept up his ministrations throughout your orgasm, only stopping when you whined from the sensitivity. You tried to move away from his face but his hand that was still holding onto you grabbed your leg harder.

“Please, fuck, don’t-” Keeho gasped, still stroking himself. “Don’t move yet. Just- stay here.”

“But you haven’t-”

“I know, ah, it won’t take long now though. Especially seeing you,” he broke off to moan and kick his head back, “like this.”

You thought about it and almost gave in to what he wanted, but you wanted to do more than just sit there and let him continue to do the majority of the work.

“Kee?”

“Shit- yeah?” His fingers were digging in the flesh of your thigh, the feeling still somewhat managing to arouse you after you were still coming down from before.

“Let me help. Please?”

“God, not the begging- you are helping, way more than you think. You don’t need to do anything else, baby.” Keeho smiled from underneath you.

“But what if I want to do something else,” you tried using your most seductive tone, hoping it wasn’t too much. Keeho didn’t seem put off by it in the slightest, so you kept going.

“Ha, well, I’d probably let you do whatever you wanted to be honest.”

You filed that info away for later - if there ever was a later.

“What if I wanted to suck you off instead?”

Keeho stared at you like you’d grown another head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that right- you wanna do what?”

You giggled. “Gonna let me make you feel good, Kee?” You accentuated your words by sticking your tongue out at the end. His eyes widened when he finally seemed to get it.

“Oh what the fuck- yeah, no, that’s uh, sounds great actually.” Keeho was panting in between every few words, clearly close but still holding on. Which was great for you, because if you didn’t get this man’s dick in your mouth soon, you were probably going to scream.

Keeho helped you lift yourself off of him, being careful to not fall as you moved down the bed since your legs were still wobbly. You pulled his sweatpants the rest of the way off, letting Keeho watch you as he continued getting himself off.

As you settled yourself in between his legs, you wanted to tease him a little bit. You gently stroked along the inside of one of his thighs, mostly because you wanted to see if it’d make him squirm, but also as a little payback for what your own thighs had been through. “How’s this, Kee?”

The reaction was immediate, his thighs tensing under your touch. “It’s, uh, yeah.”

“Let me know if you wanna stop at any time,” you repeated his words from earlier as you took him into your own hand again, moving his away. It landed limply beside him on the bed, but you wagered that soon it would be occupied with something else.

You wasted no time in running your tongue along his cock, taking notice of which places seemed to be most sensitive (luckily for you: the answer was all of it). Once you finally wrapped your lips around him, Keeho let out a punched sound that turned into a groan.

“I’m not gonna last long at all, shit.” Keeho tried to look at you but his head was immediately falling back onto the pillow. “Can’t look at you, really fucking want to, but I wanna last longer than 5 seconds.”

“That’s ok, baby,” you tried out the pet name on him this time, loving the way he twitched in your hand. “Do what feels best.”

“Fuck, uh- are you sure?” Since you didn’t have your mouth back on him yet, he chanced looking down at you again. He fared a little better this time but not by much. “I can sometimes get kinda, uh, carried away.”

“As in…?” You wanted him to be the one to say it. You wanted him to tell you what he wanted, or better yet, show you what he wanted.

Keeho got the hint, finally placing one of his hands in your hair. He gave it a small tug, almost experimentally, and smirked at the small gasp you let out.

His other hand wove its way into your hair, and you felt him twitch again.

“You ready?” He looked like he was about to explode from holding himself back. You responded to him in the best way you could think of: you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as much as you could.

Keeho’s eyes rolling back were the last thing you saw before he guided himself back into your mouth. His pace was fine at first, but it picked up in speed rather quickly, his hands tightening in your hair as he controlled everything that was happening.

“God, I can’t-” you heard him gulp for air, “can’t believe I’m actually doing this with you. To you.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations flowing through his cock and making him cry out in return. He started pushing you down further, making you gag now but never pushing too far for it to be a problem. Your throat constricting around him must have been what he needed to finally let go, because after that it was just unfiltered thoughts from then on.

“Look so fucking pretty like this, letting me- ah, letting me f-fuck your face.” One of his hands detangled from your hair so his thumb could brush across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn’t realized was falling down. “And you’re crying too, holy shit-”

If you had the energy you honestly probably would’ve tried getting yourself off again because seeing Keeho fall apart like this was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen. But you wanted to focus all your attention on Keeho. Nothing on the brain, just Keeho.

He moaned loudly when you hollowed your cheeks more around him. “Just wanna- ruin you, wanna wreck you for anybody else.”

Oh. Where was that coming from all of a sudden? And why did you like it so much?

“But I also, fuck, wanna take care of you.” A harsher thrust this time, making you gag hard enough to almost choke. The panic that seized you for the briefest of moments - you didn’t know if that’s what caused it, or if it was his words.

He wanted to take care of you? What the fuck did that even mean?

Before you had much time to contemplate it, Keeho started moaning more frequently, barely able to get full words out now as his high was approaching.

“Fuck, I’m- close. Close, so if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth, ha now’s the time to m-move.”

You squeezed his legs as if to encourage him to just let go. Your only goal right now was to swallow down everything this man was about to give you - moving was not on your list. Keeho’s hand that had left your hair was now gripping the bedsheet, making a flexing motion every few seconds like it wanted something different to hold onto.

In a daring moment of bravery, you reached up one of your hands to intertwine with his own. What you heard in the next few seconds would likely stick with you the rest of your life (and probably haunt your dreams very often).

The moment your fingers were laced with his, Keeho’s head snapped up and he looked at you with wild eyes before drifting his sight to where your hands connected. You gave his hand a light squeeze and that was it. The sound he let out was almost loud enough that you mildly worried about him getting a noise complaint, but you also decided you didn’t give a shit, not when he sounded like this.

“Ah, I’m cumming, oh my god, fuck,” was the only warning you got before warmth flooded your mouth. You tried your best to swallow everything, but there was so much that some unfortunately spilled out of your mouth. Keeho continued making noise throughout, a mixture of something that sounded like your name with the moans that you were now - slightly - used to.

You decided to spare the poor man and not push him to the brink of sensitivity like he’d done to you. Plus, you needed to get the rest of his cum down your throat so you had other matters to attend to.

When you were done cleaning your face of any remaining cum, you licked around your fingers to get every last drop. A soft ‘shit’ got your attention and you looked up to see Keeho staring at you.

He had managed to push himself up to where he was sitting now, back against the headboard. “That’s so hot, what the fuck.”

You giggled before shrugging. “Be a shame to let all that go to waste, don’t you think?”

“Uh, I can’t really think much of anything right now other than just ‘what the fuck,’” Keeho’s smile was a bit lopsided and he clearly looked like he was still recovering.

Against your better judgment, you crawled back up the bed to where you were beside Keeho. He gave you a confused look but his gaze softened when he saw you lifting one of his arms. You rested your cheek against his chest and his arm was around you. He started tracing soothing patterns on your arm as you shifted yourself to get comfortable.

You’d already crossed a major line - what was a little cuddling gonna do to make it worse?

Pushing that thought away with all the others you’d smacked into some other regions of your brain, you noticed when Keeho wrapped both arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth. You could’ve fallen asleep right then and there - had he not placed a kiss on the crown of your head.

“This ok?” His voice was low, soft. You wondered if you maybe even detected some nervousness.

“It’s nice,” you answered truthfully. You’d probably hate yourself in the morning, sure, but why try to cut this feeling short now? You finally allowed yourself to wonder what it would be like if you actually gave all this a chance.

The more you thought about it, though, the more you felt something akin to ice flowing through your veins. You felt frozen, stuck - like what you were doing now was wrong and should definitely not be happening. You made up your mind that once Keeho was asleep and you could move freely without waking him, you were getting the fuck out of there. You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there before Keeho spoke up again.

“Hey,” he muttered, “I’m glad you stayed tonight.”

Another icy shard in your chest.

“And not just because - well, you know - but because I know you’re safe and not outside scared or freezing in the storm.”

“Me too,” you again answered him truthfully, because you meant every word. You were glad you stayed and you wanted to continue to stay. But all the alarm bells going off in your head were starting to win out over rational thinking.

You needed to get out of here. But you couldn’t leave now. Not when Keeho would know.

Not when he would know that you weren’t able to let yourself feel for him the same way he felt for you.

“Hey, Kee?” You somehow managed to talk around the lump in your throat.

“Hm?” He sounded like he was dozing, and you could tell from the slow way his chest was rising and falling that he was content.

“I’m not sure if I can sleep like this,” you lied. “Would it be ok for us to sleep how we were planning to in the beginning?”

“Yeah, whatever you want. As long as you’re comfortable.” That same lazy smile was waiting for you when Keeho lifted his arms. He helped you get back on your side of the bed (you weren’t going to think about the implications of that right now) and even got the blanket from earlier to drape over you again.

“Tea is still in there if you decide you want any,” Keeho yawned as he laid down and shimmied under some of the blanket so you both were sharing. “It’s not going anywhere, so just get some if you want. But also,” another yawn, “it’s not required during your stay.”

“When did this suddenly become a hotel,” you tried to joke, but it didn’t quite land. Thankfully, Keeho was too close to sleep to really notice. All you got from him was a soft chuckle before he breathed deeply.

“Goodnight. I’m right here if you need me.” Keeho told you this as he was turning to face the other way, probably trying to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed after everything that had just transpired.

“Goodnight,” you responded barely above a whisper. You almost didn’t breathe for the next few minutes, straining to listen for the moment that Keeho was sound asleep. After you heard him snoring softly, you waited a few minutes and started moving slowly toward the side of the bed. When you finally deemed it safe enough, you got up carefully and placed the blanket back down without causing too much movement. Keeho didn’t even budge, and the last look you threw his way was enough to plunge that icy dagger further into your heart.

You gathered up all your clothes as quietly as you could. As much as you hated putting your soaked clothing back on, the idea of staying in this apartment any longer made you feel worse. You ordered an Uber while you were trying to get back into all your clothing, thankful that there were still some running this late.

The doorknob leading out of the apartment felt cold underneath your hand when you went to turn it, the sound suddenly so loud in the otherwise peaceful, quiet room. You opened it without thinking too much more on it and closed it as softly as possible beside you. Once you were far enough away from the apartment, you just started running.

You needed to put as much distance between you and Keeho as possible, and luckily for you, your Uber pulled up right as you were making your way down the corridor that led outside. You got inside the car and inhaled shakily. The last thing you could think to do to try and put this behind you for now was take out your phone and send a single text to Keeho.

[you] 2:34 AM: i’m sorry.

i am also sorry, dear reader - there will be more to come for these two though! thank you so so much for reading, i hope you really enjoyed it~ 💜

(stormy divider used in this post is from HERE)

[ot3]

Hi, I just finished the AA trilogy with my bf and we fell in love with it! I found your blog the other day, and it sometimes feels like you're the only one giving correct takes on these characters' writing and the minutiae of everyone's inner worlds (or the fumbling of, see Godot).

I just got here, but, something that's been bothering me about the fandom's approach to the sequel trilogy is like... the imperialist undertones are glossed over, or swept under the rug. Researching "The Dark Age of the Law" and beyond puts a sour taste in my mouth. And with Khura'in the country vs Kurain the village? It all feels racist at best (the concept of the Divination Seance gives me squick). If you have the time, I'd love to hear your thoughts about AA5 and AA6 in relation to the world of AA as a whole. Thanks again for all of your thoughtful and nuanced takes on this series!

so glad to hear you guys liked the games!! thank you for enjoying my posts, i always appreciate it.

the tl;dr of it is that i do think they are genuinely bad enough additions to the franchise that they have signed mainline ace attorney's death warrant. picking out the dark age of the law stuff and aa5 and the imperialism in aa6 you've pretty much honed right in on my two biggest critiques

however i do want to say that although they're being bundled and sold as a 'second trilogy' that's not quite accurate either experientially when playing the games or from a development perspective. aa4 had scenario design/creative direction by series creator shu takumi, with the art director being kazuya nuri (responsible for character design for rise from the ashes in the series previous to this); aa5+6 was spearheaded by takeshi yamazaki, who had been with the franchise since its first game, with the slightly less tenured takuro fuse on art direction/character design. yamazaki and fuse are not without skill, but i think they're both significantly less skilled than takumi and nuri respectively and. it really shows.

pair that with the fact that aa5 and 6 fundamentally do not follow up on any of ace attorney 4's established characters or plots more than superficially, i don't think it's particularly useful to critique 4-5-6 as if they're a single body of work in the same way the trilogy is. apollo justice isn't a perfect* ace attorney game but it's a good one.

anyway i think buying into the 'dark age of the law' stuff in ace attorney 5 necessitates cheapening all of the events preceding it. the implication that 1. the law wasn't that bad before but it Is Now and 2. a single case was the tipping point for whether or not the entire legal system would be bad just ruins the times when ace attorney has managed to acknowledge corrupt systems as a massive source of problem for the everyman in the past

i think this screenshot from the dark age of the law wiki page says a lot:

For starters, that phoenix quote. He would not fucking say that. I don't think there has ever been a point during or leading up to phoenix's career where he thought the legal system had 'glory' he would then want to restore it to. you seem to get it so im not gonna harp on this too much on this but. jesus christ

then, then there's fact that even by stating the most basic details about the franchise's events undermines the whole premise. like okay notice that the corruption that happens during the trilogy/investigations spinoffs is coming from all of the actual agencies that represent law and order/the system: the prosecutors, the police, and the prosecutorial investigation committee. however in aa5 the thing they choose to paint as responsible for supposedly unprecedented levels of corruption in the legal system is defense attorneys resorting to more drastic means, and the general public; aka not the people who are responsible for upholding the legal system but the people who are victimized by it and in opposition to it.

i don't think this was an intentional choice as much as it's just sloppy, inconsiderate, and contrived writing.

aa6 is just flat out racist. 'imperalist undertones' is i would say the gentlest way you could phrase it. like. japanese characters going to a made up south asian country that needs to be taught how to govern itself to quash its internal rebellion is like. so high on the yikes meter.

making a bunch of fake 'ethnic sounding' nonsense names filled with apostrophes to make them into silly sounding english phrasing was a disastrously tone deaf thing for the localization to do. they're really unforgivable. the worst of it all is probably "Inga Karkhuul Haw'kohd Dis'nahm Bi'ahni Lawga Ormo Pohmpus Da'nit Ar'edi Iz Khura'in III" i'm unsure if the names are quite as offensive in the original japanese because i haven't looked too much into what they actually are and have a really limited knowledge of the language. but. this name in japanese is "インガ・カルクール・ククルーラ・ラルバン・ギジール・ホフダラン・マダラ・ヴィラ・ヤシマ・ジャクティエール・クライン３世" which is written in katakana. katakana is, in contrast to kanji and hiragana which are used for writing japanese, used to phoenetically transcribe foreign languages or to write loan words. so the foreign-ness of this character is being emphasized here in the original text as well.

the supposed cultural inferiority of the khurainese people is baked into the game at pretty much every level, down to the gags. khura'in has the 'plumed punisher' show, which is actively criticized by the characters in game for just being a cheap ripoff of the steel samurai. they don't even get to have their own tv.

i believe the reason the racism is pretty much glossed over a lot in the fandom is for several reasons. for starters, ace attorney fans overall tend to fall into three camps: 1. people like me who fucking hate these games, refuse to acknowledge them, and would retcon them out of existence if possible. 2. people who have found things they like about the game and have a Good Version of the characters and plots that they have constructed in their head and 3. people who view all of the hate on these games as completely overblown

the first camp Does talk about how the game is racist but we're all already in agreement about that so it's kind of preaching to the choir and a bit redundant to keep going on about. the second camp tends to acknowledge the stickier aspects of the game but focuses on making content around the elements they like rather than critique. the third camp is the type to throw the baby out with the bathwater re: critiquing a thing they like. it's all haterism to them. but either way i think its kind of fucked up how many people will be like 'aa6 isnt that bad you guys are just mean' without even acknowledging these complaints.

anyway the khura'in country vs kurain village thing is really weird to me it shows both a lack of imagination and a disregard for the series' own established lore. why would a girl from a village where almost everyone is a spirit medium need to go to a place where only, like, two people are mediums to train.

i will say though that the divination seance is kind of one of the only things i found about aa6 to be an interesting addition. for a franchise with ghost summoning and murder solving, the two have a kind of hilariously low amount of overlap so i found the idea of bringing ghost bullshit into court really fun. mechanically speaking, the divination seances also felt a LOT better to play than the mood matrix segments of aa5.

in general, i think the biggest weakness of the mainline franchise under takeshi yamazaki's stewardship is its misunderstanding of stakes. both aa5 and 6 prioritize more bombastic and impressive on paper material stakes. oh no! the ENTIRE JUSTICE SYSTEM BEING GOOD OR BAD depends on this one case! on no! we have to DEAL WITH REBEL INSURGENTS! complete horseshit when there is not competent and functional enough character writing to get us emotionally invested here. yamazaki seems to think bigger is better, and that just simply isnt true for something like ace attorney

i've pointed this out in the past when critiquing aa5 and 6 but if you look at the actual material stakes on the line in ace attorney, they're at their highest after rise from the ashes. ousting the corrupt chief of police is the most impressive and impactful thing phoenix does with his career (arguably until the jurist system, but definitely in the trilogy.) but that's not the big Finale case for his character arc. his finale case is defending his college girlfriend; a nun who lives in the mountains, whose conviction would have had zero implications on the larger fabric of ace attorney's legal system. because takumi's writing clearly shows that he understands what makes a plot impactful is the emotional stakes the characters have invested in the events.

before taking over the main franchise, takeshi yamazaki was responsible for the miles edgeworth investigations spinoffs. i do enjoy both of those games - aai2 in particular is really strong. yamazaki does a great job with edgeworth's character arc even if i have some specific gripes with the duologys writing. i think theyre solid additions to the franchise. but you can see traces of this sort of misalignment in narrative priorities here as well. for example, the last case in aai1 is notorious for still going on for, like, an entire hour or two past the time when the last remaining plot point we care about has been revealed. because yamazaki seemingly had no understanding that That was the thing the case should have been about, and that should have been the final mic drop of the game. it just keeps going! he didn't know the game was done and he added a bunch more bullshit busywork after it that no one likes!

so yeah. without going into anything even as specific as how individual plotlines or character arcs were mishandled in aa5/6 that's really my overview What Went Wrong of those games.

[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ʜᴏɴᴇʏꜱᴜᴄᴋʟᴇ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: So...I have been wanting to become better at writing oral, and I have decided to mess around with some bachelors and how they would do it; here is the one I wrote Sam. If you are interested in any other bachelor, feel free to let me know, I have starters for most of them already, LOL- Anyway, thank you for your time and enjoy!~

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 751 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: nothing much. afab!Reader receiving oral, teasing, greedy Sam, slobber, hinting at over-stimulation. Short but sweet.

The blond had already pinned you to the bed before you had even been able to finish asking if he would ever consider eating you out.

Impatience had gotten the best of him almost immediately, full bodyweight resting on the soft blanket, as he kept your legs open with quivering hands. He had been waiting for this for ages, but hadn't wanted to push you into anything you didn't want. But now, he finally had you where he wanted you. Lying on the bed with your pants somewhere in the room, legs spread for him and his face between your thighs.

A groan escaped your boyfriend as soon as the prospect of eating you out was just in reach. Greedily, he pressed his pierced, drooling tongue against your clit.

He hadn't quite thought about taking your panties off yet, but he just couldn't focus his thoughts on such a task. He needed to get to you now, and that didn't allow time to remove the thin fabric.

Blue eyes staring up at you, the tip of Sam's tongue poked at your clit, rubbing the fabric against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The gasp he coaxed out from you due to such simple actions made his head spin; the pulsing he felt through the cloth going straight to his already hardening cock. Fuck, Sam just absolutely loved your sweet little pussy; loved how it would swell up for him when his fat tip fucked into you, his hand smacking and prodding at your clit while his balls slapped your skin raw. He loved how it sucked him in when he teased you with just the tip, he loved how it squelched with wetness when you were at his whim. And now he would get to fucking taste you. Another moan escaped him, sucking you through your now wet panties. The whimper he dragged from you was unholy, and he fucking drank it right up, devouring it and basking in it.

"Sam," you groaned, the blond paid you no mind. He was busy wettening your panties with his greedy mean tongue, poking and teasing you, lapping at you, but just not quite there despite him slobbering all over you. It had you absolutely desperate, desperate enough to reach down and at least pull your panties to the side.

The moment Sam's tongue came into contact with your bare, wet cunt, he was sure he could bust a not solely from eating you out. His brain simply shut off, and nothing else but you, your pretty and delicious pussy, and him existed. A tear dripped down his cheek as he nuzzled his face as far into you as humanely possible, his eyes rolling back into his head as he huffed in your scent. Three desperate, long, pathetic inhales to hammer your scent into his brain.

"Sam, please," you whined, your hips bucking up to get to feel the pierced muscle again - and who was Sam to deny you?

He definitely wouldn't.

Groaning, he began to lick and lap at you, tongue trying to get as much as possible onto its taste buds while his lips worked to suckle out even more of you. His abuse on your clit started up again, piercing grinding against the sensitive area, soliciting whines and moans from you that only made the pit Sam had fallen in deeper. He wanted to die here. Suffocate while tasting and smelling nothing but you.

He didn't even notice that his nails were digging into your skin so hard that you would bruise tomorrow, eagerness to milk you for your very last drop far too overwhelming. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked lightly, eyes flickering up to you. Your brows were scrunched together, and your lips were parted as you tried to let the string of moans escape that seemingly cut off your airflow, but failing miserably.

He let your clit slip from between his lips, just to suck it in again, one hand flying to pin down your bucking hips.

He wasn't done with you, and he didn't care if you could hold still. He would make you.

"Sam-"

No answer from the blond as his tongue tried to find every spot, mouth busy making out with your cunt like a man starving. It had your head reeling, your heart pounding. But even as your orgasm rocked through you, there was no stopping Sam.

He was going to suck you dry until there was no more honey to taste.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Short question: Do you have any tips for turning "If you knew anything about the Holocaust, you'd know why we need Israel" from a conversation ender into a conversation starter? Longer context: I find it important, as a Jewish anarchist and anti-Zionist, to try my best to have hard conversations about safety and perceptions thereof with irl Jewish family, friends, and acquaintances. My politics make me an outlier in these spaces, as does my status as a convert, which I choose to be quite open about. I cannot begin to estimate how many people self-righteously cut short these conversations with "If you knew ANYTHING about [the Holocaust/antisemitism/generational trauma] you'd UNDERSTAND why we REALLY NEED [medinat yisrael/any jewish ethnostate/colonial zionism]". I'm under no illusion that I'm a scholar on the history of antisemitism or Jewish living patterns or the Levant or anything. I've taken one college-level course on Nazi Germany policy and beaucratic shit, but it intentionally dealt minimally with the pointy end of the death machine. I've taken two year-long Judaism 101 style classes, which of course dealt with the history of the Jewish people. I read relevant nonfiction, both books and essays. I also understand that being a convert gives me a very different personal history with the intergenerational trauma, and I want to be super respect of that. So overall I consider myself reasonably well informed, but I obviously can't respond to them with the "I know more than you" card. (Not that that would be a good way to handle it, but still.) I want to talk to people, who use this specific argumentative tactic, about what it means that our very legitimate traumas as a people led us to the point of producing our own little ethnostate (with a number of very paternalistic inputs from European nations of course). About how the shoah shaped modern zionism. About the biblical Joshua vs the archaeological evidence of that time period and what it means for our national/societal identities. About the haftarah in which israel demands a king and whether being just like the other nations has ever been lastingly good for literally anyone. But unanimously, people look at me like I'm the fool for going "yeah actually let's talk about history and fear and trauma and cultural legacies and (re)interpretation" instead of like. Applauding their sick burn about how clearly naïve I am. Do you, a Real Actual Holocaust Scholar, have a way to turn that "obviously you know nothing" accusation into a productive conversation? If so can you please share because I am losing my mind over here.

NOTE TO READERS: I'm going to speak frankly about stuff that goes down in the American Jewish community, as a lifelong and active MEMBER of that community. This is not fodder for any of your anti-Semitic bullshit and I'm deeply uninterested in Gentile Thoughts on what I'm about to write. You do not have my consent to weaponize anything you read here against Jews you encounter here, or elsewhere, regardless of their politics.

Oof ok. I have some answers, but you may not like them. First, politics within the Jewish community. I love that you're a convert and I respect your dedication and hard work; I'm sure you know much more about the Jewish faith than I do. However, as you know, Judaism is both a religion and an ethnic group/identity. And there are a lot of religious and secular Jews who chafe at the feeling of being told how they should and should not feel about Israel by a convert who does not share our heritage and experience of intergenerational trauma. Especially if they're over 60.

I also want to tell you that when members of our community, particularly individuals over 60 years of age, have their minds made up about Israel, Zionism, etc, they're not interested in valid historical takes from experts. Their minds are made up and they reject any information counter to their stance, and attack the person providing them with the info. I've been personally attacked here and elsewhere by our people for bringing up historical and archaeological issues which run counter to their arguments. I've had my intellect and education and abilities mocked, while I'm out here voluntarily traumatizing myself through my dedication to the study of Holocaust history.

Another issue, is that Jewish history is deeply interwoven in our observance, faith, and heritage. This gives individuals involved at various levels with the Jewish community the idea that they Know Jewish History. They don't. They know a version of the Jewish past specifically constructed by and within our communal spaces; see Zakhor by Hayim Yerushalmi. And a lot of them, especially if they're a man over 50 and you're a woman who reads as young, get real nasty if you assert vaster and more accurate knowledge. It's kind of similar to how people in our communities think that they Know Holocaust History because they read Night and Grandma was a survivor. But those things don't mean that they know Holocaust history--it means they've engaged with two first-hand accounts.

I'm going to advise you to stop trying with these people. I know that's not the answer you want, and I'm really sorry about that. But, the types of people you're engaging with are so deeply traumatized and set in their own defensive views, that they would never listen to me, a Jewish granddaughter of Holocaust refugees and academically trained Holocaust historian. And if they won't listen to me, they sure as hell won't listen to someone they view as an outsider to the Jewish historical experience.

You'd be better off engaging members of your community who are still learning and figuring everything out, discussing your views as equals who are learning from one another, and putting your energies towards Jewish organizations who do not need convincing of your perspective.

ETA: this is something that will only likely change over the course of generations. the traumas of the holocaust are still fresh and living in the minds of survivors, their Baby Boomer children, and their millennial grandchildren; and I'm saying that as one of those millennial grandchildren. The trauma-induced view that Israel is our shield against the Holocaust ever happening again will not change because of anything you or I might say. It will only begin to fade into new paradigms of thought when we are many more years removed from living memory of those events.

[futbol16]

Nothing is Going Well  • England Lionesses

Requests:  im sooooo loving the keira leah and georgia trio 😍😍😍😍 could I request a oneshot where the three have grown into Y/N’s older sisters and best friends. In their next game Y/N gets left bloody like Melanie Leupolz during the Chelsea match. Except this time the three see that the injury is much worse as Y/N is unresponsive, their favorite player who was happily playing with them 20 minutes ago now in danger

could you write something with leah keira and georgia being like big sisters to R? and like teasing her but also being very protective of her? thank you love your works

Word count: 4k

“GEE!!” a shriek accompanied by loud giggles echo through the corridors of the stadium and many of your teammates look back at the source of the sound. You’re running past Alex, a cookie in your hand and giggling like a maniac as you attempt to run away from Georgia who is chasing you.

“GIMME BACK MY COOKIE!” her booming voice only makes you throw your head back as you swerve in and out through the line of teammates filing into the stadium’s changing room. Georgia can’t help it anymore as she also breaks out in fits of giggles, her arms outstretched towards you as you just manage to slip away from her. 

The girls amusedly watch the two of you running around and they chuckle as you slip and fall on your bottom, Georgia crashing onto the ground too. You let out a loud groan as Georgia snatches the cookie back from you and in the same move she shoves the whole thing in her mouth. 

“Crackheads, those two, absolute crackheads.” Leah points to behind her as she grins at the camera, shooting it a cheeky wink that makes the cameraman laugh as he captures the England Lionesses arriving at the Brentford Community Stadium.

Georgia sticks her tongue out at you and you pout at her silliness, arms crossing over your chest. The brunette in front of you laughs at you and you look to the redhead approaching for help.

“Kie, Gee is being mean!”

“AM NOT!” she protests as Keira pulls you off the ground before throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“Let’s go girls. Warm ups start soon.” she nods towards the changing room where most of your teammates are waiting and Georgia ruffles your hair before skipping off. You grumble as you try to fix your hair but Keira poking at your cheek makes you look at her. Upon doing so you’re met with a cookie in your face and a cheeky smile on her face as you take it from her. 

“Shh, don’t tell Gee” she winks at you and you hug her waist as the two of you enter the changing room, your mouth full.

Leah, Keira and Georgia have become your best mates in the England camps and you cherished your friendship with them very much. You were much younger than the other three, standing at a rough 19 years of age and they instantly took you under their wings when you made your debut for the national team earlier this year. The trio had unofficially adopted you as their younger sister which they had been teased for by the other girls but they would only smile at their words as they’d pull you into their side and ruffle your hair, saying something about how you were ‘the team baby’. 

 All four of you played in different positions with Leah all the way back in defense, Kei and Georgia as the midfielders and you upfront as a forward. You had only recently made a name for yourself but it didn’t take long for you to become a fan favorite.

You grew up playing for Arsenal’s youth teams and despite being moved to the first team a year ago, you hadn’t had the chance to show just how good you were. The tragic injuries of Mead and Miedema had forced Jonas to experiment with his other players though, giving you, Frida, and Stina more game time, which had proved to be the right decision. Within two months you went from a last minute substitute to a constant starter and being recognized as the young star of the Reds. 

Leah had watched you excel on the field since your very first few minutes of your debut and she felt immense pride when you got your first start. She’s still in absolute awe of your talent every time you step on the field and she has kept you close to her at Arsenal too. She was one of your favorite people and you had even been on vacation with her family. Her mother often jokes that you’ve officially become a Williamson. 

Jonas knew that if it weren’t for ‘the main force at the front’ - referring to the team’s three goalscorers - he wouldn’t know what to do since Arsenal had been cursed with so many injuries. Similarly to your debut for the reds, you got your debut for the England Lionesses because of the number of injured players as well. 

Sarina had kept an eye on you all of last season and as an Arsenal fan herself she was excited to see what you would bring to the team. She had instantly put you in the starting line up, which was shocking to not only the fans but you as well. Nonetheless, you didn’t disappoint as you served two assists in the same match and then being named the player of the match. You only got better after and it was a no brainer for Sarina to have you play in the final of the Finalissima. 

Your journey had only just begun and you were already suspected to be a future Ballon D’or winner. Keira loved to remind you of this and since joining Barca she has frequently brought your name up to Alexia Putellas. When she first mentioned your name Alexia had confirmed that she knew about you and would love to meet you, gaining you a face time that Kei had arranged with one of your idols. 

You stand by the sidelines with Leah behind you, her arms around your shoulders as the two of you watch the girls start warming up. Your fingers curl around the blonde’s forearms as you lean back into her, finding safety in her arms. 

“You ready for this game?” she leans down to whisper to you and your eyes scan over the Australian players as you nod.

“Yeah” you pause as you spot Steph waving at the two of you and you wave back at her with a wide smile. You loved Steph and you had great chemistry on the field. “I’ve never played Australia before.” 

Leah tightens her hold on you as she presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“But it’s going to be fine and you’ll be great. Besides, it’s only a friendly so just in case you panic, remember that.” she tells you, knowing how much pressure you felt and your need to prove your worth to England. You nod again as you look up at her smiling.

“You too Lee.” you tell her seriously. Just like her, you also knew about the stress she was experiencing especially as captain. 

“Yeah” she assures you before Georgia and Keira come bouncing over. 

“Come on Y/N warm up with me!” Leah shoots the brunette a look as she brings you even closer to her, refusing to let go of you.

“You’ve had her for long enough! It’s our turn now!” the midfielder demands, ball in hand as she tries to tempt you with it. “Come Y/N, follow the ball”

“Gee she’s not a dog!” Keira laughs at her and you untangle yourself from Leah’s hold. She gives you a hurt look, dramatically slapping a hand against her chest and you giggle at her antics.

“I’ll be back but you go with Kei, okay?” you negotiate with the two while Georgia is shouting at you from a distance as she urges you to hurry up. They nod at you as you walk away from them and Leah leans into her best friend’s side.

“She should come to Barca” 

“Aww Kei don’t start” the blonde jokes as she throws her head back, smacking at her friend’s shoulder. 

“What? Jonatan already has his eyes on her. She’d fit right in.” she explains to Leah who nods, understanding. Leah knows you’re bound to join the club sooner or later in spite of being a die hard Arsenal fan, but it would be a great move for your career…somewhere down the line. 

“But Arsenal needs her more” she points out. Keira is about to open her mouth to interrupt again and tell her that Jonas won’t give you or any of this season’s players minutes once his main strikers are back, but Leah cuts her off. “Let’s go warm up, we’ve only got a few more minutes and Sarina won’t be happy with us.” 

You start on the bench for this game, which you don’t mind because it gives you more time to observe the Australians playing style before you would be substituted in. It’s clear from early on that Sarina’s new line up isn’t working as well as she had hoped. Leah and Esme can’t seem to connect in the defense, Millie is obviously greatly missed from there and every shot on goal is either wide or offside. Despite this, England still manages to keep more possession of the ball, but you worry that won’t mean much if you can’t get a goal out of it. 

If the number of injuries wasn’t enough, another is added to the tally in minute 28, but thankfully nothing serious as Lauren is subbed off for you. Sarina’s hand remains on your shoulder as you wait for Lauren to get to the sidelines, a silent encouragement that she has faith in you to change the game. 

On your run to your position you get pats on the back from Georgia and Keira, both throwing a word of encouragement after you. You slowly exhale as you look over the opposition and your eyes connect with another pair of eyes. You look away as you feel a wave of anxiousness crash over you and you focus back on the game at hand as the match is resumed. 

“Come on Y/N” you mutter under your breath, eyes trained on the ball. 

All it takes is one chance. And Kerr proves that to you as she runs after the ball, hot on Leah’s tail. Leah heads the ball down for Mary but it unfortunately bounces before she can catch it in her gloved hands and Kerr’s foot has already connected with the ball. It’s a goal for Australia. 

Leah walks back with her head hung low as she wipes at her forehead, disappointed in herself. While the Matildas celebrate you take the time to jog to your friend who has turned into an older sister.

“It’s a friendly, Lee. Remember that. You’ve been doing great” you assure her as you squeeze her fingers and she sniffles when she gives you an unsure smile. You nod back at her, telling her to believe you. 

“As long as we have you on the field, I’m not overly worried” she uses flattery as a distraction from her mistake but you see right through it. 

“We’ve still got time to turn this around.” is the last thing you tell her before getting back into position. You’re not too worried about your game because you have Keira and Georgia backing you up as well as your other teammates. Leah recognizes this as well and within a second she has her game face back, ready to face whatever would come next.

It took you a few minutes to get used to the Matildas’ football but you feel like you’ve figured it out. It instantly shows in your game because you’re creating chances for Chloe and Alessia whenever you can. The ball possession remains on England’s side as your team pushes forward and the Australians are visibly taken aback as shots are fired at them. None finds the back of the net until Kerr loses the ball from a pass that Raso gives her. You’re quick to pick up the loose ball and in a blink of an eye you’re sprinting towards their goal, sending a screamer into the top bins. You run towards the corner flag in celebration, patting the badge on your heart as your teammates surround you. 

“There you go!”

“Yes Y/N!” Lucy and Georgia scream in ecstasy. England keep the ball in their possession until the halftime whistle is blown three minutes after your goal. A giddy smile resides on your face, still happy about your involvement in the game and confident that the girls would come out victorious. 

Sarina’s halftime speech isn’t very long but everything she could say is said. When England reenters the pitch, Australia is already out and finishing up their drinks break. 

Arms make their way around your shoulders and you hear a whisper next to you. 

“I heard you got a crush on an academy player” Georgia’s voice is laced with a teasing tone as the two of you walk to the field. You abruptly pull back and turn to her, eyes full of questions.

“Who told you?” the brunette raises her eyebrows at your lack of denial but her expression quickly morphs into a smirk. She shrugs but you already know the answer.

“Leah” she says nonchalantly and another voice cuts in.

“She didn’t need to.” Keira’s arm circles your waist as Georgia’s arm is placed back around your shoulders. You look at the redhead in confusion and the girl on your other side decides to elaborate.

“Every time you tell us about your academy days you mention her name” you blush furiously as you remember the amount of times you had unknowingly flashed the girls a dreamy look when talking about your best friend from the Arsenal academy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” A chuckle leaves Georgia, there’s the denial. She shares a look with Keira who is giving you the same knowing look.

“Freya Godfrey. Does that ring a bell?” you can feel your face heating up and you hide in Keira’s shoulder as you listen to the two giggling at you. 

“Get away” you joke with them, pushing the both of them towards their positions on the field as you retake yours as well. You can still hear their giggles until they stop, getting ready for the game to restart. 

All seems to be going well as England better their tactics and keep the Australians on their toes. All seems to be going well as Chloe, Alessia, and yourself make a run towards their goal. All seems to be going well as Alessia delivers a wonderful cross to you. All seems to be going well until nothing is going well. 

You jump forwards to head the ball into the net and at the same time Sam Kerr tries to intercept. She also jumps, leg outstretched towards the incoming ball but she misses and instead of the ball she gets you. You can feel her studs sliding across your face before you land on the ground with a big thump. Searing pain takes over you as you lay face down on the grass, eyes stinging, nose feeling like it’s not in place and your head throbbing. Then suddenly you feel nothing as everything goes numb.

Kerr looks down at you, a horrified look on her face but the referee hasn’t blown the whistle yet and she feels obligated to run after the ball. Alessia is immediately screaming for the referee as you lay still while Keira instantly runs to your aid. It takes the ref around two minutes to finally blow the whistle and by that time Keira and Alessia have managed to turn you on your backside.

Your face is covered in blood, so much so that they can barely make out where your mouth is. 

“Oh no, no no” Keira is panicking as she looks you over and she starts waving for the medics. 

Georgia and Chloe are the next to get to you, both gasping in shock. Georgia feels sick to her stomach and she turns away from the sight of you all bloodied, opting to lean onto Rachel for support. Keira’s hand is on your knee as she calls out your name, waiting for any sign that you’re awake.

By the time Leah gets to you the medics are already making their way past Georgia and Rachel.

Leah’s face pales at what she sees and she drops to her knees next to you in horror. 

“Leah” Keira’s voice is broken as she searches for her captain's eyes. Her eyes remain on you however and she reaches a shaking hand out to your face, moving a strand of bloody hair from your forehead. Medics push them back as they try to assess the damage. 

Your three sisters watch in almost slow motion as they lift your head and wipe the blood from your face. They watch as the medics feel for a pulse and their panic only rises until they get a thumbs up and they allow themselves to let out the smallest exhales of relief. 

“She’s -” Georgia can't finish her sentence as her eyes water. Another wipe of your face reveals the cut on your cheek and nose. It also reveals the swelling of your nose and the misplacement of it. A broken nose. It’s not a big injury and you’d recover quickly but the way your face is now adorned with small cuts is not a pretty sight and it only makes your teammates even more worried.

“Oh my god” Leah wipes her eyes before the tears can fall. You have still yet to open your eyes or give them any indication that you were conscious. 

“What’s going on?” Keira questions one of the medics as they load you onto a stretcher.

“She’s likely passed out from the pain. She’s got a broken nose and maybe a concussion but that’s about it. She’ll need stitches for two of those cuts. We’re taking her to the medical room” the team is briefly told as the medic rushes the words out before he runs off after his colleagues.

The three stare after them as the medics carry you off the field, sorrowful looks painted across their faces as it sets in. Georgia huffs out a breath of frustration for not being allowed to go after you while the other two reflect on just twenty minutes ago when you were running around and scoring. 

The loss of your presence is immediately felt as Australia scores seven minutes later though it’s called off as an offside. The rest of the game goes by in a blur and the second the final whistle is blown and the teams have shaken hands, the trio are off towards the locker room in search of you. Hoping that you’re okay and sitting in your cubby with one of their hoodies draped over you like usual, waiting for them to get back.

Silence and emptiness is what greets them when they open the door of the changing room. They turn on their heels, marching to where they think the medical room is, to where you’d be. However, before they can reach it Leah is pulled back by a hand on her arm and she looks to one of the staff members. He wears an apologetic look on his face and she knows what’s coming.

“Now?! They want me to do a post-match interview now??!” she aggressively barks back but calms herself as she follows the staff member, urging Georgia and Keira to find you.

“Good evening Leah, sorry to hold you back, we’ve only got a few questions.” the interviewer tells her but she couldn’t muster up a genuine smile even if she tried. She speed runs the basic questions she always gets asked, her feet thumping on the floor as she looks behind the camera every few seconds, waiting for the signal that she can leave.

“Do you feel this tie is a setback?”

“Uh no. Absolutely not. Sometimes you have to take blessings in disguise. This friendly allowed us to experiment with different lineups and strategies which I think could help us greatly for the world cup.” she nods along to her words.

“Facing one of the top teams, top player. How hard was it to stop Sam Kerr ?”

“As a footballer you expect to go up against those top teams' top players. Obviously it’s hard, it’s a challenge but yeah, I think we nullified the threat pretty well. Obviously gifted that goal..” she pauses for a second as they replay the clip where she headed the ball towards Mary, effectively giving a goal to Sam.

 “You play top teams - watching it again, thanks for having that in front of me” she lets out a nervous laugh as she rewatches the clip. Your words echo in her mind and she wills herself to calm her nerves. 

“You play top teams, you play top players and when they’re in form sometimes that punishes us, but I think this has fueled the fire in us. It gives you a bit of fire.”

The interviewer nods at her answer as she checks over her questions and once again Leah finds herself glancing towards the doorway in hopes of getting away.

“Y/N L/N took a rough hit tonight in a nasty collision with Sam Kerr. She’s a recent addition to the team, what can you say about her as a player?”

Leah’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of you, her mind replaying the scene in front of her as you fell to the ground, when she saw your blood covered face, how you were unresponsive. She clears her throat as she tries to clear the images from her head.

“She’s pure class, a very talented young player and I believe she has got a very bright future ahead of her.” she says, voice full of determination as her eyes twinkle with pride but also worry.

 “Speaking of, may I?” she points a thumb to the side, asking if they could wrap up the interview.

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your time!”

“Yeah, thanks” she rushes out before jogging down the corridor to where the medical room is, anxiety and nervousness rising in her chest.

Upon opening the door a squeal greets her.

“Leeeeee!” your voice is nasally but it brings Leah so much comfort she could fall to the ground in relief. Georgia and Keira are sitting on either side of you, both holding onto your hand as they smile at their captain.

“Hey babes” she breathes out, taking long strides to your bed. She takes notice of your wrapped up nose and the stitching on your cheek. She gently runs a finger over it before she leans down to press a big kiss on your hairline. You grin up at her, nodding to the space next to your legs and she sits down.

“So?”

“Mild concussion, broken nose-”

“Not anymore!” you cut off Keira’s medical report, giggling to yourself. Leah raises an eyebrow at your state.

“No more broken nose then but she has stitches on the bridge of her nose and her cheek - as you can see” Leah scans your face before resting a hand on your thigh and giving you a gentle smile.

“I feel like a hamster.” you announced, flailing around your hand and Georgia’s. “You know in my dream there was this big big green truck? I named it Weelah Liliamson.”

The girls burst out laughing at your words, the air becoming lighter.

“Oh yeah, and she’s high on meds.” Georgia states, chuckling at your offended expression.

“I don’t get high, I’m a football player you know? You know I’m a football player? I play football!” 

“Yeah, yes I know” she giggles along.

“Don’t take drugs kids, no drugs.” you shake your head at her, eyes wide and bleary. 

“Okay Y/N/N, we’re taking you home yeah? You’re sleeping at mine.” Leah pats your thigh to gain your attention and you sit up straighter.

“We’re having a sleepover?! YESSS!” you cheer before falling back.

“Shhh. Yes, sleepover.” Keira confirms, helping you drink. An amused look in her eyes, only happy that you were feeling beter.

“You guys are my bestest friends, man I love you all so much” you mumble out, eyelids suddenly getting heavy. The three look at each other with wide smiles, their heart melting at your words and they watch over you as you fall back asleep.

“We love you too”

[lychee-angelica]

8th house lord through the houses ✧˖°

vedic astrology

disclaimer ~ this is based on my own research & opinions, so if it doesn’t resonate please let it go. this should go without saying but please do not plagiarise heh

how to find your 8th house lord ~ for starters please only use your vedic/ sidereal chart & whole sign house system. the 8th house lord planet is indicated solely by the sign that falls within the 8th house of a chart. look for the house in your chart where your 8th house lord planet is sitting in. i have included a guide at the very bottom of this post as well but if you need clarification feel free to dm me x

✧˖° 8th lord in 1st house

these people are very seductive & alluring! high physical sex appeal & most likely has very high sex drives. they have a very mysterious & hypnotic presence. highly mystical & intuitive - it is very hard to deceive these people. sensitive & has a very emotionally vulnerable side to them - they try to keep this side of them low-key. comes across as mystical, deep & sensitive. may have health issues that deteriorate their vitality whether mental or physical - keep on top of your well-being. these people have powerful potential to transform one’s self physically - like they can drastically transform other’s perception of them. as per stereotypes, may be prone to seclusion & secrecy on a characteristic level

✧˖° 8th lord in 2nd house

people with this placement have very sexually attractive facial features, especially the eyes & lips. seductive voices! these people are very ‘sensually seductive’ - if that makes sense. may have very deep issues related to self-worth. may be prone to disordered eating & consumption of intoxicates as a means to pacify psychological issues - please be careful of diet culture & intoxication if you have this placement. ability to benefit off other people’s money - just saying reminds me of sugar baby archetypes (8th house is the finance of others & 2nd house is material items). other wise, benefits financially from work related to investigation, research, psychology, astrology, mystical practices, sex, finances or health 

✧˖° 8th lord in 3rd house

people with this placement may be very interested in occult, fantasy, mystical, true crime or mysterious topics. has a mind for mystery. these people are most likely shy - especially when it comes to talking to others. seductive & hypnotic way with words - other people may often take what you say as suggestive even if it’s not. amazing placement for creative writing, especially fantasy or criminal genres. these people may be very sexual inclined, however be careful of not over doing it with sexual activity or becoming too infatuated with it (8th house is sex & 3rd house is hobbies). may be interested in longevity & anti-aging

✧˖° 8th lord in 4th house

highly intuitive, empathetic & good at supporting others. has a great need to connect with others intimately & usually does so intensely, especially within emotional & sexual relationships. for this reason sex & love tend to go together for these people, they often desire devotional bonds/ relationships. these people may harbour or bottle up feelings of shame, isolation & victimhood. usually these feelings are associated with the mother, childhood or home environment in some way. mother may be a scorpionic person or if there are no afflictions the mother may just has interest in spirituality/ mysticism. these people should be very cautious of attracting people who treated poorly within their intimate relationships 

✧˖° 8th lord in 5th house

these people most likely express themselves creatively in a scorpionic way, whether that is intentional or not - megan fox has this placement & she has always been subject to roles that objectify & sexualise her (8th house is sex appeal & 5th house is theatrical entertainment). these people likely enjoy having sex very much, especially within romantic/ committed relationships. has a good understanding of occult, taboo, sexual topics although may be to overly obsessed with these themes. their creativity comes in sudden bursts of energy. if this person has children/ is wanting to the relationship with them may be challenging & dramatic. most likely able to financially support their children. people with this placement should be extra wary of accidental pregnancy

✧˖° 8th lord in 6th house 

profound ability & strength to overcome their obstacles whether they are financial, emotional or psychological. prone to feelings of victimization & vulnerability, be very cautious of others who may try to take advantage of you especially sexually or monetarily. prone to other’s competing with them due to their sex appeal, attracts jealousy from other people - jealousy could even be very low-key, ik this sounds bad but it’s just because you’re so gorgeous! may routinely deal with unwanted attention. very talented in research & investigation. monetary gains can come from disasters, health issues, insurance or injuries. take special care of your own health & the health of your pets x 

✧˖° 8th lord in the 7th house

these people relate to others in a very primal, seductive or intimate way, vice versa. people with this place have many admirers for this reason but be cautious of other people maybe getting the wrong impression of where your interests lay. may be the types who may are good at stalking/ gathering information on a love interest usually via social media. enjoys having sex & is sexually skilful. likely to desire marriage/ commitment. your partner may be passionate & mysterious, a scorpionic type of person. may have sudden disruptions or changes in relationships & marriages

✧˖° 8th lord in the 8th house

deeply interested in occult or taboo subjects, understands & contemplates things deeply. may be detached & caught up with fantasy rather than reality. may be prone to disturbing fascinations related to occult, hidden aspects of life or sex. psychic & intuitive. highly sexually appealing & connects with others intensely during sex. likely to desire commitment & marriage. sometimes this applies but work toward bettering negative thinking patterns & emotions like spite, meanness & manipulative tendencies. additionally, always take care of your mental, emotional & physical health x

✧˖° 8th lord in the 9th house

non-conforming & breaks traditional faith/ beliefs. challenges, tempts or even disturbs other people’s moral compass & faith whether this is intentional or not. greatly intelligent, opinionated & insightful on topics of occult, mysticism, sex & death. most likely occultist or atheists. may be very lucky & experience sudden increase in fortunes. most likely able to benefit from inheritance, wills & insurance - by any legal means. powerful & skilled at manifestation through intention & prayer. that being said, manifestation is so powerful that these people need to be very mindful of negative thinking as this may also manifest itself. be very wary of teachers or older men who may cross boundaries or establish inappropriate relationships. may have sudden disruptions or changes in your higher education - beyond high school

✧˖° 8th lord in the 10th house

people with this placement may seem to be shy, reclusive or deep in thought in the eye of the public. otherwise in more extroverted people the sexual side of the 8th house can be more aligned with their public prominence. these people may be overlooked by other’s but when they do receive attention from authority figures or older men it is intense & overwhelming - always be wary of older men who are sexually interested in you, particularly if they are of a higher status than you. great research & analysis skills which makes them well suited for careers related to secrets, scandals, psychology, investigation, death & surveillance. avoid scandalous behaviour as it will most likely hinder your public image or even career. may experience many sudden changes in status & work     

✧˖° 8th lord in the 11th house

people with this placement may have trouble fitting in & feels like an outcast usually due to issues w/ social anxiety. often attracts friends & people within their social circles that are sexually interested in them - so be cautious of people in your circle for this reason. prominent placement for people who gains financially through sexual, mysterious, investigative or esoteric activities - i noticed this placement to be prominent in top only fans creators. may  experience very sudden rises in wealth/ gains & fame/ social status, although be wary of scandals as they may cause sudden negative turns in luck the same way. generally these people will have a better adult life than their childhood

✧˖° 8th lord in the 12th house

these people are highly skilled at spiritual practices such as detachment, yoga & meditation. they have true understanding of spirituality & reincarnation. most definitely can be shy & introverted types. people with this placement may have emotional or psychological issues that stem very deep. deeply fascinated with fantasy or mystical topics. prone to feeling victimised, at a loss or trapped. high sex drive although may be frigid toward sexual intimacy with others. may have sleep troubles or disorders - please take care of your sleep. be wary of taking bad/ negative actions as they may lead to loss. be very cautious of sexual relationships that debilitate your energy especially via pressuring  

guide ✧˖°

[critterbitter]

Hi there! I wanted to preface this by saying that your submas and Nimbasa trio art are awesome, and I adore the way you draw them and write their interactions ❤️ . Their expressions, the way they move and interact with each other and the world around them, it's great 👍.

There's something I wanted to ask regarding your comics, and I ask this with the utmost respect 🙏, because it's something I've been wondering: where are their parents? It's awesome that they do all this stuff together, but the parents are, like, never brought up. Not even Elesa's after her introduction to the twins. And Ik that in the Pokemon verse, you're free to do whatever at age 10, but I still wanted to ask in your comics, at least, since they're still so young, if there's going to be any mentions of them.

I don't want you to feel pressured to draw designs for their parents or anything like that! It's perfectly understandable if you've never thought of the subject, I just wanted to know if they're still in the picture or if, for drama effect, they're orphans adopted by uncle Drayden in your lore. (Ofc, if you believe in the uncle Drayden theory, that is).

And once again, thank you for all the work you do! You're awesome, and your art is awesome 👌. And I really hope this ask doesn't come off as mean or offensive, I'm just really curious about anything you'd be willing to give about submas parents. Thank you 😊 for everything once again. Your work is greatly appreciated 🙏.

:0!

Going to be honest, I didn’t really think about them parents much— pokemon treats most parent figures as non-entities, so… yeah. Feral teenagers running around.

If you want to hear my rambling though! (Note that this is all work in progress! Things are inclined to change.)

Worldbuilding for this iteration, I like to think it’s cultural that everybody has a pokemon starter/ ace that they grow with, but it depends on individuals to decide how close their lives intertwine. That in mind,

Ingo and emmet have two moms! Their ma’ is drayden’s twin sister— Kaita, haxorous ace, and a dragon specialist. And their mother, Lucielle, a stoutland ace, works as a full time trainer. The ladies are a bit absent from the twin’s life because they have their own business, but like to send Ingo and Emmet stuff from wherever they roam. (They tried their best when the kids were younger. But talking about having kids, and actually raising kids are two different topics in life.)

Drayden serves as an uncle figure for the twins, but he’s a bit bitter he got two patrats dumped on him.

((Does the lack of parent figures and a distant uncle have lasting effects on ingo and emmet? That’s up for your interpretation. Though it would explain latching onto each other and then later litwick and tynamo…))

As for the pachirisu child—

Elesa’s parents are separated. Her dad, Rin, works a full time desk job. He means the best, but he’s never home. He lost his staraptor a while back and is still dealing with the grieving process, and isn’t really equipped to look after a kid on top of all that. Elesa’s mom, Himawari, is still in Sinnoh and works as a ranger. Her ace is a solrock.

(Why are they separated? That’s for you guys to postulate! I am simply throwing ocs at the wall.)

Elesa was moved to unova partially due to her dad’s new job, and partially due to that Entire Nebulous Situation. She adapts fast, but it’s not a fun adaption.

Anyways, the twins and elesa in turn grew up very independent as a result.

And that’s the barebones!

[zonedelicious]

In the X-Men fandom this scene is constantly brought up to call the character Noriko racist, call the entire book racist, and even call the fans and writers racist. And as a Muslim fan of Academy X I am very confused at this harsh reaction because to me it is obvious the story is siding with Sooraya.

For starters X-Men can be very VERY racist and islamophobic. I've recently been reading Claremont's New Mutants and it's painful how racist that book is to Arabs. I wanted to stop reading because of the racism.

But I do not get this reaction from Academy X, which is my favourite X-Men book.

I think a lot of people don't know what kind of book Academy X is. Academy X is a book about delinquents. The main characters are a bunch of asshole kids. The appeal to me is seeing these shitty kids grow and become better people. Yes they make mistakes that's the point. They're stupid kids.

Noriko is one of these kids. She was homeless at a young age because of the poor relationship with her family and because of this she's afraid of ever showing any vulnerability. Choosing to rather lash out at others. It's a realistic coping mechanism.

The scene with Sooraya shows this as Noriko is projecting her own trauma onto a poor girl who only wanted to be nice to her. Yes it's shitty but that's the point. We're seeing how their personalities and viewpoints clash, and how Sooraya is challenging Noriko's beliefs.

I do not see how anyone can read this as the book being racist when the scene even shows Sooraya sad. Something like this never happens when an X-Men book is actually islamophobic. Yet people never react as harshly to actually racist X-Men books as they do to this.

It's actually very similar to a scene at the start of Ms Marvel, where Zoe is racist to Nakia. We can clearly see both scenes are suppose to make you feel uncomfortable and make you side with the Muslim girl. And both Zoe and Noriko are humanized despite being bullies.

We even get a conclusion. Some say this isn't enough, but remember that Noriko refuses to show emotions, so the fact she's willing to go against her instincts here is interesting. It's more interesting to me than simply having a generic anti racism speech.

Again Sooraya is entirely humanized here. The comic is understanding of her struggle. I do disagree with the way she's drawn at times, but the writing makes her a character I could relate to. And reading this conclusion only makes me more interested in both characters.

Sadly neither character ever got a proper character arc after the comic ended. But to me that just makes me wish there were more comics of this group where we do see Sooraya and Noriko become close friends like Nakia and Zoe. It makes me think of writing my own story with them.

I love this book and what it means for Sooraya. I love seeing Sooraya's relationship with the Hellions, Jay and Laura. This is still her definitive comic, so why are we dismissing it entirely because of one scene that exists to make us relate to her?

It's very strange that this one scene, that to me is well made and relatable, is being used as a way to hate the characters, the comic, and everyone who likes it. Most hate isn't even coming from Muslims so is it just performative outrage and misunderstanding?

Or maybe this scene hits at home for some people? With the conversation being very realistic and grounded, people may see themselves in Noriko. Maybe they had a similar reaction towards a Muslim girl and are remembering it.

Noriko's stance isn't even that different from ex Muslim feminists who say similar things. The issue is how she is projecting onto Sooraya. And maybe that's what makes people uncomfortable. The complexity this conversation has in the real world.

Whatever it may be, Noriko still clearly grows after this arc. We do see her become a great leader who stands up for her friends. And even if she has issues to deal with, she was slowly becoming a better person.

In conclusion I love this book because it's relatable in how it portrays its characters. I like Sooraya being a Muslim character who's also a protagonist and a big part of the story. I hope more people give this book a chance and see the charm of it that I see.

Anyway time to go listen to anime music and imagine my OCs hanging out with the Academy X kids (need to draw that one day).

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Felix x Rime x MC Polycule Domestic Headcannons

Fandom: Last Legacy (Fictif/Nix Hydra/Dorian) Characters: Felix, Rime, Gender neutral MC Prompt: hcs ab how would domestic life be for Felix and Rime and MC polycule Requested by: @mossmosis Warnings: Brief stabbing mention (Rime is in this, so-)

Last Legacy content, in this day and age?! It's more likely than you think! I've gotten a bit distracted with other fandoms, but I've been meaning to return to my beloved Fictif fandoms. I suppose now's the time!

Also, thank the dice gods for bringing you this particular treat! I had motivation to write, but no idea what to do, so I rolled some dice and this was the result!

Requests are open, as always, so if you'd like to see more, send me an ask!

For starters, there is no shortage of sarcasm and snarky commentary in this relationship. It's practically one of your love languages at this point! Rime and Felix are both prone to making smart remarks, and when they're both in the mood for banter, things can get mildly out of hand... you've had to calm Anisa down after she witnessed one such moment, assuring her that the two of them were not, in fact, in a terrible mood and taking it out on each other. You've come to enjoy their banter, regardless whether you join in or simply sit back and watch the show.

Both of them enjoy teasing you and each other, though there are some stylistic differences. Felix tends to be a little softer and kinder with his teasing - don't get me wrong, there's often a little bite behind his words, that cute little smirk and playful sparkle in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He teases you about lighter subjects, and though he often speaks without thinking, he never means any harm by it.

Rime, on the other hand, doesn't hold back in the slightest. It's not that he means to hurt your feelings, he isn't doing it out of malice - he simply doesn't know when to back off sometimes. If you call him on it, he'll scoff and roll his eyes, likely making some little comment about you not being able to take a joke - but he won't tease you about that again, and he'll do something nice for you in the near future as an unspoken apology.

Speaking of gifts, both of them will absolutely shower you and each other with small gifts for absolutely no reason. Felix is prone to bringing something home for you both anytime he visits the market - it's very rare that he forgets, though sometimes he'll return empty-handed and visibly frustrated that he couldn't find anything suitable. He sometimes gifts you and Rime jewelry, and has surprisingly impeccable taste, always giving you something you'll love. Books are another of his frequent gifts, of course - you can expect any new books to go missing shortly afterwards as he borrows them to read them himself before quietly returning them a few days later. You've also received a few trinkets that match his gothic mage aesthetic, too, because it wouldn't be Felix if he didn't share his love of vaguely creepy things with you!

Rime tends to focus less on physical gifts and more on actions. He spends time with you both, learns about your interests, stabs your enemies, and does small things to help you out. He prefers to be a little more subtle with his affections, almost pretending like he doesn't care, when in reality he cares very much. It's not that he's hiding it, he just... isn't very open with his emotions yet. When he does bring you gifts, though, it's usually something pretty simple, like some random trinket he saw and thought of one or both of you. I could also see him taking up woodcarving as a hobby to help him relax and unwind, so you'll occasionally find a new gift from him sitting on your desk, carved from wood or, sometimes, from his shed antlers. He likes bringing you food, too, and memorizes both of your tastes and favorite treats so he can choose the best treats.

Getting all three of you in bed at the same time can be difficult, but when it is achieved, you have a delightful time cuddling with each other. On the somewhat rare occasion that you all turn in together, you take turns being the one in the middle unless one of you has had a particularly bad day and needs double the snuggles. Most of the time, though, whoever goes to bed first ends up in the middle, with the other two crawling in wherever there's space when they're finally tired enough to get some sleep.

Mornings are always interesting, too. You or Rime are always up first - it's almost never Felix. Whoever is up first starts making the coffee and/or tea, and you try to take turns making breakfast. Rime might complain if you miss your turn, but you know he doesn't really mean it. He won't admit it easily, but he actually enjoys cooking, especially for his partners. Once breakfast is ready and one of you drags Felix out of bed, you all sit down for a nice meal together. Depending on how busy you three are, sometimes breakfast is the only meal you can all have together, so you make the most of it!

When you do have time off from your busy schedules, you almost always spend it together. Most of the time you're in the study/library at Fathom, doing more casual research projects together or reading books in a comfortable silence. Sometimes, though, you go out to get some fresh air and a change of scenery! Wandering around Porriman markets is often a good way to spend an afternoon, sampling various treats and buying interesting things for one another.

Something else you three often do together is stargazing. Felix obviously loves it, especially when he gets to share it with his loves, and though Rime might comment that it's boring just to be a bit of a brat, once he gets comfortable he'll become far more relaxed. Often times these nights consist of you and Rime gazing quietly at the stars, listening contentedly to Felix's soft voice as he rambles on and on about them. He'll inevitably get a bit flustered when he realizes just how long he's been talking, but it's nothing a few kisses can't fix~

Honestly this entire relationship would just be so soft and so chaotic at the same time. You all love each other so much and care deeply for one another, but there's rarely a dull moment!

[artists-ally]

{Flatline} OFC x Harvey Specter {Pt.2}

Helllloooooooo. This is probably the filthiest thing I've written in a long time so I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. As I've been writing this part, I've tortured @rosedpetal to no end with a few teasers and I cannot wait for her reaction. As always, if anyone wants to be tagged in the next part lmk in the comments!!! I love seeing your guys' reactions it makes my day. enjoy loves <3 p.s. this is my birthday gift to you guys (even though it was two days ago it still counts)

Pt. 1 Character Playlist

Word count: 13,156 (holy shit)

Warnings: age gap, smut (18+), degration, exhibitionism, dom/sub vibes, language, anxiety/anxious thoughts, angst, a touch of fluff, more inaccurate lawyer shit

Summary: After Claudia and Harvey win their first case, the week and a half that follows is filled with more of Harvey's 'confidence boosters' and valuable lessons ;). But when they hit a snag in the case, Harvey can't keep the one promise he made to Claudia.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @maxdamax @ashcosmo

~~~~~

When I woke up the morning after, I didn’t know what to think. And I surely didn’t know what to do the next day. Or the day after that. Even a week later, mostly consumed with thoughts of Harvey and how to avoid him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that what we were doing was wrong. 

I mean, in ways it was. For starters, he was a name partner and I was a first year associate. He was at least ten years older than I was. Probably more. What would my parents think? My brothers? 

Hell, what do I think? 

It’s no secret that Harvey is a good looking guy; his sharp jaw, his cunning eyes and fierce smirk that always appeared whenever our eyes would meet. Just because I said I tried to avoid him, doesn’t mean my evasions worked. Nine times out of ten it always fails. Miserably. 

By the time the elevator chimed, the doors whisked open and I immediately looked to his office. Good, he wasn’t there. He always seemed to be waiting for me in his office, just watching. It was like he was stalking his prey. Which, in a way, always sent my skin burning and my mind running. Running right back to his tongue on mine, his hand in my hair… my hand wrapped around-

“Good morning, Claudia,” Donna’s perky voice nearly sent me to the hospital. She was already sitting in my cubicle. When did I end up in the bullpen?

“Jesus, don’t you know how to not give a girl a heart attack?”

She chuckled, “I like to start every day off with a surprise.” In her hand was another blue file. Labeled Friddle vs. Gustoson. It was a corporate case, something about some patent being violated and a stolen technology design.

“What is this for?” 

“Harvey wants to work with you on another case. He has not shut up about how well you did on the last one and knows you’ll bring this home too,” she was grinning. A look that meant trouble.

“Is that… all he’s talked about?” I had to be cautious. If she knew about what happened, I knew she’d tell me. But if she didn’t I certainly didn’t want her to find out. 

“I mean, he raved about that cross examination you gave. And about how nervous you were, but that he’s gonna keep working with you to help build that up because we all know you are the best damn associate this firm has to offer.”

Holy shit she didn’t know. She had no idea. Keep it cool, Claudia, don’t let your face give it all away.

“Oh,” I tried not to sigh in relief. “Yeah I was shitting bricks before the trial. But I did it, I guess.”

“You’re goddamn right you did,” she stood up, taking my hands in hers. “And you’re gonna kick ass again. And, since I know Harvey won’t say it to you, I’m proud of you. Good work, Claudia. Keep it up and Junior partner might be here sooner than you think.”

Donna’s ginger hair swayed back and forth as she waltzed away. That was a perfect way to describe her walk, a dance. I should learn how to walk like that.

I sat, firing up my computer and sorting through the motions and other filing work on my desk. It seemed like this part of the job never ended. We had to single-handedly be the reason twenty percent of the Amazon was gone. 

Other associates around me were gathered at Griffin's desk, chatting about whatever they did over the weekend. I had never, not once, been invited out for drinks or to lunch by any of the associates. Not that I expected to be, I never really made an effort. Not that I wanted to befriend any of these assholes. 

After I won the case, instead of congratulating me on keeping Harvey’s client with the firm and sending the losers running with their tail between their legs, all I got were dirty looks and hushed whispers behind closed doors. 

It made me feel nauseous. What if they knew? What if they found out about Harvey and I’s… whatever it was, and were spreading it through the office? Soon it would reach him. And if Harvey hear rumors then Donna would, and then Louis and Jessica and god knows who else-

“Griffin, Harvey wants to see you in his office,” Donna’s voice rang through the bullpen. Him and his group of dogs were not shy with the looks they gave me. My heart sank in my chest. At the same time I was relieved that it wasn’t me; at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with the hateful, resentful looks. Those were even worse than the ones of triumph. 

I occupied my ever anxious mind by burying my nose in the legal book next to my keyboard, highlighting rapidly to find the errors of some of the other associates' mistakes. Louis always had me check the others' work. He knew– either because Donna vouched for me, or he just saw that I was half competent– that I wouldn’t let careless mistakes slip through. So I always got them.

Lucky me. 

From grammatical errors to punctuation, it was endless. I wasn’t sure who this was, but they clearly have never taken an English class because they used ‘affect’ wrong. It needed to be ‘effect’. Within the same brief, they used ‘to’ instead of ‘too’, and ‘accept’ instead of ‘except’. I wanted to find whoever this was and smack them across the face because this was completely unacceptable for a Harvard graduate. 

I mean, how does one spend well over a hundred thousand dollars and not know the difference between their, there, and they’re? It pisses me off. If Louis ever saw these things before they were edited he’d have a coronary. 

A hand slammed down on my desk. I jumped halfway out of my skin and bit down on the cap of the highlighter, hard enough to have it crack and pinch my tongue. 

“Harvey wanted you instead,” Griffin bit out. His face was twisted and contorted. Obviously pissed. 

Why did he want me? 

I scrambled a little, careful to put all my papers away so we wouldn’t have another incident like I did with my first case. And I made sure to bring it with me this time, basically implanted it in my hand, just to be safe. 

“Mr. Specter, you wanted to see me?” He was looking out the window at the view below. Sometimes it made me lightheaded to think about how high up we were. I’ve never been good with heights. 

“Yes, I did.”

“Can I ask why you called Griffin in first instead of just coming to me?”

Harvey turned around, fussing with his cufflink before sitting down on the corner of his desk. “I just thought you’d like to have the satisfaction of Griffin being turned away.”

I blinked, “Satisfaction? I don’t understand, you did that on purpose?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Harvey’s smirk was evil. 

“Why?” I still didn’t get it. Why bring Griffin in and then tell him ‘sorry, I actually meant the first year, not you’. It seemed kind of pointless when he could’ve just… “Oh…”

“Now you understand?”

“You wanted Griffin to know that he is still not the first choice, and that that first choice is me.” “It has been, and it will continue to be. If he can’t see that, then I’ll make him,” Harvey stood, coming to stand in front of me. Almost too close; we were not in the safety of an empty office, I couldn’t let him get too close.

“Why not just come to the bullpen and do it yourself?”

“Because,” he squared his shoulders, “I wanted to knock him down a peg. When I call someone into my office, or have Donna do it, it means I need them for something. I just wanted Griffin to tell you that I needed you for the sole reason of getting under his skin.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Mr. Specter-” “Harvey.” He corrected. 

I swallowed. “Harvey, I appreciate it. Well, in theory I do, but that is besides the point. Ever since we won-”

“You won,” he corrected again. I see what he’s doing. 

“I won,” I huffed, “ever since, I have had a target on my back. People are whispering about me and I don’t need you to escalate the situation. Especially with someone who already hates me.”

Harvey cast his eyes away from mine. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put unnecessary pressure on your shoulders.”

My lips pressed in a line, arms crossing over my chest. I knew what this would do, what it would look like from outside eyes: that Harvey was doing me a favor. Giving me special treatment. In a way I guess he was, but it was because I earned it. Right? I had earned this? My place by his side as an associate? Not by his side, at his side. I worked with Harvey side-by-side. And you’re goddamn right I earned it. 

Maybe Harvey’s weird Jedi mind tricks are working. As weird as they are. 

“You’ve got that look in your eye,” Harvey spoke softly. 

“What look?” He smiled, “The one where you’re having some internal conflict. Battling it out in your head like Rocky and Apollo, two greats against each other. Claudia, you’re doing great here. And I know you believe it, but you’ve gotta learn to not spiral out of control when something comes up. You can handle it.”

He’s right, Harvey’s always right. Most of the time. 

I followed his eyes to the corner of my mouth. He furrowed his brows, bringing his hand up. His thumb brushed against my skin and I froze. Spine cemented in place. What is he doing? Doesn’t he know how many people could be-

“Just some highlighter,” he reassured. I must’ve missed the cap once or twice. “Have you had a chance to look at the case?”

My brain was half melted. “Sort of, I glanced at it when Donna gave it to me. Seem’s… ballsy.”

“It certainly isn’t gonna be a walk-off,” he sighed. “Which is why I want you to come with me to the meeting with Jay Friddle. He wants to settle with Gustoson.”

“And you don’t want him to?”

“You’re goddamn right I don’t,” Harvey snapped. Not really at me, but at me. I couldn’t help the flinch, and I could see the hurt in his eyes. “Sorry. No, I don’t want him to settle. I think there is some shady shit going on, and I think he’s being framed. I’ve known Jay for five years and I know he didn’t steal their design. Whoever is behind this set him up and made this whole thing look like his fault.”

“When is the meeting?”

“Later today, two-forty.”

“Okay, give me some time to review and do some research on the employees. If he’s being framed, maybe it was an inside job. There could be someone who is from Gustoson’s posing as a loyal employee, or maybe someone cut a deal with them for a pretty penny.”

Harvey gave a firm nod, and I turned to leave. His hand wrapped around my arm and kept me from going. 

“That’s my girl,” he moved a piece of my hair from my forehead. “Always so eager to get to work.”

“Harvey,” I warned. “N-Not here.”

“No one is watching.” “How can you be so sure?” I felt that tingling feeling prick my fingers. The kind of numbness you get when something unexplainable happens and you’re not sure if it’s real. Or when your life flashes before your eyes. 

“Look around?”

I gently turned away from his touch, looking around at the weirdly empty office. All those around were occupied, engaged in conversation and not paying attention. Even Donna was nowhere to be found.   

“I can see that our first… session,” he decided on. His front was pressed close to my back, lips right against the shell of my ear. “Has started to work. You took precedent and responsibility without a second thought. But, you were still wary when I called you in here. I think I need to weed it out of you. Give you something to be in control of.”

A single finger trailed the length of my spine. I could barely breathe. My body, which was not helping me in any way, leaned back into him. 

“How about this, while you’re doing your research, you think of what you want. Of how I can please you, of how you can take control of me. Then whenever we get back, meet me in the file room on the fiftieth floor. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

He was a twisted son of a bitch, that's for sure. 

“Yeah,” I nearly choked on my own tongue when his hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “Yeah I’ll think about it, Harvey.”

“Good girl, Claudia.”

_____

Focus? What was that? How does one simply focus after they’re told they’re gonna have their deepest fantasies lived out in just a few hours? All I could do was think about Harvey between my legs. His fingers wrapped around my neck. 

Of course I knew what I’d ask him to do, but physically saying the words out loud was a whole other thing. That’s what I'm not sure I can do. And I know he’ll make me say it before he’ll even think about giving me what I want.

God damn Harvey Specter. 

At first it had been anxiety that consumed me about him; wondering when he was gonna pop by and request, demanding rather, that I help him with something. But now it was different. I craved him. His mouth on mine, his scent. Harvey always smelled so good. It was calm and didn’t give me a headache like most of them do. Definitely not a cedar or pine or some other woodsy bullshit. Mellow is a great way to put it. 

His hands certainly won’t be mellow when they’re working in and out of- okay Claudia that’s enough. My computer is spinning spinning spinning in circles as I wait for some files to be uploaded. 

When Harvey had me leave his office, not without pressing his obvious need into my ass, I went straight to looking into those employees. About four hours of searching through employee records and cross checking them with ex-employees of Gustosons. Most of them were clean, a few that had a past, but nothing in relation to what we needed. 

That was until I stumbled across one of the hiring managers. His name was Nelson and he seemed like a grade A asshole. He had worked with Gustoson for ten years before leaving and making his way to our client. And he brought over some of the IT department. 

Bingo. 

“Hey Claudia, Harvey wants to know if you’re ready to go for the meeting?” Donna paused by my desk. 

“Yes, I just need to run to the printer and then I will be right in,” I smiled up at her, tucking my file under my arm and grabbing my keys. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

She hummed and waltzed off. If I had been alone in the bullpen I’d one hundred percent be trying to copy her movements. I mean, how was it possible that she moved so smoothly in a pair of stilettos? I could barely walk in a straight line with flats or a wedge. 

Donna was mind blowing. Donna was Donna. 

By the time I made it to the printer, my papers were there and I just skimmed over them just to make sure I wasn’t taking anyone else's. I had done that before; one of the first weeks I had been working here. I sent my papers to a printer three floors below ours and accidentally grabbed another associate’s. I was mortified, but the girl, Kathrine Bennett? Kaitlyn? Something like that, but she was really nice. She had done the same thing once. I think she got fired and was now at a rival firm. A shame, I wish I got the chance to know her. 

This might seem kind of weird, but I oddly loved the feeling of freshly printed paper. It was always kind of warm and had this very light scent. And it was smooth and easy to flip through. One of those things that brings me a little bit of joy in this hellscape. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” I damn near buckled to the floor. Harvey’s voice was right against the back of my neck, and the presence around me suddenly felt all too warm.

“Jesus Harvey,” I chuckled, trying not to let my fingers tremble. “Maybe don’t sneak up behind me like that?” “I said your name, but you obviously didn’t hear me.”

No. I didn’t. But I did feel his hand slip up the back of my thigh. I went motionless. My breath came out in stutters as he dragged it across my ass, up and around my hip, palm flat against the space right below my belly button. Harvey pulled me back into him, his earlier arousal still there. 

Had it gone away at all? Or did he walk in here just now and get another? No, that couldn’t be. I mean, it wasn’t like I was trying to get a reaction out of him or anything. 

“Harvey I-”

“I locked the door.”

That settled me instantly. I let my hand find the back of his head, letting his lips brush over my neck and shoulder. “Seems like you’re the one who couldn’t wait.”

“Not when you look like that, no. I can’t resist you when you taunt me like this. With a skirt this short, those buttons undone a few more than they had been earlier.”

“I was just hot,” I explained. 

“Oh trust me, I know how hot you are.” Harvey must’ve seen my eye roll at his terrible joke. “You’re right, I couldn’t wait until after our meeting. I needed to have something to hold me over.”

His hands crept around to my chest, fingers ever so gentle as they skimmed over my shirt. As if Harvey’s hands commanded my will, there was nothing I could do to keep from sighing out when he pinched my nipples. It forced me to arch back into him. 

“You’re sensitive, aren’t you? That is very good to know. Where else are you so sensitive? Here?” He kissed right below my ear, then nipped at it. Another spine bending shudder. God damn that laugh of his. “What about here, hmm?” He tugged up the edge of my skirt, toying with the waistband of my underwear, letting it snap back against my skin. “Aww, look at how much you want me to touch you. You’re a writhing mess aren’t you?”

“Harvey,” I pleaded. 

“Harvey what?”

That son of a bitch. I knew he was going to do it and yet I still wasn’t prepared. 

“Harvey, we're gonna be late for the meeting.”

“It’s at three.” 

He turned me around, hand on my neck, so fast I almost went dizzy. He backed me up against the wall and had this devious look on his face. Harvey crushed his mouth to mine and wasted no time sweeping his tongue into my mouth.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him. He was such a good kisser, so dominant and reactive to my endless noises. And he was really good at pulling them from me. 

Harvey lifted under my thighs and pushed my skirt back in the same motion, planting me against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist. It was hard to remember what happened next, but he was quick to pluck open a few more buttons of my shirt and pull my bra down.

If I thought his tongue felt good on mine…

I had to put my own hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t make any noise. Well, I did a shit job, but it wasn’t too loud. 

His mouth was hot on my skin, leaving behind small bruises and wet marks. He bit down, and I hissed, and he grinned before letting up. He slowly set me down, not breaking eye contact as he seamlessly fixed my bra and shirt, reshuffling my skirt back to where it was before. 

“If you liked that, just wait till I get my tongue between those legs of yours. And don’t you worry, sweetheart, I promise I will be far less controlled when I taste you for the first time.”

And then he was gone. He left me there. 

I ran my fingers through my hair, schooled my face into the best neutral one I could and followed him out. Not too close, I didn’t need anyone speculating. 

How Harvey managed to keep his face unreadable was unbeknownst to me. It seemed impossible, I’d need a cold shower and at least seventy-two hours notice to get my head back on. But there he was in the lobby. Totally stoic. Totally unphased. Totally not looking like he had his teeth leaving marks on my chest and making wetness pool between my legs. 

“Oh, there she is,” Donna sighed in relief. “We were starting to think you ran away. Get going you two, you’re gonna be late. Go kick their ass in that depo.”

“Seems like that's all Claudia knows how to do,” Harvey said, giving me a wink when Donna walked off after wishing us good luck.

“You really do not know how to keep it in your pants,” I led the way to the elevator. 

“Why would I want to when I have you to take care of it?”

I just stared blankly at him, his grin spreading wider and wider. God damn Harvey Specter. 

When we slid in the backseat of the car, his hand immediately went to my thigh and it was all I could think about. It was so warm, and so deceptively big. Long fingers brushed over my skin, leaving goosebumps behind.

I had a feeling he was doing all of this on purpose, trying to get me riled up for after this meeting. Since I can’t get away from him, especially right now, all I could do was think about what I wanted most from him. 

To see him smirking between my legs while he made me come undone has got to be at the top of the list. I wonder if he’ll like the way I taste. Shit I haven’t shaved in for-fucking-ever. Is he gonna be disgusted? What if he thinks I’m unhygienic for not taking care of it?

I mean… it hasn’t been that long, a month or two? But I wish I would’ve thought about it. It never occurred to me, even after the endless daydreams, that we’d actually continue all of this. Especially to this much. 

By no means was I a virgin, but I haven’t been in a serious relationship in well over a year, so why did I need to keep things neat down there?  I do not do hookups. Never had, never thought I would. But this technically also wasn’t a hookup? 

What the hell would you even call this? 

My mind was rampant at this point. Going in a billion different directions, all delusional thinking. It was irrational. Not true. And I knew that, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about them. I couldn’t steer my mind away from one in particular: did Harvey even think I was attractive? 

It might seem like a silly question when, about twenty minutes ago, he had me moaning his name in the file room. But it still crossed my mind. Maybe he just thought I was naive and easily manipulatable. That he could have me just because he could, you know? 

It made me feel sick to my stomach. 

Why are you torturing yourself, Claudia? Obviously Harvey finds you attractive. He straight up left bruises on your skin with how eager he was to get at your tits, give yourself a little grace for once.

Why was my inner conscience now sounding like Harvey? I never told myself to ‘give a little grace’. He’s getting in my head. Changing the way I think and talk about myself. Then again I guess that was his whole reason for doing this in the first place-

“Hey pretty girl,” Harvey tapped my leg. “What are you thinking about so hard? You’re white-knuckling your seatbelt.”

Pretty girl pretty girl pretty girl…

I broke out into a huge smile. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

_____

My grin was permanently plastered on my face. We absolutely blew their fucking heads off in that depo. They had no idea what hit them.

“And when you threatened to put Nelson on the stand? Ugh, perfection, the look on their face was priceless. I’ll be replaying it all night and into tomorrow. That shit was awesome,” I couldn’t help the giddy squeal I let out either.

Harvey smiled brightly, a fondness to his face that I hadn’t ever seen before when our eyes met in the elevator on the way back to the firm. 

“Now do you see why I like winning so much?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I can definitely see how it gets addicting. That was… wow. That was amazing. You were amazing, we were amazing.”

“...And?” He pressed. I flushed, I couldn’t fucking help it. 

“And I was… amazing.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“You’re one cruel son of a bitch you know that right?” I rolled my eyes. “I was amazing.”

“There you go,” that same fond smile from before showing again. “Now say it again like you actually believe it.”

“I do actually believe it-”

“Say it again.” The smile was gone. 

My throat worked down and I shifted on my feet, clutching my purse in my hands. Just do it and get it over with.

“I did fucking amazing,” I said with a little more umph. It worked, Harvey grinned like the Devil and caught my mouth with his right before the door chimed open. 

“Oh, and before you go and spend all night replaying it over and over, there’s something else I’d like to have you remembering more.”

When I glanced up, I saw that it wasn’t the firm, but the fiftieth floor. The goddamn file room… I had forgotten. How could I have forgotten? I trailed behind him as he led the way, anxiety swirling so violently in my stomach I wasn’t entirely sure that I wasn’t gonna vomit. 

My brain immediately kept trying to think of ways out of it. But my stupid fucking feet kept moving. Why did they keep moving? I didn’t want them to move-

“Claudia, is everything okay? You look… really pale,” Harvey asked once he shut the door and locked it. He looked incredibly concerned, which really only made it worse. “If you don’t want to do this right now we don’t have to.”

“It’s not that,” I shook my head, plastering a smile on my face. Don’t let some god damn hair ruin this, Claudia. You’re gonna be fine. Deep breaths. “Well?”

“Well… what?” He took a step closer, taking my purse from me and setting it on a cabinet. 

“Aren’t you going to ask what I’ve been thinking about? What I’ve been wanting all day?”

“Oh I already know,” he said. “I just want to see if you’re going to tell me or not.”

Touche.

“I don’t need to ask you,” I felt my anxiety melt away, and that surge of power rush in my veins. The same way it did Harvey and I’s first night. “You said you wanted to please me, and if you already know what I want, why aren’t you already between my legs giving it to me?”

His hand on my neck was the only validation he gave me before lifting me up onto a counter, or a cabinet, I didn’t really care.

Wow I can’t believe that actually worked. We’re getting the hang of this, bitch. Keep it up.

Harvey’s tongue tangled with mine, pulling strings of pleas and moans from me. He unbuttoned my shirt yet again, adding to the marks he left earlier. I laid down; thankfully whatever I was on was long enough. Being tall has its perks for sure, but doesn’t necessarily work for these particular scenarios. 

As he bent over me, I let my shoes slide off, wrapping a leg around his hip so my front melted with his. I ground against him, and he wasn’t shy about what it did to him. He pushed back, hand palming at my chest, the other pinning my other thigh to the surface. 

It was so hard to breathe with him over me. But in the most pleasurable way possible. An intoxing sort of suffocation of having his mouth on mine, his chest pressed close, his very obvious arousal doing wonders for my own. 

The second his hands began to push up my skirt, those thoughts came with it. I felt the panic rise in my chest, and the confidence I had built up crumbled to the floor. 

“H-Harvey-”

“Yes, sweetheart?” His voice was sickly sweet and it almost made all those thoughts go away. 

“I umm- I just don’t want you to be- I haven’t… god I am so sorry.”

“You’ve never had someone go down on you?” Harvey asked, eyes wide. “Who the hell have you been with in the past cause they were obviously assholes and I’ll-”

“No no Harvey,” I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what, Claudia.”

“Nothing nothing, it’s fine, just go back to-”

“Not until you tell me everything's okay. Just tell me, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his voice was so tender. And his eyes, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that they were loving in a way. But that was most certainly an irrational thought. 

I blushed, so much felt it go down my neck and light up my chest. 

“Claudia-” “I haven’t shaved,” I blurted out. “I didn’t know this was happening and if I did I would’ve cleaned up for you so if you don’t want to I understand and we can do this another time but I don’t want you to be disappointed and grossed out and-” I actually yelped. He forced my skirt off, pulling off my stockings and tossing them over his shoulder. Then slid my underwear down my legs, not before he made fun of the little pink bow that was on the front. 

He splayed my legs wide, throwing one over his shoulder, pinning the other down. The first touch of his tongue nearly made me tear up. His mouth was so hot. So warm and it felt so good as it curved in and out of me. 

Bliss. Pure, raw, satisfying bliss encased me. I jolted when he flicked over my clit, sending a very much welcome tremble down my spine. I arched up and couldn’t help but grind against his face.

Harveys nails left dents in my skin. I hoped that they would bruise. He was not shy about how good I tasted. He had such a filthy way of describing what I did to him, and he knew that every word would get an even more filthy noise from my chest. 

I could see my wetness smeared on his cheeks; I was a mess since the car on the way to the meeting. Which was well over two hours ago now. It made everything feel that much better. 

Harvey took my leg off his shoulder, pushing it flat to the counter. He then took my chest between his fingers, definitely not careful with how hard he pinched and pulled. My legs quivered, clamping against his head, only for him to force them back down. 

“Keep them there,” he stood, wrapping his palm across my throat. “I’m gonna make you cum on my tongue, but you’re not going to do it until I say, understand?”

“Yes, Harvey.” I thought about calling him sir, but I wasn’t sure what it would do. I really really really wanted to know, but it was more than likely something we should save for the privacy outside of the office because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my screams at bay.

I could barely do it right now. 

He brought me in for a possessive kiss before laying me back down and settling between my legs. His fingers scratched and marked the insides of my thighs. I could feel my release building, and how on earth he knew I’ll never know, but every time I got relatively close, he slowed down, sending me right back to the start. It was infuriating, and I almost said something, but then he kept going. 

And kept going and going and going-

“Harvey,” I sighed, breathless and airy. I had to bite on my fingers to keep from making too much noise. Again, I was doing a really shit job. 

“Not yet,” he ordered. “Harvey I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, sweetheart. And you will because you love doing what I tell you, don’t you? You love being on display for me while I have my way with you.” I did. “You don’t even need to say it, I can taste how much you want it. Such a good girl for me, now be good and take it just a little longer and I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

I had no doubt that he would, so I nodded. I bit my lip and nodded. His smirk was devastating as he swiped his thumb through my folds and pressed it to my lips. I sucked urgently, showing him just how good I wanted to be. 

Something changed in his eyes then. It wasn’t just dominance that resonated behind his shaded eyes. It was a look of possession, of ownership. There was definitely a whole other side to Harvey I hadn’t seen yet, but I’d be damned if I didn’t do anything to see it. 

So I placed my foot on his shoulder and pushed until he knelt back on the ground. His grin was wild, purely animalistic and feral in a way. 

Harvey Specter, aka the best damn attorney in the state of New York just knelt to the ground because you told him to. This man is bent to your will, you can make him do anything.

He resumed his mostions, taking the time to mark my thighs even more. I couldn’t think straight anymore. I don’t know how long it's been since we started, but I was quivering, begging for a release. It was right there, so close and so far away at the same time but if I could just get a little more…

“You taste so fucking good, Claudia. I want you to cum on my tongue and don’t you dare be fucking shy with those pretty little noises of yours. I want to know exactly how my tongue is making you feel, just how good you feel. You want to be good, don’t you?”

I nodded rapidly, saying just as much. “Yes, Harvey, yes I want to be good for you.”

“You’re learning so well,” he looked like he was in a daze. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Be my good girl and give me what I want. I know just how much you need it.”

It came so fast it caught me off guard. His fingers… his tongue… it was otherworldly. I haven’t ever felt this euphoric. I kept my noises down, but my breath was out of control, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth. 

Harvey didn’t let up even with my release, he kept going going going even well after I began to settle back down. I tried to get him to let up; I couldn’t speak so I pushed against his shoulder but he pinned my ankle down.

He wasn’t done with me. 

He licked me dry, gently kissing my skin when he was done. Sweat lined my hair and back, but he was done. And I was limp and thoroughly worked over. 

“I knew you could be good,” he cooed. His hand brushed over my exposed chest, toying with me a little before helping me sit up. He carefully helped dress me again, letting my head come back before kissing me again. Not only did he taste like me, he smelled like it too. 

But his kiss was soft. Softer than it had been before. 

“Feel alright?” he asked, and all I could do was nod. He chuckled, motioning for me to hop down. Harvey’s hand steadied me as he picked up a foot and placed my shoe one, doing the same for the other. This… fizzy feeling bubbled in my chest as I watched him. 

It made me smile uncontrollably. 

“What are you so smiley about?” He asked, welcoming me when I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. 

“Nothing,” I sighed, a content sigh and let my chest rest against his, chin on his shoulder. “I just feel… nice. Really really nice.”

Harvey laughed, “Well I’m glad you feel really really nice. You tasted really really good.”

I swatted at his chest. When we were this close, it was easy to forget all the complex things about our situation: the fact that he was my boss, or how much older he was than me. That he just ate me out like a god in our file room after a huge step in our case. There were so many risks in all of this, but right here none of them seemed that big. A swirling thought in the back of my head wouldn’t let them go, but they could be tamed in this moment.

“Oh, don’t you ever feel embarrassed about not being ‘cleaned up’ for me. I don’t care. Getting to be between your legs is an experience I am beyond privileged to get. You don’t ever have to worry about me being disgusted by you or your body. It’ll never happen, never gonna be possible, Claudia.”

For a long time, I had always thought that Harvey was kind of a dick. They he never gave a shit about anyone other than himself and his reputation. Clearly that wasn’t the case. He, very obviously, cared a whole hell of a lot more than I thought. 

Clearly Harvey cared for me beyond the idea of our sexual desires. I genuinely believe that he wants me to have more confidence in myself. This is just killing two birds with one stone. And I certainly didn’t mind having Harvey Specter between my legs.

“Would you like to-”

“Oh, Harvey what are you- oh, hi Claudia. What are you guys doing in here?” Louis asked. I instantly detached myself from Harvey and took a huge step back. “Is everything alright? Claudia you look really flushed, are you not feeling well? Do you need to go home?”

“No, no Louis I’m alright,” I could feel my skin ignite. “We were just… looking for old files for our case. I just needed a hug. Stress is a bitch.”

How did you manage to pull that outta your ass? 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. I give the best hugs on earth. Get over here,” Louis insisted. 

“Thank you Louis, but I’m-”

“It’s non negotiable,” he nodded. “Come on, bring it in my dazzling little friend.”

I looked at Harvey who was clearly trying not to burst out in hysterical laughter. I hugged Louis, and it was surprisingly good. Not as good as Harvey, but then again maybe I was just a bit biased. 

“You know my door is always open to you, Claudia,” Louis reassured before he grabbed a box, the one right where I had just been laid out, and practically skipped away. 

When the door shut, I covered my face and Harvey nearly fell over. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I wanted to evaporate and never be seen again. There was no way that Louis just… I appreciated his complete obliviousness. More so than ever.

“Okay, that might’ve been more entertaining than sticking it to Gustoson.”

“Not a word, Specter,” I warned. 

“Specter, huh? Well, Martin, you’re lucky I’m in such a good mood because I would really love to go tell Donna about this little interaction.”

My heart sank. “Does she know?”

“No,” my heart began to beat again. “Which baffles me. You are really terrible at wearing your emotions on your face, by the way."

“I don’t understand how you can be so calm, it makes no sense. My brain scrambles and my mouth disconnects from it. I couldn’t believe I managed to spit out something coherent when Louis walked in.”

“It’s cute watching you stutter.”

I blushed.

“That's cute, too.”

“Shut up.” Harvey smiled. “Would you teach me? How to have some sort of a poker face?”

“You want me to?” I nodded, and he looked off behind me, obviously thinking of something. “Okay, stay after everyone has gone home tomorrow, I have an idea.”

“Uh oh, don’t hurt yourself.” He grabbed my arm, laying a firm hand on my ass. I yelped at the smack, eyes going wide.

“Wanna try that again?”

“If we weren’t in an un-sound-proofed office I’d say yes.” That didn’t stop him from doing it again, only this time spinning me around and pushing me down on the counter, fisting my hair and yanking hard enough to bring a tear to my eye. 

“Two strikes, Caudia. Be careful how you read the next pitch.” I really wanted to make an awful sports joke, but I didn’t need to risk someone else walking in and seeing this. There would be no way to explain around it. 

I’d have to move to Antarctica and become a penguin. 

“Okay okay,” I mumbled out. He released me and I turned around. Not without feeling how hard he was. I pulsed between my legs again. Man, did I want to feel that between my legs. I already had a good idea of what he looked like, and god damn did I want it. 

“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Harvey said, playing with my hair. “Try not to think of me too much, my Claudia.”

My Claudia…

My mouth was dry. “You know I will.”

“Of course you will,” he winked before turning.

I was certainly not going to let him have the last laugh. 

I’d wait a couple hours and then attack. I had a plan, surely one he’d never see coming. It was almost six now and I couldn’t think of anything work related. Just Harvey. I had that sore, sweet burn of an overstimulated release still, and couldn’t feel more content.

But I wasn’t satisfied by any means. 

I waited a little longer before printing out the transcription from our depo to go over. Yes, we had boxed Gustoson in and backed him into a corner, but like Harvey always said, when there was a gun pointed to your head there were seventy-five other ways out. We had to be prepared for every single one. 

When I picked them up, I swung by Donna’s desk.

“Hey hot shot,” she cheered. “Heard about the depo, you really are one hell of a lawyer, aren’t you?”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just awesome at what I do,” I beamed. “Do you know where Harvey went? He wanted to go over it so we can get a clear idea of what their next move will be. I think they’re all out of cards to deal, but you never know.”

“Harvey really is rubbing off on you,” she looked me head to toe. Hide the face, hide the face. “Did something happen between you two? You’re like- glowing.”

Shit shit shit shit shit-

“No- well, no not really.”

“What do you mean ‘not really’?” She joined me on the other side of her desk. “Claudia, did he yell at you cause if he did I can-”

“No no, Donna. Everythings fine, more than fine actually. I am just… starting to feel more comfortable around him, is all. I don’t feel so nervous to be around him.”

“That’s fantastic,” Donna smiled, bringing me in for a hug. I prayed she didn’t feel my sweat back. “Good for you, Claudia. I knew it would happen sooner or later. I know he can be a hardass, but there is a method to his madness.”

“You don’t say,” she had no fucking idea. This was great. “Let me find him, I’ll be back before you leave to let you know how the depo really went.”

She just raised her eyebrows before I walked away.

Time for some real fun.

I pushed open the bathroom door, someone on their way out giving me a weird look. Harvey was at the sink washing his hands when he saw me.

“Claudia, what are you-”

I looked under the stalls and thankfully no one was in here. I locked the door. As I planted myself in front of him, I spoke so coolly it didn’t even sound like my voice. “You didn’t think I could leave you high and dry, did you? What kind of good girl would I be if I didn’t return the favor.”

“Claudia, sweetheart you don’t have to-”

“I want to. And I’m going to.”

I slipped to my knees, my eyes never leaving his. Even as I popped open the button of his trousers and untucked his shirt. They fell to his ankles and I let his briefs join them. He was hard and waiting for me so I didn’t waste time to build the confidence.

It was already there. 

Harvey braced against the sink when my tongue ran up the backside of his shaft, slowly starting to take him into my mouth. I worked it all the way in, earning a deep, guttural noise from him. 

“Jesus fucking… Claudia…”

I felt a rush of pride run through me at the thought of him not even being able to speak. It only motivated me that much more. 

I worked up and down, pausing every now and then to focus on the tip, ever so gently letting my teeth graze for a little extra pleasure. I wasn’t sure if he was going to like it, but he shivered. And when I did it again, he did it again. He was under my control.

I couldn’t help the spit that collected and fell down my chin, or the tears that fell from my eyes and smeared some of my mascara. I knew he didn’t mind because when he looked down, he swore and bucked his hips.

“God you look so hot stuffed full of my cock,” he put his hand on my head and pushed me all the way down. “And you know how to take it all the way, I didn’t even have to teach you. Such a good fucking girl, Claudia. If your throat feels this good I can’t fucking wait to be inside that pretty pink pussy of yours. I know it’ll be a tight fit but you’ll take it like such a good girl won’t you?”

I nodded, humming around him as he began to fuck my mouth. 

“Yeah, you love this, don’t you? Being full of my cock. I just know you were dying to taste it, huh? Go on then, open really fucking wide for me.”

His hips were brutal, pushing more tears out with every thrust. Harvey let the praises and moans fall from his mouth like the sweetest candy. I had to brace my hands on his thighs so he wouldn’t break my nose. That’s how hard he was going. 

“Gonna cum, sweetheart. You're gonna take it all down, aren’t you? Just wait until I get you on your hands and knees so I can fill you up and have you begging for it.”

I couldn’t help the whine that came out. Granted it was broken up by his thrusts, but that somehow made it dirtier. 

Harvey released, stilling his hips, pushing deep until his body lay flush with my face. He pulled out, cum coating his skin. I was more than happy to clean it off for him. 

“Awww look at you, Claudia. Being such a sweet girl and cleaning me up. God you are such a funcking slut for me. Show me.”

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, presenting it to him. Again, that dark, feral look was in his eyes. He grabbed me by my neck and pulled me to my feet. His eyes never left my tongue.

“Swallow.”

I did. Harvey’s laugh was cruel. His thumb was pressed right up against my esophagus, and I knew he felt it go down.

“I am going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, Claudia. I am going to take you apart and put you back together over and over again until all you’ll know is my name and how to breathe.”

I clenched my legs together, already feeling my desire come back. He let go and I bent to put him back together this time. When I put the button back through the slit, I made sure to keep my eyes on him. I gave a pat to his chest before turning for the door.

Before I left, I looked over my shoulder, swiping my thumb across the corner of my mouth to get a remaining drop of him. I dragged it over my tongue, giving my own devastating wink before leaving him alone.

_____

There were plenty of ways I could’ve spent the next twenty-four hours. Were any of them productive? Absolutely not. No matter how much water or tea I drank, I could still taste him on my tongue, and it only made me that much more distracted every time I remembered it.

I loved it when he told me how good I felt. 

Not only was Harvey incredibly good at being a lawyer, he was very diligent with his body. So responsive to every touch and noise I made. He made doing all of this feel not so intimidating.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I did feel like it was working. never in a million years would I have the balls to initiate an intimate moment with him, let alone any type of moment.

His madness was working. A little too well.

What he had planned next was beyond me. Apparently he went out for the day, according to Donna, who also told me he cleared the rest of his schedule for the night and asked if I knew anything about it. I felt bad lying to her, but I didn’t really know what else to do. She couldn’t know yet, I needed to wait. 

But when she came to check on me, eyes a little bloodshot from staring at this damn computer all day, she wished me good luck tonight and headed home. She hoped that Harvey wouldn’t run me into the ground.

I knew we weren’t going to get any work done. 

And I was so excited. 

I waited. And waited. And waited for Harvey to come find me. Maybe he was still out? I had no idea. I was about to call him when he walked into the bullpen.

“Oh, hey I was just looking for you.”

“Good,” the corners of his mouth curled up. “Come on, let's go to my office.”

I was more than eager to follow. When I got there, there was a bag on the corner of his desk, a note pad and a pen. “What’s all this?” “You asked me to help you with keeping your face unfazed. Well, I’m gonna help you. You’re going to sit in my lap while I’m inside you and we’re going to sit on this conference call with one of my clients in California. You’re gonna learn how to keep your voice steady while taking notes for me or everyone's gonna know what we’re doing. Are we clear?”

My whole world was tilted on its axes. This could go wrong on so many levels. My mouth voided any saliva and I couldn't process this idea.

“Harvey is this really a good idea when-” “You always do this, Claudia. We do something, you question it, and then you realize afterwards that I was right. When are you going to start trusting my ideas and just do what I say?”

I just rolled my eyes, “Fine. You’re right, and I do trust you."

“Of course I am, I’m Harvey Specter.” I really wanted to smack him, but he moved away before I could. He opened the bag and pulled out three boxes of condoms. “I wasn’t sure which kind you preferred so I grabbed a few options.”

That was, weirdly enough, one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. I know, it seems kind of lame, but it was incredibly thoughtful. I read the back of the boxes, settling on one and putting the others back in the bag. 

Everything’s gonna be fine, Claudia. He’s right, he knows what he’s doing. We’ve got this, just breathe and everything is gonna go great… holy shit you’re about to fuck Harvey. This is really about to fucking happen holy fucking fuck-

His presence in front of me took my rushing thoughts away. I smiled up at him before kissing him a few times. No turning back now. 

We didn’t dare fully undress, but I slipped down my bottoms and hiked up my skirt, Harvey doing more or less the same. Harvey brought my back to his front and gently swept my hair over my shoulders to help soothe me. I was shaking a little. 

“Relax, sweetheart. You’re gonna feel so good, I promise you.” Chills. All over my body. 

I eased down onto him, with his help, and settled into his lap. It burned and stretched so well. It took a good few steady breaths to adjust and let myself loosen up. 

“Good girl, Claudia,” he praised, that sickly sweet tone back once again. “That’s it, just lean back and let me do the rest.”

Harvey trailed his hands over my thighs, pulling my knees open so they fell over his own. I sighed out when his finger dragged around where we connected and up up up to where I was still so sensitive. I jolted, and he turned his face into my neck.

“Ready?” He asked, and I nodded. He dialed a number on the phone and it rang a few times before a voice came through the other line. “Brian Fergison, how is the West Coast treating you?” “Oh it’s a dream, Harvey. An absolute dream, you gotta come out here one of these days,” Brian said enthusiastically. “I have my insurance broker, CEO, accountant and consultant on here as well. Thomas, Daniel, Michael and Henry.”

A collection of hello’s and hey’s came through. “Nice to speak with you gentlemen. I have my personal associate, Claudia with me here. She’s been helping me out on a few cases recently and I thought I’d show her more of the big leagues.”

“It’s a pleasure to have you, Claudia. If you’re Harvey’s personal associate, you must be one hell of a lawyer,” Brian boasted and I could feel my flush. 

“Lets just say that I can give one hell of a nasty cross examination,” I said, voice calm and collected despite Harvey's fingers between my legs. “Most first years don’t get an opportunity like this so I appreciate it.”

“Wow, Harvey, where do you keep finding all these kick ass young stars?” “Harvard,” I answered for him, earning an array of laughs through the phone. I looked over at Harvey who had a devious grin plastered on his face. He thrusted up particularly hard, almost making me gasp out loud.

So that's how it's going to be?

I clenched hard, making him flinch. He dug in his nails as a warning. I listened.

“Alright, let’s get to the business at hand. I was hoping we could all discuss what is at stake for my company with the new rules and regulations…”

The conversation faded out for me. I half paid attention to what they were saying, but focused mostly on Harvey. And these stupid notes he had me taking. It was a steady pace, not fast at all, leisurely. He hit deep inside me, and it was incredibly difficult to not make any noise. I did my best to keep my face neutral, even though we weren’t on camera or anything. 

His hands crept up my shirt and played with my chest, making it even harder. I throbbed around him, hissing slightly. His grip shifted my hips, rocking me back and forth to grind even deeper. 

My wetness stuck to him and made noises I thought only we could hear.

“Is someone eating or something? What is that noise?” Brian asked. I went frozen, but Harvey pinched my nipple again as if to say ‘go on, answer him’.

“Sorry, Brian,” I responded, voice still together. “Harvey is a bit of a hardass and hasn’t let me have a break all day to eat. I’ll put us on mute and we can chime in if need be.”

“All good, and make sure Harvey hears that he needs to take it easy on you over there. Give that poor girl some time to breathe, man.”

“Don’t worry, Brian, she can handle that and a whole lot more.” Even I could hear the grin in Harvey's voice. I reached around me and hit the mute button, then sat up so abruptly I nearly smacked into the table. He placed one hand on the center of my back, holding me there, the other fisting my hair and pulling. Hard.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?” “And if I am?” I said, my breath stilling in my chest. 

“This is not how this call is going to go. It’s forty minutes long, so I hope you’re ready for that. Be careful how you speak about me because I can make this really fun for me and miserable for you.”

“I thought this was your idea in the first place,” I wasn’t going to be bullied by him. I wasn’t afraid when we were like this. “Bring it on.”

We were up so fast and I was chest down on the desk. Bent over me, cock still shoved all the way in, he whispered, “I am gonna take that phone off of mute, and when I do, you’re gonna say you’re going to the bathroom and I am gonna fuck those bratty words right out of your head. If you make one fucking sound I will make you cum. And if you make a sound when you do, I’ll do it again and again until you learn.”

My toes barely touched the floor. Harvey hit the button and nodded for me to speak. I waited a moment until there was a lull in the conversation. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t rip on Harvey without me.”

“You got it, Claudia, I’ll save all his embarrassing college stories for the end.” I was going to get it for sure after that comment.

Harvey started a more than brutal pace. Thankfully I was adjusted to him so it wasn’t as bad, but with the force of his thrusts… gods help me. 

I bit down on my lip, fingers clenching the edge of the desk as he rammed into me. It was so hard to keep from crying out, to keep my knees from hitting the desk. 

“Harvey, I was wondering if there was anything I needed to do to get my patent’s turned over? Or if there is something extra I need to get to make them usable in California?” I knew Harvey spoke, but I didn’t understand. I was far too focused on him pulsing in and out and in and out of me to care. It felt so fucking good. With one particularly hard push of his hips, the whole desk shifted and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. 

Then my hand was gone. His hand was big enough to wrap around both of my wrists and force them behind my back. 

God fucking dammit-

“Is Claudia back? I had a question for her,” Henry, the consultant, asked. Shit shit shit shit shit.

“Yeah she just walked back in,” Harvey said, dragging me back into his lap as he sat, fingers immediately playing with my exposed chest. 

“Hey, what did you want to ask?” Still ice cold. 

“I was just wondering what your thoughts were on the idea of handling a personal case for me. My lawyer just retired and obviously you seem more than qualified, even if you are a first year associate.”

I was genuinely shocked. “Oh, sure. I’ll get your number and email at the end and I’ll make sure to reach out about the details.”

“Sounds good,” he said, switching to ask Harvey something. A brush of his finger between my legs told me I did a good job. 

Soon enough, we were back on mute while Brian took a moment to get his kids settled for bed. Harvey was quick to start talking.

“Look at you, taking me so good. I wasn’t sure how well I’d fit but you’re just such a good girl, Claudia. I bet you love this, being split open while others are just one moan away from knowing what I’m doing to you.”

“I can’t take it much longer,” my voice was trembling. 

“You’re gonna take it as long as I say. We’re over halfway, my pretty little toy. You can stay seated on my dick for a little while, can’t you?” I nodded, my brains almost gone. “See, still such a desire to please me. I think you’ve earned a little reward, no?”

His fingers circled around my clit, sending waves of pleasure and hurt through my body. I let the noises built up in my chest slip through, trying to shift away from his touch when it became too much. 

“I will put you back on that desk and tie your hands behind your back if you don’t stop moving. Sit here, be still, and take my cock like you should. Do not make me tell you again.”

I shut my mouth quickly, occupying my hands in his hair. With one hand between my legs, the other on my throat, his lips trailed over my neck. I did my absolute best not to move, but it wasn’t easy. I writhed and whined and begged for him to let me reach my high. 

“You wanna cum on my cock? Is that what you want? Go on then, make a mess all over me.”

It wasn’t even pleasurable at this point. It hurt in the most amazing way possible, but I was to the point of numbness. He quickly hit the unmute button and I bit my lip so hard I knew it’d bruise. He drew lazy circles through my slick and I was on the verge of tears.

Guess he wasn’t kidding when he said he’d break me down and build me back up over and over again.

Harvey’s hand came and clamped over my mouth when I shuddered around him. His whole body tensed and clung to me, forcing me to still even though I wanted to fall onto the floor with the strength of my release. 

Stars danced the backs of my eyelids. My voice would be rubbed raw tomorrow for sure. I’d be more sore than I had ever been. 

My chest rose and fell quickly as I came down from my high, legs and arms tingling. I don’t think I made any noise, if I did, they’d surely know and we’d be in some deep shit. But when I looked at the phone, they were still carrying on with their conversation. 

“I’m thinking of having a company party. And Harvey I’d be thrilled if you could make it out, even bring Claudia if you want. I’m sure Henry would love to meet her, as would I,” Brian spoke.

“That sounds good, Brian,” Harvey’s voice was thick, very clearly too turned on for his own good. 

“I’d be honored to come out,” I said, voice wavering just a tad. “When are you thinking of having it?”

“Not until we get everything squared away on the legal side of things. Then I’ll worry about all that stuff,” he gave a big sigh. “Man there is a lot that comes with running a business.”

We all have a laugh, Harvey starting up my hips again. I didn’t even feel it, couldn’t rather. He was content using me to get off and I was content to let him. I stayed quiet, using my legs to push up and down, rock back and forth, anything I could think of to make him miserable. 

His fingers were locked onto my sides, thrusting up into my down strokes. The noise was minimal, but still sounded around us. Hopefully just us. 

I felt his teeth lock onto the back of my shoulder and yelped. 

“You alright, Claudia?” Brian asked. 

Yeah it’s just Harvey fucking bit me, I almost said. “Yup, just stabbed myself with my pen.” Nice cover, idiot. 

Harvey let up then, kissing over the indentations. His hips stuttered, and his breath was hot and fast on the back of my neck. I leaned forward and hit the mute button. 

“You close?” I got a grumbled string of pleas. “Come on Harvey, you know how much you’ve been waiting for this, don’t be shy now. I want it, sir-”

The words weren’t even out of my mouth before I was gagging on his fingers. I struggled to breathe, eyes watering with the force of it. He fucked up into me so hard I had to brace on the desk and the chair. A noise tore from his chest, so deep it sent goosebumps scattering across my body. His hips were flush with mine, his hands forcing my hips flat, taking taking taking all of him at once. 

“Say it again, Claudia,” he commanded. 

“S-Sir?” I hadn’t even realized I said it. Now or never, I guess.

“Fuck,” he swore. Harvey pulled me off his lap and stood, dragging me over to the window. Don’t look down don’t look down- “Want it, sweetheart? You want my cum, huh?”

“Yes sir,” my voice was barely there. I gasped when he lifted me into the air, pressing my back to the window. Holy shit I hope this fucking glass doesn’t break.

Harvey damn near made me see stars when his hand wrapped around my throat. Between that and his tongue on mine, his cock shoved all the way in, so deep it was painful, I was in the most glorious twilight state I’ve ever been. 

He had his way with me, brutal and erotic and of pure primal instinct. It was clear he didn’t give a shit about if he was hurting me or not. He wanted one thing. And I was gonna let him have it. 

The release caught us both off guard, nearly sending us both to the ground. I clawed up his back and his fingers tightened on my neck. His hips were flush with mine again, jerking in and out at random convulsions. His forehead was damp against my chest.

When he eased me down, my legs were shaking so bad I couldn’t stand. I tripped over my feet trying to sit down. Harvey was far steadier, handing me a bottle of water from a drawer in his desk. While I sipped, he tucked himself back into his pants, and we gave our final goodbyes and email exchanges to Brian’s team. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes after the call ended that we looked at each other. 

“You uhh… you alright?” He asked. 

I was a little stunned, did he just stutter? “Oh, yeah Harvey I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah yeah I’m good.”

“Good.”

Silence. I tapped my thumbs on the plastic bottle, combing my fingers through my hair. Our eyes met again and we both broke out into wild smiles. 

“So 'sir' really does it for you?”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to hear you say that,” he looked mildly embarrassed. “It just- it’s a power move, for sure.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He shrugged, “I am far less forgiving when I am in that state of mine. I am not nice and don’t necessarily give a-”

“Harvey,” I stopped him, standing. I took his outstretched hand and let his hands land back on my hips. “If it was too much, I would’ve told you. And besides, I’ve been dying to see that side of you ever since you first mentioned it.”

“You have?”

I nodded, humming and nodding my head. “Just like you I have my secrets. One of those is my undying desire to please. I’d find a way to get it one way or another.”

His smile was devastating. He swooped down to pick me up in his arms and gently spun me around. “God Claudia you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear someone say that.”

My heart clenched and my stomach dropped at the same time. I didn’t want to read too far into his words but how could I not when he said things like that and placed gentle kisses along my collar bone? 

We grabbed our belongings and headed for the elevator, it was well past eleven now and we both wanted to go home. Harvey insisted he drop me off, and I wasn’t in the position to say no. my feet were killing me, and so was pretty much every other inch of my body. 

The car was warm despite the bitter February wind. The city lights were as bright as ever as we raced down the street, just a couple of city blocks, to my apartment. 

It took every bit of my willpower to not ask him to stay over. That wasn’t part of the deal, I kept telling myself. He wasn’t obligated to comfort me afterwards. And I wasn’t obligated to do the same. 

“Have a good night, Claudia,” Harvey said, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

It was really fucking hard to not melt into him.

“Good night, Harvey.”

______

The next day I didn’t see Harvey at all. When I asked Donna where he was she said he had to take a trip upstate to see his family. I didn’t want to pry, it certainly wasn’t my business, and if he wanted to tell me he would. 

But I got concerned when I didn’t see him the rest of the week. Well, I saw him, just could never catch him at the right time. He stops by my cubicle for two seconds, dumps a stack of papers and says ‘have these organized and on my desk ready to go for tomorrow’, and then disappears. 

What in the hell was going on? “Donna, I really need to talk to Harvey,” I stood my ground. He was in his office, sitting at his desk, the desk that held more than a few intimate memories.

“Claudia, now is really not a good time,” she insisted. I rolled my eyes, huffing and turning away. I’ll catch him before he leaves.

I didn’t catch him before he left. Or when he showed up the next day, or the next. A goddamn week went by and I could barely get two words in. I was getting a little pissed off. And of course my mind had been running rampant with anxious thoughts: he got what he wanted, now he didn’t need you anymore; he was just using you to get the job done and he’ll move on to the next associate. And in big bold letters: Harvey fucking used you.

I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, pricking my nose and burning my throat. 

I can’t take this torture any longer. I need to find him. Now.

I marched right past Donna and into Harvey’s office. I did have our complete case file in hand as an excuse, but I wasn’t really planning on talking about the case. My brain was on fucking fire at this point, I didn’t know what I was going to say, if anything at all, or if I was just going to break down like a pathetic little girl who couldn’t take it.

“Claudia, now is really not a good-” “It never seems to be a good time, Harvey,” I cut him off, watching his mouth snap shut at my harsh tone. “I have been trying to get this to you for four days now, you gonna take the five minutes it takes to go over it or do I need to FedEx it to your apartment so you can get to it in two to three business days?”

His eyes were wide. He stood up from his desk and took the file, but set it on the table. 

“Harvey just take one fucking look at it-”

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice calm and steady.

“You’re sorry? For what, ignoring me the past week?”

“Claudia I wasn’t-”

“Are you sure because it seems like ever since after that conference call you’ve been actively avoiding me like a fucking disease. I-I-I don’t understand what I did, Harvey. Was I not good enough for you? Did I make too much noise or-or did I say something wrong when you dropped me off?”

“No, Claudia I have just been-” “Using me? Leveraging me to climb the corporate ladder?”

“How dare you accuse me of that bullshit,” Harvey bit out, a venom laced in his words. “I can’t believe this, after everything I’ve been trying to help you with, you’re gonna look me in the eyes and say I’m using you?”

“It sure seems like it to me because I can’t think of another goddamn reason why you would go through all that trouble just to practically ghost me.”

“I have been trying to tell you that I’m not avoiding you, but you cannot take down your alligator filled moat for two fucking seconds to let me explain what the hell I’ve been doing.” 

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Donna shouted over both of us. I snapped towards her, flushing a deep shade of red. 

“Nothing, Donna,” Harvey pressed his lips in a flat line. “We don’t need you to intervene-” “Well it sure as hell sounds like you do,” she came and stood at my side. “What’s going on?” “I was just trying to tell Claudia that I haven’t been avoiding her, that I have been busy being a goddamn name partner and trying to keep this firm above water. In fact, I’ve wanted nothing more than to just put everything else on pause and actually get to sit down for half an hour and discuss what we’re gonna do in court because I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, Claudia, but we are in some deep shit with this Gustoson case.”

“Which is why I have been doing everything in my power to hunt you down and give you that file.”

All eyes landed on it, it’s tan envelope. Harvey flipped it open and scanned the document.

He ripped it up and threw it in the trash. 

I stopped moving, I stopped breathing. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, Claudia?” 

“Harvey,” Donna was baffled at his tone. 

“You seriously want to file a motion to dismiss? In what way would that benefit us? Cause it seems like all you want to do is throw this case away and let Gustoson win.”

“No, I want to get their lawyer off the case so that way we can go after him, because he’s in on it and-” “We have no proof of that.” I wanted to rip out my fucking hair. “I was working on getting it.”

“Claudia, we don’t have time for you to just stumble upon evidence and hope it works,” Harvey let his hands slap against his thighs, eyebrows knitted together. “I needed an idea last night, and since you clearly can’t get the job done, maybe it’s you who should be thrown off the case because you clearly have no idea what the hell it is that you’re doing.”

There was nothing I could do to keep the tears from burning tracks in my skin. He promised… Harvey promised…

“Okay, let’s just take this down a few notches,” Donna stood between us.

“No,” Harvey shook his head. “Claudia, you’re going to learn real fast that just because you’re my associate, that doesn’t mean you get your ass kissed. I am not gonna sit here and baby you on every case. If you can’t come up with a different idea by the end of the day, I’m gonna put Griffin on this case and you’ll never get the chance to work with me ever again. I don’t lose, and I’m sure as hell not gonna risk that just because you don’t know how to do your goddamn job.”

All I could do was stare at him. Stare and stare and stare. 

My hands didn’t even shake. My breath didn’t pick up, and my tears didn’t fall. I was utterly tranquill, like a certain part of me was expecting this to happen, and here it was. Served to me on a silver platter. 

I hiccuped a sob. It hit me out of nowhere. I couldn’t do anything to control it. 

“You promised…” I wasn’t even sure I actually spoke the words, I may have just mouthed them, be he understood. I watched him snap out of his heated daze and take a jarring step back. But I wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to give a fake apology.

His intentions, from the very beginning, were blindingly clear. Harvey didn’t want to work with me, he didn’t think I was a good lawyer, he just wanted to get in my pants. 

I was disgusted by him, my stomach churned and I knew I was going to vomit. 

“Claudia-” Harvey gasped, like had been punched in the stomach; I wished it was Donna who socked him.

“You’ve done enough,” she said, and placed her hands on my shoulders. She steered me out of his office and my vision blurred. 

I was one sorry son of a bitch to believe that Harvey actually gave a shit about me. Why would I ever fucking believe that? I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve known it from the start. A man like him does not fall for a woman like me, they only pretend to when they need something. 

“Claudia I am so sorry about-” “I wanna go home.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I’ll tell Louis you had something come up.”

I just nodded, grabbing my purse and jacket, heading for the elevator. 

He promised… he promised… he promised…

[sadesluvr]

PROJECT: Emily (Henry Emily x GN! Reader)

Summary: Moving into a new town, you discover that your new neighbour ticks all the boxes. He’s hot, has an adorable daughter and is, most importantly, single. (Henry Emily x GN!Neighbour!Reader)

Note: Reader is in their late 20′s/early 30′s, and Henry is in his late 30′s/early 40′s, but nothing is specified. Whatever you chose the age gap to be, he’s definitely older than you! Also, Henry does NOT look like how he’s depicted in the books...

A/N: This was a fill from an anon ask! I had free time and I’ve been meaning to write for Henry hence the quick turnaround! (TYSM for sending it <3) Feel free to request things through my ask box :) 

This is also my first Tumblr fic post (it’ll  be crossposted to AO3) so apologies if the format is off!

Word count: 5.5K (I talk too much omfg)

Tags: SMUT,  Fluff, age-gaps, creampies, Henry being a DILF...

It was during the spring when you’d met Henry Emily. You’d moved to a new town, where you could somehow actually afford a decent home at a good price, and so you wanted to do something nice for your neighbours as a ‘Please-accept-me-I’m-new-here’ gift. There were a lot of families in the area, and so you decided that cupcakes were the best option. How could you go wrong?

For starters, it would’ve helped if you’d had sugar.

Needless to say, you weren’t going to make the arduous journey to the store and back in the very middle of baking; and so you found the courage to ask your neighbours. After all, you were going to have to bite the bullet some day, weren’t you? Although people would’ve been more receptive to cupcakes in hand, they would have to respond to you somewhat decently - after all, they were your new ‘community’.

Mr and Mrs Henderson lived next door, and they had gone boating for the day (as you’d come to learn from the agonisingly loud sound of heavy equipment moving at 5AM) so they weren’t an option. Next door to them was a family, of whom you were rather ashamed to admit you didn’t know of yet. How could you knock on the door so brazenly? Were they even home? What would you say?

Your fears were cut short as the door swung open, causing you to immediately blurt out:

“Can I borrow a cup of sugar?”

The man blinked, and you thought he was going to laugh at you, which made you cringe and shrink into a ball internally, which was particularly awful considering the fact that he was quite attractive. He stood at somewhere over six feet, with auburn hair, tanned skin, and a burly build. He had a full, but trimmed beard, and was wearing a blue apron with a loose t-shirt underneath that exposed his large arms. He came across a bit like a bear, and if it wasn’t for a pair of reading glasses that sat atop his head you would’ve been scared of him, but, for some reason, the accessory felt rather comforting and homely.

“Of course,” the man said, with a smile, immediately stepping aside to let you in, which surprised you. Though, what surprised you more was the fact that you so calmly walked in, despite knowing him for all of thirty seconds. What if he was a pervert? A serial killer, even? 

“Although I don’t usually lend things to strangers…” he said knowingly, his voice trailing off.

“Oh!” You gasped, totally startled. “Er - I’m Y/N - I just moved in — I live just after the Henderson’s…”

“Oh of course!” the man exclaimed, rubbing his beard as you both entered the kitchen. “Charlie told me there was a moving van, I've just been so busy that I didn’t get to stop by and introduce myself — Gosh, I’m getting ahead of myself!” he said, stopping to take a breath. “Charlotte is my daughter. I’m Henry - Henry Emily, it’s good to meet you,” he said, his voice clear, confident, and genuine. He seemed like a good man - certainly not one who’d harvest your insides - and so you took a breath, subtly relaxing yourself.

“I’m Y/N…” you said somewhat shyly, hyper-aware as to how much bigger the man was compared to you. “It’s nice to finally meet a neighbour, no one’s really passed by…”

“They can be like that sometimes,” Henry said dismissively, opening the cupboard. “As long as you keep the music down past 9PM, and don’t have any pets that could ruin their flower patches, you’ll get along with them,” he chuckled, and you smiled back. There was an air of homely easiness to him, and, whether it was the house itself or the fact that he smelt like an intoxicating blend of cinnamon and pinewood, you felt warm.

Perhaps it was something else? Something deeper, and primal…

“Here you go!” he announced, drawing you from your thoughts as he slid the item over the counter.  “A cup of sugar. Though, you can’t really borrow it from me because I can’t get it back…”

“Uh - ? Oh… “ you chuckled awkwardly, resisting the urge to facepalm. “Thanks Mr Emily,”

“Mister?”  He gasped. “Surely you’re not that young to have to call me that. Please, just call me Henry,” he said with a smile and you nodded.

“Sure thing…” you said, trailing off. “I’d love to meet Charlotte someday, if she’s up to it…”

“Oh, she always is! She loves making new friends, and I’m sure you’ll be no exception,” he beamed, beginning to move away from the counter and walked you towards the door. He opened it, and as you stopped on the porch he paused and leaned against the door. “Perhaps we’ll have you over for dinner. I can’t remember the last time I cooked for someone that wasn’t myself or Charlie,” he chuckled, his voice slowly trailing off, as if he were remembering something. It was then that you looked down at his folded arms, and realised that there was no wedding ring on his left finger. 

Interesting.

“Thanks Henry,” you smiled again, this time biting your lip. Perhaps you were getting ahead of yourself, but you could definitely see yourself becoming ‘accosted’ with him in the long run…

If he was truly single, that was. 

“Well…You know where I live now, so please don’t be a stranger, Mr Emily,” you said, your demeanour instantly changing to one of easy confidence, and your voice dropping an octave, laced with coyness. The man briefly raised his brows, and his hand adjusted the glasses that sat atop his head. Perhaps you’d made him nervous.

You better hope so! You’d much rather him be nervous than uncomfortable.

Waving, you sauntered back down the porch steps, your legs shaking and heart pounding some kind of a lustful-fluster. 

One thing was for sure: He was certainly hot, but he did seem to be on the older side - perhaps at least a decade older than you? You weren’t a wide eyed, naive spring chicken, but it wasn’t as if you were fully mature, either - would he really fall for you? Could he fall for you? Was their room in his life for another person, considering he seemed wholly devoted to his daughter? 

Only time would tell.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was two weeks later when Henry had stopped by. Although you’d met Charlie that very weekend, the man had seemingly given you some space to ‘settle in’, and, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were dealing with an absolute asshole of a contractor, you would’ve been freaking out over the thought of alienating yourself from the man with your blatant flirting.

Yet, that didn’t seem to be the case, as you were startled by a knock on your door, and, to no (but a pleasant) surprise, it was the Emily duo. Charlie’s hair was in two tiny pigtails that stuck out above her head, and was wearing her oversized backpack with a yellow t-shirt and lilac shorts and plimsolls, whilst Henry opted for a more low-key look, with a burgundy coloured Henley and loose jeans. The buttons on his shirt were cracked slightly, and you could see that he was wearing a makeshift necklace made out of cereal (courtesy of none other than Charlotte herself), which sat atop his broad chest, where a few hairs peeled out from between the fabric.

Did he know what he was doing, or was he just an oblivious, bumbling dork?

“Y/N!” Charlie said happily as you high fived her, stepping aside to let the girl in as her father followed. He nodded his head in an acknowledging manner, and, just as you closed the door the sunlight caught his brown eyes - within them nothing but a pool of warmth and goodness. He smiled at you before focusing his attention back on Charlie, who was running around the house like a madman.

“Please be careful, okay?” you called out. “There’s still stuff lying around…I don’t want you to get hurt!”“I’ll be extra extra safe, I promise!” She said happily, and you could hear her delving into the couch and slapping the cushions like a drum.Henry chuckled as you both followed the sound of the girl, looking around the house. The walls were still somewhat bare, the flooring was half done and there was a lack of furniture…Anywhere.“We just wanted to come around and see how you’re settling in…” he said ambiguously, and you bit your lip at the very obvious elephant in the room - your house was far from being a home.“…Goodness,” he began. “Everything’s —“

“All over the place? Yeah,” you scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My contractor is a B-I-T-C-H —“ you spelt out, careful as to not let Charlie hear. “Forgive my language - all of my furniture is delayed or out of stock, and I don’t know how to fix a floor to save my life!”you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “All I know how to do is paint the walls, and even that’s taking forever!”

“Paint?” Charlie perked up. “I like to paint!” she said, swinging her feet in anticipation. 

“You do, don’t you, Charlie?” Henry said, having his ‘lightbulb’ moment. “Why don’t we help you finish? I know my way around some tools, so I’m not a stranger to home repair…”

“Really?” You gasped, pretending to consider it. Like hell were you going to say no to him tinkering around your house, sweaty, with his muscles rippling as he toyed with and manoeuvred and carved and pounded —

Seems like you’re thinking about something more than housework.

“Thanks Henry!” you exclaimed, pulling him into an unexpected hug, of which he returned. Your arms fit snugly around his thick body, and you felt yourself melt into his comforting scent…Until Charlie joined the circle.

“I want a hug too!” she said, pushing her little body in between, making the two of you chuckle. It was that moment that you made eye contact with Henry - and you realised that he had a little blush on his face. For some reason, it felt like you were both Charlie’s parents.

Maybe you could be one day.

Maybe…

“I guess we’ll be spending more time together,” he said somewhat shyly, as he pulled away and looked around the house. He hadn’t even seen upstairs yet and he knew that it was going to be a long-term project.

Not that he minded, anyway. He’d been meaning to find a way to get to know you better, you were easily the friendliest person on the block, and, most importantly, Charlie adored you. In his mind, her opinion was law.

“It’s nice to get out of the house and go somewhere that isn’t work or school…Even if you’re a door or two away,” he chuckled, and you smiled.

“You’re lucky I don’t live directly next door,” you smirked. “I’d never leave you two alone,”

“There’s always room for one more…Especially if it’s you,” he smiled.

“Oh really?” You said, raising a brow knowingly, your voice barely a whisper. “Why ‘especially’ me?”

“Well, we like you…” he said nervously, diverting his gaze from you. Was he blushing? Oh God, he was blushing! Like a total schoolboy.

“Is that both of the Emily’s speaking, or just Henry?” you pushed, raising a brow.

“Both…” he mumbled. “For sure,” he said, anxiously clearing his throat.

“Well, I can’t wait to have you!” you said, clapping your hands together. “Around, that is. Let’s not worry the children,” you tutted playfully, nodding to Charlie who had zoned out completely, rambling to herself about all of the lovely colours she was going to paint the walls. You smiled down at the girl, giving Henry a moment to compose himself from your comment. 

You just couldn’t help yourself sometimes.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Henry and Charlotte had done just as they said, and their spare afternoons and evenings after work and school were spent helping you around the house. Whilst Charlie happily sploshed paint in the smaller, obscure crevices of the wall, Henry did the harder, grittier jobs - assisting you in moving your fridge, washing machine, and had even managed to fix your car while he was at it! With every movement of his body, every intense twitch of focus on the task you admired him, pretending to paint the skirting boards, whilst you were really imagining what he’d look like from your position on your knees.

Little did you know he was doing the exact same, albeit as respectfully as he could. He’d sneak a glance at you every now and then as he’d change the screws or drills, quickly averting his attention to his daughter or the task at hand when he thought you had noticed him. He couldn’t help it, really, you were quite - as they’d say in his day - the ‘looker’.

One Saturday the duo hadn’t come around, and you found that the house felt rather empty and dreary without them, even though your house was beginning to feel more homely and full by the minute.

Get used to it, sweetheart, they’re not your family.

You decided to turn in early that night, throwing on an oversized t-shirt over your bare torso, and a tiny, barely there pair of shorts. You really needed to go clothes shopping.

Just as you were about to relax, there was a sudden knock on the door, making you jump instantaneously. Who could that be? You weren’t expecting anyone, and your neighbours certainly weren’t going to introduce themselves at 8PM at night. There were no weapons to arm yourself with in case of a robber, and you considered ignoring them...Until you realised who it could be.

Rushing down the stairs, you flung open the door, only to find Henry himself.

“God, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, stepping aside to let the man in. “I totally forgot that Charlie was with her aunt, and that you were coming tonight…” you rambled, trying to make sense of it all as you simultaneously tried to pull down your shorts. If someone didn’t know any better, they would’ve thought you were half nude.

“It’s not a big deal,” Henry chuckled awkwardly, removing his jacket and placing it on a peg. “It’s my fault - what sort of a chump comes to fix lighting at 8PM at night?”

Snickering at his vanilla language, you made sure to make him feel better.

“You’re just a generous chump, I suppose,” you laughed. “Well, either that or you’re a chump with not-so-pure intentions…”

“If you’re uncomfortable, I can leave,” he said quickly. “I’ve got all day to myself tomorrow, I can easily come back…”

“No! Please, stay,” you said, your voice low and throaty. “In fact, why don’t you leave the tinkering for tonight? I’ve got some beer in the fridge, how about we get to know each other a little better?”

Henry gulped, and stroked his beard before he spoke up again.

“I suppose we could do with a break…”

“Great!” you exclaimed, pointing to the couch. “I’ll be right back - Don’t get cold feet, okay?”

Henry nodded, and found himself overthinking how to sit on the furniture. Legs spread? Was that too crude? Crossed? Too formal? Hunched into a corner? Was that too rude and uninviting?

He felt like a teenager again, sitting next to his crush in class and unsure of how to make even the smallest bit of conversation without combusting entirely. Was he too old to feel like this? You were at least a decade younger than him, and whilst you were clearly old enough to drink and own your own home, he couldn’t help but feel a little…Uncomfortable?

Yes, you flirted with him, but you were young - it likely came naturally! You could easily just be using him for free food and labour and such, and, once you’d gotten what you’d wanted eventually, turn a blind eye to him. 

What if you were using him to get to Charlie?

He shuddered at the thought. It was a parents worst nightmare, especially if they were a single parent like him. After all, Henry knew he wore his heart on his sleeve, and that he was deeply in tune with his emotions; which made him a rather easy target to many. Surely you weren’t that kind of a person, were you?

You seemed kind, confident and funny; traits that he deeply admired in an individual, not to mention you were extremely attractive to him, especially in those shorts of yours.

He blushed just thinking about it. How long had it been since he’d had deep, emotional human contact? How long since you’d last been able to —

“Hey! You’re still here!” You smiled, handing him a beer with a paper towel around it as you perched on the armrest. “I didn’t know if you wanted it in a glass or not, but I figured you look like a man who chugs it right from the bottle,” you giggled, and he nodded.

“Astute observation, Y/N, though you wouldn’t be the first to liken me to a lumberjack of the sort! I know I look like a very forward and staunch bloke, but I’m as frail as a lamb really,”

“Bloke? Frail as a lamb? What fancy language,” you snorted at the sheer formality of his wording. 

“Forgive me, my work colleague is British,” Henry chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “I’ve picked up so much from him, it’s unbelievable,”

“Finally!” you exclaimed happily, nudging him. “I’ve learned something about you that isn’t Charlie-based! A British friend, huh? Are you guys close?”

“Thick as thieves…He’s got three kids, and I’m like their Uncle, I suppose,”

“Wow,” you said. “That’s pretty cute,”

“I try,” he said bashfully, his body tensing slightly as you slipped next to him, but giving him enough space so that he was comfortable around you. You rested your back against the armrest, folding your legs to your chest so that your shirt rode up your thigh, your privates somewhat visible through the shorts. 

Was it seduction? A little, but it was your house. You had a right to be comfortable!

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “What other friends do you have?”

“Not many, really,” Henry said, playing with the bottle. “I know some of Charlie’s friends' parents, but that’s it…”

“Aww, why?” you pouted. “You’re such a great guy!”

“I'm not very sociable…I’ve always been a rather awkward kid,” he said, now strangely relaxing into the cushions. He didn’t look at you, but you could tell that he was starting to feel more comfortable in himself. “I would usually wait until someone else made the first move, just to be sure. Even then, it felt rather unnatural to me…”

“I understand,” you said, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, trying to not get too carried away in the act. How could he simultaneously be soft and homely yet bold and muscly? “I’m like that too…”

“Really?” he said, utterly taken aback. “You seem rather carefree to me,”

“What, just because I’m young? Not all ‘youngins are loud and boisterous, Grandpa,” you snickered, and he shook his head. “I guess we’re similar. We’re both a little shy, but once you break us out of our shells we can get a little…”

“What? Rowdy?” Henry interjected.

“I was going to say freaky…” You giggled, playing with the bottle and stroking it in a fairly suggestive manner.

“I’m not familiar with the newer lingo. What does that mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what it means…”

“I —“ Henry stopped himself, his cheeks turning as red as his hair. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Y/N,“

“I like it that way,” you said softly, biting your lip. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for you to give in just once, would it? You work so hard, you deserve a release…”

Henry sighed, and put down his bottle before turning to look at you. Your eyes were wide with want, and also genuine affection - how could he say no? He knew he wanted it too, and you were offering it to him…It was everything he wanted!

“Y-You know I’m older, right? I’m sure there are people your age who are better than me…” he said nervously.

“Henry, I want this,” you said sincerely, taking his hand in your own. “I want you…Even if it doesn’t amount to anything, we can always go back to being friends!”

Of course you wanted to be more than friends, but Henry was such a sweet person to be around that you couldn’t imagine your days without a friendly wave from him, not to mention Charlie, in her entirety. 

“So…Ahem,” he said somewhat uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,”

You crawled towards each other, and Henry planted a soft kiss on your lips, his beard tickling your cheeks as you cupped his face, allowing yourself to melt into him. There was that all too familiar scent; that earthly, serene yet overpowering musk that you’d come to associate with the man. He didn’t stay on you for long, seemingly not wanting to agitate you, but as he pulled away, you noticed a certain something down below. Perhaps the brief kiss meant more to him than you’d thought.  “Henry,” you sighed, your lips lush and moist with want. “Please don’t be shy…You won’t hurt me, I promise,”

“I just — You’re like poison to me Y/N,” he said nervously. “I haven’t had a partner in so long…And you’re so beautiful — I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back…”

“Let go,” you said, your voice barely a whisper as you stroked his beard, staring into his warm brown eyes in the process. Whether it was alcohol or lust, his pupils were dilated, and he looked strangely vulnerable, which enticed you even more. “For me…Please,”

Henry nodded, and you crawled into him again, but this time he didn’t hold back. The kiss was still soft, but had a powerful, tender passion to it, leaving you with no choice but to surrender. You’d awoken something within him, and none of you ever wanted to turn back. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as your lips moved in tandem, as his ones found your hips, briefly grazing your buttocks, and back to your waist, hoisting you up effortlessly.

“Mmh — Copping a feel there, are we Mr Emily?” you teased, whispering into his mouth as you worked together to position yourself so that you were straddling him. “You can do it a little harder than that…I don’t bite…” you purred, and Henry moaned in response, his large hands massaging your ass. You could feel his erection through your shorts, where you were equally getting hot in yours. 

Slowly, you began to grind your hips against his thighs, and he pulled away from the kiss to stare at you in total admiration.He was panting, his face was glowing and his hair had begun to become unkempt from your excessive rustling. He looked like a pornstar, a far cry from his wholesome dad status that had initially drawn you to him.

“Bedroom?” He said, his voice gravelly, and you were partly stunned at the quickness of his statement.

“Yes,”

“Is it done?”

“Does it matter? We’re gonna end up messing it up anyway…”

Henry shook his head, pushed himself up, and began to carry you up the stairs.

“There aren’t any loose nails about, are there? I’ve heard you could get tetanus from one —“

“Henry! Don’t worry about that stuff!” you giggled. “You’re such a dad,”

“I'm getting older, you know —“

“Yes, yes,” you said playfully. “We know. Jeez, you’re not senile!”

“How do you know?”

“Something in your pants is telling me otherwise…”

“Oh!” Henry said, blushing as he lay you on the bed. The room was totally bare (at least it was somewhat done up) “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t apologise! I take it as quite the compliment,” you purred, beginning to peel off your shirt, so that you were topless. Henry took a moment to look down at you, admiring your semi-bare form as he took off his own shirt, remaining in a white vest.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbled. “How on Earth did I get so lucky to end up with a neighbour like you?”

“Good things come to those who wait…” you said smugly. “…You’re going to get even luckier soon,”

“Hmm?” he questioned, sitting on the bed and caressing your torso, stroking and kissing your skin in total adoration. His hands were slightly calloused, but were still comforting, and if you had more than a loaf of bread and milk in your house you’d have broken out some baby oils. “What’s that mean…?”

“Lie back, and you’ll see,”

“Okay,” he nodded, beginning to relax himself. “Wait!” He interjected, sitting up to look at you as he realised what was about to happen. “I can’t ask that of you…”

“Let me at least feel it, Hen…” you said, palming his erection through his pants as you began to unzip them. “Just a little?”

“Just a — Oohh,” he hissed, letting out some air through his teeth as your hands came into contact with his cock. Luckily for you, the carpet did indeed match the drapes - he had a wild patch of reddish-brown hair around his base, and he was roughly six inches, with a decent girth. 

No wonder he was so shy and calm, he was totally packing and he knew it.

It was a fresh, peachy shade of pink, and some precum had begun to sprout from the head. Smirking, you gripped it, one hand stabilising the base as the other stroked it up and down; agonisingly slowly. The man’s eyes were shut, and his teeth grazed his bottom lip as he seemed to fixate on his breathing, letting out small, but long moans from his chest.

“Oh, Y/N…That’s —“

“Am I making you feel good, Henry? It feels like you’ve been needing this,” you giggled as his heavy cock twitched. He opened his eyes, staring at you intently as he nodded.

“I’m going to need to hear you say it, I’m afraid…” you teased.

“Mfh — Y/N — I -“ he stumbled, utterly wrapped up in the calming sensation. “You feel so good, I might —“

You immediately pulled your hands away, not wanting to embarrass him, and he ran his hands across his beard in shock, licking his lips as he did. He was about to open his mouth, when you did the work for him.

“How do you want me, Mr Emily?” You said, with a curious head tilt and wide eyes.

“In my lap…Straddle me like you did downstairs,”

You did exactly that, and the man kissed you again as he pulled off your shorts, running the material down your legs so that they pooled at your ankles.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” he said sincerely, and you weren’t sure whether it was the glow of the moon, or just a simple nightlight, but it was then that you wanted him to consume you entirely. It was deep, and it was primal, an emotion that you exhibited through your frantic and passionate movements, of which he mirrored, adjusting himself so that his tip lined up with your entrance.

You locked eyes with each other, and with a small nod he entered you, causing your spine to arch in an almost inhuman way, and for the man to groan with relief. It had simply been too long since he’d been inside someone, and he shut his eyes in sheer pleasure as he accosted himself with the warm, squeezing sensation. You gripped onto his broad chest for support, burying your face into his neck as his hands found your waist, slowly moving your hips up and down his shaft.

“Henry — You’re so big— I don’t know if I can take it all…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said in an assuring manner, stroking your skin. “I’ll be gentle. You don’t have to take it all — it’s all about making us both feel good…”

“O-Okay,” you nodded, but you desperately wanted to consume him, just to see his face twist and contort with sheer pleasure.

Once you felt comfortable, you began to move up and down his shaft, your hips slowly falling into a gentle rhythm as he thrust up into you. One arm was on your waist, and the other steadying your back, guiding you through the motions as you engulfed his throbbing cock. 

Henry’s moans turned into grunts as you began to circle your hips, making his cock twitch with desire as you took him so eagerly.

“Am I hurting you?” You said, eyes wide and lips pouted.

“The complete opposite, actually,” he chuckled. Even in the heat of the moment he still managed to possess his charming dorkiness.

“You’re so cute,” you giggled, pecking his cheek and throwing your head back in ecstasy.

“Not bad for an old man, huh?” He smirked, caressing your cheeks to stare at you again. He seemed to like doing that.

“Please stop calling yourself old,” you gasped. “You’re easily fucking me like a thirty year old,”

“Twenty five year old,” he bargained.

“Twenty- seven,”

“Deal,” he chuckled, beginning to slam his hips up into yours, creating a clapping sound. His thrusts were becoming more confident with every movement, and as you found yourself slowing down, he was quickening his pace. 

Both his hands steadied your hips, and he leaned forward so that your body lay on the bed, whilst your hips were inverted, resting on his strong thighs. He began to pound you from this angle, admiring the way your body looked all sprawled out below him, leaning down to plant kisses along your chest and neck. 

You, on the other hand, were in a sheer state of bliss, to the point that you could barely see straight. None of your college hookups had been able to fuck you like this, like an animal, but also deeply intuitively and caring.

Henry’s muscles were rippling, and he began to wobble, signalling to you that he was getting close.

“Uh - Mmfh - Y/N…” he moaned. “I’m gonna — Are you close?”

“Mmfh…” you nodded, unable to speak. “Please - Don’t pull out…” you begged, and Henry’s eyes widened, letting out a groan at the very thought of filling you up.

“Oh - I’m gonna — Fuck…” he whispered, cursing for what felt like the first time. His total bliss sent you over the edge, your body wobbling as you came, just as Henry keeled over, stabilising himself with his hands either side of you, panting as his chest rumbled. His eyes were shut, his hair glued to his forehead, and whispered sweet nothings as he pumped loads of his hot seed inside of you, for what felt like forever. He was so pent up that he thought he might’ve burst into millions of segments, like a firework on New Years Eve. Sighing, he tried to catch his breath as he withdrew from you, some of his remains leaking out of your hole as he fell beside you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your body and pulling you closer to him.

You swallowed some saliva, trying to desperately lubricate your throat as you scrambled to find the words for what just happened.

“You’re right…You do fuck like a twenty five year old…”

“It helps when the stimuli looks something like you,” he chuckled, drawing you to his chest as he kissed your forehead. You shut your eyes, drowning yourself in his embrace. Of course the scent was there,  and although it was mixed with sweat and sex hormones, you didn’t mind in the slightest.

It was silent for a few moments until you spoke up.

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“Can you stay the night? It’s cold, and the room is bare…”

“I can’t believe you’d assume I’d leave,” he chuckled, rubbing your upper back soothingly. His chest slowly began to drop to its regular levels, and you traced the outline of his pectorals as you did, finding yourself growing weary by the minute. You yawned, and you didn’t know it, but he smiled down at you.

“You know - I really like you…” you said drowsily. “I think we could make great neighbours…”

“Just neighbours?”

“We’ll see…” you teased. “Don’t get too cocky now, you haven’t even taken me out for dinner yet…” you finished with another yawn, your eyes now fluttering shut.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he chuckled. “Sleep well,” he finished, kissing your forehead once again. As your hearts slowed down from their high, Henry knew that you were the one. Even if it was temporary, he owed it to himself to see where the two of you could go together. 

-FIN.