#(i'm not your) steppin' stone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

semperamans · 2 months

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benny is back home n'he's missed you so much he may just have to fuck you over it!!!

warnings!!!!

benny is toxic! unprotected sex! benny is toxic! i didn't proof read it!!!! so there are probably so many mistakes!!!! n' this is LONG, so read at your own risk <3

despite its stillness, there is something deafening about the july air. there's nothing more to hear than night bird song as it falls over the slumbering city. gone are the rumbling engines on i-90 n'the chatter of women parading down the sidewalks. there are no babies gigglin', no ice cream trucks wailing, no sirens squwakin'. there's nothin' stirrin' in this humid night besides the rapid beat of your heart because, well, you shouldn't be here. you know that jus' as well as i do. you should be at home, sprawled beneath the ceiling fan, eyes closed, blissfully disconnected from the world, n'you're a good girl, so i'm sure that's what you would be doing had the shrill urgency of benny's call not woken you.

"hi baby," is what he breathed over the line, and despite the distance you could smell the jack daniels on his breath. "m'home." he had been home for a few days now. johnny had called you n'made you aware the second benny's wheels crossed the county line. and then you waited. and waited. and waited. and were your feelings hurt when benny didn't call? absolutely. by day three you were going insane. like mosquito-bitten legs, it was painfully hard to ignore the absence of his voice through the receiver. every purring engine had your head whipping 'round. every blonde head had your heart hammering, but it was never the right engine. never the right head. never benny. johnny'd tried to get you to come down to the clubhouse, but you didn't wanna look desperate (even though you were). it was just so hard to think about. all you could see in your mind's eye was benny splayed across a bar stool, lap empty, hand wrapped around a whiskey glass when it should've been around your throat.

"m'missin' you so much." you wouldn't have assumed he missed you much at all with how radio silent he'd been since leavin' over a month ago. your girls told you that if benny really cared he would make more of an effort - wouldn't run off whenever things other than his dick got hard - an' yeah, you knew this was likely true, but he was enigmatic and enticing and everything.

"wan' you to come see me."

you should've hung up the phone right then, but you didn't. and you definitely shouldn't've pulled a sleep shirt over your nightgown n'sneakers on your bare feet, but you did. now here you stand - peerin' up at benny's front door - tryin' to tell yourself it's all right. nothin' to be nervous over. but you were nervous, so you counted the steppin' stones - 14 - and then there he was.

he looked good, there was simply no denying it. when it was particularly hot, benny wore nothing beneath his colors n'tonight you could see his bare chest glistening with sweat from the glow of the porch light. moths and june bugs spun themselves dizzy 'round him, but he didn't flinch. his sights were set, smile wan and excited and focused on you.

"c'mere." benny's voice had a medicinal quality about it - you figured that out some time ago. his voice was a salve on sunburned skin. it was a cool mid-day rainstorm. it was enough to have your eyes flicking upward, your body moving forward, your mouth forming the shape of his name. "look at you," he practically purred. he seemed more coherent, which was great. you didn't like fuckin' benny when he was drunk - always fearin' it never meant the same as when he pressed himself into you sober. he held you at arms length, eyes traipsing the familiar paths his fingers and tongue had mapped repeatedly. "y'know, i could travel from here to fuckin' the ends of the universe n'never find a girl s'pretty as you."

"s'that what you're lookin' for when you leave?" the words escape your mouth before your brain can register the impact they will have, but benny doesn't seem all that deterred. he just shakes his head; half-hearted guilt tugging at the corner of his mouth as he lets ya go n'invites you inside. benny would never apologize for leavin'. that just wasn't his forte, but he'd make up for it. he always did.

the interior of benny's place is nicer than you'd expect n'it's all because johnny outright fuckin' refused to step foot in the place when benny'd first moved in. it was terrible, but now the trailer actually looks decent. s'not much: a small livin' space with a couch, a tiny kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and a bedroom big enough for a few pieces of furniture, but it smells like benny: like motor oil and sandalwood and smoke and body wash and you wish they sold the scent in department stores because you'd buy up every bottle. it's the aroma you miss terribly when he runs. it's the scent you wish lasted just a bit longer on your bedsheets. it's now overwhelming as benny plods over, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. hands unoccupied, he has nothing better to do with them than wrap 'em 'round your waist, tuggin' you into his slick embrace. his chin fits so nicely atop your head n'he's always told you that you were meant to be. "fuck soulmates. i think god s'got a big ass puzzle n'he just, tears it up. throws the pieces here n'there. but me'n'you, baby? we're always gonna fit together. m'always gonna find you." he wouldn't need to find you if he didn't run but when you're pressed so snugly together like you are now - well - he could say anything and you'd agree.

"look at me, darlin'. wanna see those eyes again. missed 'em so much." n'when you do look at him, you wish you hadn't. he looks better (somehow) than the last time you saw him: skin so clear, eyes so bright, smile taken from a fuckin' toothpaste commercial. it's unfair how good god made such a bad boy look. "there's my girl." and damn if his voice doesn't sound even better.

a half-hearted hum rolls from the back of your throat. you want nothing more than to be his girl, but he'd never really allow that. never really allow you to get close enough and the hurt must register on your face because benny's takin' your cheeks between his palms, eyebrows furrowing.

"what's goin' on, baby?"

baby. the word sounds so good rolling off his tongue. you wanna be his baby more than anything, but you say "nothin'" cuz that's all this will ever be.

"doesn't seem like nothin'. tell me." you think about it. could you, rather, should you tell him? the words are there, right there. right on the tip of your tongue; i miss you. i've missed you. i so badly wanted to see you. i want to be more than the girl you call when you want to fuck. the words are so hot you want to spit them out, but you can't say those things n'likely will never be able to. the words are toxic. poison. those words would assassinate this arrangement n'as much as it hurts, you know deep down you'd rather have pieces of benny than none at all so instead of speaking you rise on your tip toes and press your lips against his.

kissing benny is something you could never tire of. it's the delicate bite of his perfect teeth on your pillowy lip that has you opening your mouth - inviting him in - begging him to take. it's the taste of mint and cigarettes and liquor that lingers on your tongue that makes you long for more. but benny pulls away first - always does - n'that's when you notice the wrinkle in his brow is gone because he is no longer concerned about what's racketing around your brain. no. he's had a sample, and now he wants the whole thing.

"c'mere." it's an impossible command. you're already so close - any closer and you would - benny dips slightly, circling your thighs with his arms, pushin' you atop the high-backed couch where you wobble and clutch onto him which makes him smile but then everything changes because "want another kiss. missed that mouth so much." and you collide in a spit-soaked show of affection sure to bruise the flesh now scraping so deliciously against his beard.

this is familiar to benny. he knows where to touch you. knows how to caress your skin as he peels the shirt from your flushed torso and pushes the thin straps of your nightgown down. you're soft. he's always loved that about you. your voice. your hair. your skin. so supple. and there are times benny's gotta stop himself. he's gotta repress that primal urge to take, to claim, to mark but it's hard so hard because you are so soft. his agile fingers float down your neck, relishing in the plume of perfume that billows out as your body contorts closer and closer and closer. you're so responsive: gasping in the right places, arching into his hands so perfectly. your dainty inhales fuel him. he wants to do more. wants to hear more.

"you're gonna let me fuck you right here, aren't ya?" benny asks, pulling back to gauge your reaction. "missed me so much you're gonna let me fuck you on this couch, eh?"

"you're the one who called me." you say, smile wide and knowing as you feel benny's cock twitch. his eyes turn molten lapis. he had called you. he had missed you. but he wouldn't say it. couldn't.

"awfully mouthy," he clucks, pressing his mouth into yours for another taste. "why don't y'use it for somethin' else?"

before you, benny'd never been a fan of oral sex. i mean, he'd come around to enjoyin' it thanks to johnny but, it wasn't high on his list 'til you started suckin' him off any and every chance you got. for a mouth belonging to such a precious gal, he never would have expected the sinful things you could make him feel. n'now, knelt before him, he can barely fight the urge to shove his dick in your mouth.

"s'pretty. always so pretty." you hum. you got him out of his jeans in record time and thank god because it's probably a million degrees in the goddamn trailer. now he's free; cock out, dripping precum and he can see the pride puffin' up your chest. no other girl could get 'em like this - could rile him up 'til his cock was thick and heavy and veiny and hot to the touch - no one but you n'at the first whisper of your fingers, his head rolls back. his precum is good lubrication, but you need more. could always use more, so up you come, crossing your cute little feet under your bum, and then - fuck - you lean forward and spit on his heated skin. yeah, benny thinks he may cum from that alone.

"touch me, doll. c'mon."

"shh," your fingers form a loose circle 'round the base of his cock. "i've got you."

"jesus christ," its the feel of your lips on his thighs and your fingers on his dick that makes him squeeze his eyes shut. he's got one fist balled at his side, the other tucks its way into your hair because he's gotta do something. anything.

"y've still got your christmas tree up, so, y'know, could be insensitive what with the holidays n'all. chirstimas in july." and despite the fact that you've got his pulsing length so wet and hard in your hand - benny fucking laughs.

"you're so -" but whatever adjective he had planned to use flies from his mind the moment your mouth covers him. all he can think about now is not cumming. you don't need to know that he hasn't fucked another woman since the last time he was balls deep in you. you don't need to know that he hasn't jerked off in god knows how long in preparation for this night. the only thing that you need to know is that he fuckin' loves this. he just lets you work. just relishes in the feeling of having you there. of having your mouth on him. it's so heavenly. cavernous yet tight. wet and warm and "fuck - oh fuck - stop."

and you do with no hesitation. you pull away so quickly that strands of saliva trickle down onto your tits. okay. maybe not jerking off wasn't the best idea, benny determines.

"did i do something wrong?" your voice is husky, eyes wide and slightly frightened and benny thinks he may love you.

"no." he shakes his head, grabs your arms, pulls you up. "no. fuck - i wanna fuck you." he brushes his palm across your cheek, wiping the spit and precum away. "want to fuck you right here. on the couch. c'mon," he maneuvers you around, makin' it to where his bare ass is on the couch and you're hoverin' above him, smiling so cutely at him he's sure he's gonna explode. you're so fucking cute that it nearly suffocates him.

"gimmie another kiss." he breathes, cupping your cheek once more. your lips meet in a cacophony of sighs. relief slackens your shoulders and now anticipation builds because you know what's coming.

"benny,"

"mm?"

"unless you have rubbers tucked in the cushions," you have to fight through his kisses. "you can't fuck me here."

the words marinate. the ceiling fan bats them around like a cat does to yarn and then benny finally responds.

"let me fuck you raw."

there are a hundred good reasons why it's a horrible idea, but you can't conjure a single fucking one as your head bobs in agreement.

"yeah?" perhaps christmas miracles are still valid in july because holy shit. "yeah?"

"please."

"come 'ere then."

you're obedient. benny loves that about you. seconds later you're spreading your legs, shimmering with sweat as you fight to maintain your balance n'you look so hungry - so eager to please - so pretty n'he can feel your wetness seeping onto his bare thigh as you pepper tender kisses along his chest. you want this. you want it just as badly as he does. he can tell. those preening noises comin' from the back of your throat and the bite of your nails into his shoulder are the only things grounding him to this moment. he feels so light - like he could fuckin' float if you weren't sat atop him - but there is work to do. a certain set of things that need to be done before he can spear you on his cock.

"gonna stretch you open first," he tells you, pushing your hip back but you don't budge. your head shakes, lower lip juts out. no.

"i wanna feel it." you say, voice almost a whine. you're tired of waiting. tired of playing this game so you propel yourself onto your feet, nearly toppling as the cushion gives under your weight, but you've got this. you sweet capable being. "wanna feel you now." your right hand circles his cock. "just want you to be in me benny. jus' you." it's a confession spoken like gospel. n'with your help, his gushing head probes your wetness and benny's thoughts spiral recklessly. "ready?"

it's cute. the way you ask him. the way your pretty little head cocks to the side. it's even cuter the way your pussy so greedily takes his cock once benny gives you an answer. yes. a singular nod. then everything is hot. he's too close to the sun, but the burn is delicious.

every bump. every vein. every groove on his cock awakens something within you. your eyes are closed so tightly - you may rupture a vessel - but you don't care. you're full. so full n'he's only halfway in. it's never felt like this before. you're in uncharted territory so the first roll of your hips is exploratory. the second is more confident. the third is a plunge and benny is drowning.

"god. fuck." words to form coherent sentences have long since vanished from benny's vocabulary. and you? usually so deft with language, you're somewhat embarrassed at the foolishness of your grunts, but benny loves it. he watches you move from squinted eyes. you're fascinating; body shifting with ease up and down up and down up and down. the muscles in your stomach tighten and wan as his cock disappears deep in your cunt only to reappear seconds later dripping and glistening with remnants of your wet. it's hypnotic n'benny thinks you're magic and sweet and good but dirty - oh so dirty. his balls and heart squeeze simultaneously n'it only gets worse when you toss your arms around his neck. benny can feel your cool breath on his throat - it adheres to the damp indications you lips left behind - and your tits, god your tits press against the material of his colors and rub and rub and rub. it's intimate. it's too much. too long like this and benny knows he'll be spillin' his secrets and his seed and that's not how he wants this to go, not yet anyway.

the change in position catches you by surprise, he can see it on your face. those puffy lips part in confusion, but he silences your questions with a shattering kiss. your teeth gnash and spit slips down your chin as he bites your inhibitions away. he's got you beneath him now. missionary. his favorite because he just likes lookin' at you. likes being close, so close. he's in his element; forehead pressed against yours, mouth open, grunting obscenities as he pushes harder and harder and harder into your sobbing pussy. you're slowly disintegrating. the way your ankles lock around his spine perfectly aligns your clit with his pelvic bone and my god nothing has ever felt quite so good.

"benny," your voice is a dark whisper that grows brighter brighter brighter as he thrusts into oblivion. you want more. want it harder. and benny is happy to oblige. the sound of his nuts slapping against your soaked center reminds him of a fuckin' metronome. your pitiful little moans could put pornstars to shame.

"you're so fuckin' tight." and it's true. he's said it to other girls before out of courtesy, but he means it with you. "when i cum you're gonna take every drop, mm?" benny's ability to say such delivish things so close to your face drives you insane. it's as though he's tellin' you what the weather is gonna be tomorrow, or sayin' his favorite color. "s'my favorite pussy to fuck. no one feels like you." he should stop, but he can't. it's too good. you're so good. "only girl i wanna fill. only girl i wanna give my cum to."

if pride were a flower you'd be a fuckin' garden. confidence flourishes like ivy as he keeps. going. it's in this moment you know it's worth it. the hours waiting for him. the lonely nights. it's all worth it. benny is worth it.

"are y'gonna cum in me?" at the sound of your voice, benny's forehead crashes down on yours. his eyelashes are so long they kiss the tops of his round cheeks.

"fuck - yeah."

"yeah?" you angle your pelvis, gasping at the new sensation. n'benny knows what to do. knows how to send you over. snaking a hand down, his index finger rubs circles around your clit, dipping down, pullin' your shared juices up. you're not gonna last much longer n'as much as he wishes he could keep you here forever his fucking nuts are so tight. he's so close.

"fuck - baby. shit."

"do it deep. wanna have you leakin' out of me for days. want somethin' to remember you by." you've never spoken like this before - his sweet darling - where did this mouth come from? one hand squeezes your jaw. something to remember him by? he'll give you something. he pushes your head to the side, latching his teeth into the side of your neck. the rough yet delicate suck and soothing stroke of his tongue add another element to the amalgamation of pleasure, and now you feel like you're drowning.

"m'gonna cum." benny’s choked voice rasps in your ear.

"cum in me."

"fuck im gonna cum in you."

he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to. there's no willpower strong enough to allow him to extract his cock from your pussy. he's sure of it.

"need you to cum with me." his index finger circles around and around and around. "gotta cum when i tell you. yeah? gonna be a good girl n'listen to daddy?" your toes fuckin' curl, digging into the cushion. "use your words." he doesn't know - doesn't care - that your words have magically turned into alphabet soup; there are letters and sounds but no coherence, but it's no excuse. benny, devilishly, begins to slow. "use. your. words." each syllable is punctuated with a sharp thrust n'the head of his cock is wedging so deliciously against your spongy center that you nearly cum, but you don't. you're good. so good.

"m'gonna listen." you wail. "gonna be good." your reward is a kiss and the continuation of benny's deliriously fast pace.

"knew you would." it becomes hard to speak with you squeezing round him like that. his pleasure is melting into an unidentifiable mass. he knows nothing of isolation. his body no longer belongs to him. he can't tell where you start and he ends but he knows where you will finish. "gonna need you to cum, pretty baby." he's unable to do much more than whisper. "ready?" you nod. "ready?"

"please."

"now."

you couldn't hold back even if you tried. the first spurt of benny's cum is so warm you make a surprised little gasp. he's so deep, pumping his load so deep that the lower part of your abdomen has stretched in accommodation. your bodies flounder together; fingers pressing, lips melting, legs tangling. benny thrusts once, twice, three times more before he's spent. his body begins to still - his weight slowly pressing upon you before collapsing. your thundering heart could lull him to sleep if he'd allow it, but he can't allow it because unlike with other women; the lustful haze refuses to dissipate. post-nut clarity doesn't exist when the woman you fucked looks and feels the way you do and it scares benny so much that he collects you in his arms n'moves you off of him.

"i'll bring you somethin' to wipe off with." he doesn't look at you as he rises. instead he chooses to focus on how his legs don't feel like his legs. how the hot water won't warm up n'he can't give you a cold rag. his disappointment grows when he returns to find you already shrugging back into your nightgown. the pair of you tend to yourselves. you wipe benny's cum off your thighs and toss the rag into the dirty clothes pile on the floor. you try not to linger. you know it only makes things harder, but benny's gazin' at you with those eyes. he's fixin' your necklace and opening the door for you.

"gimmie a hug?" his bravado is gone. his voice is quiet, his arms are welcoming. you fool yourself into thinking he's gonna miss you too. you've got his cum dripping down your leg and he's got your heart in his hands but nothing has changed. things would never change. n'you wanna stay here - wanna stay with him for eternity - but if history repeats itself you will only have another minute in his embrace. he who holds your pieces together is the one responsible for their fractured state n'maybe you're a masochist. maybe you're in love with the wrong person. maybe none of it is supposed to make sense anyway.

when you part, you want to cry. benny kisses you. it's soft, a delicate kiss you wanna bottle and keep forever next to his scent. you worry that one day you will unknowingly have a last kiss with benny, but for now you allow yourself this moment. he won't promise to call n'you won't say goodbye. you'll just slip out into the night - probably call johnny usin' the payphone down the street and spend the rest of the night sobbin' into his neck.

but it's worth it. somehow even after it all, benny cross is still worth it.

#clo really doesn’t know how to write smut #i really ran with this #it's so long and it feels so bad because i have been staring at it all day #but enjoy!#nsfw!#benny cross smut #austin butler #benny cross #the bikeriders #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders x reader #the bikeriders smut #austin butler smut #benny boy :')#✍🏼#toxic!benny

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jacevelaryonswife · 2 years

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I’m not your steppin’ stone

Just like the Disney tales, your love story with Jace started in a drinking contest when you almost threw up on him.

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader — Aegon’s participation.

a/n: Since I became obsessed with modern!hotd guys I thought I'd write this. Originally it would be called “I'm not your steppin' stong” because the monkees song, but I didn't think it would match. This is would be a short series (I think 💀)

warnings: alcohol and drugs consumption, curse words, fluffy and humor. +18.

“Hi, I’m Jace, but I know you know that.” He held out his hand towards you with a wide smile on his face.

“Hi Jace.” Taking his hand with a sideways smile, you said your name before repeating his earlier sentence. “But I know you know that.”

Alcohol was a funny thing. Normally Jace wasn't afraid to approach girls, he was handsome, confident and kind, but there was so much about you that intimidated him. Your posture, your beauty, your intelligence… all based on opinions taken 10 minutes ago — when you first met. Again, alcohol was a funny thing as any inhibitions that would have him not reaching out to you were completely broken when he took three shots of vodka (who had that shitty idea?). Despite your presence, your friends looked at him curiously as he approached.

You thought he was cute with his flushed cheeks, bright eyes and sweet smile, and the curls that fell over his shoulder. He was handsome and made you smile open like a teenager. Before everything starts to blur.

Oh no.

“You've probably heard this but you're so pretty and smart you'll finish college at 21 that's wow I wish I was your friend or boyf-“

Somewhere between Jade's incredibly quick words (was his name Jade?) your head turned strong and the growing sensation in your stomach made you take a few steps back.

“Ouh, I think I’m going to throw up.”

Jace stopped talking abruptly, expression mildly shocked and hurt by your rudeness. “Oh… I'm sorry if I was intrusive but if you didn't feel like me there was no need to be rude.”

"Dude, I think she's being literal." A voice behind you says, you think it’s your bestfriend Rylie. “WHERE IS THE FUCKING BATHROOM?”

"Fuck." You murmured, being dragged by him to the other room. The burning in your stomach and throat being too unbearable not to give in.

Your perception didn't catch Jace coming up behind you two or the "Oh fuck fuck fuck" he said when he understood the situation. He preempted opening the bathroom door and turning on the light, lifting the toilet seat for you. (He’s a fucking gentleman).

It was one of the most humiliating things you've ever been through in public. Lucky for you, you didn't know those people and you wouldn't see them again (most of them). The only thing you could say with propriety after being picked up by Jace and cleaned up by Rylie was:

"Don't let Aegon know about this."

The rest of the night was a blurry mess on the way home.

However, it wasn't your intention to get drunk at a major college frat party — the reason was entirely self-explanatory. However, when Cregan, your friend Sara's idiot brother, bet $50 that he could beat anyone in a drinking contest a small, sudden urge to challenge him sparked in you. A small, almost unnoticed urge. You ignored it and went back to paying attention to your friends' conversation, but another idiot named Blah Blah (you didn't remember his name) raised the bet to 100 dollars and decided that vodka would be the drink. Interesting.

"You go? It would be awesome to see Cregan's face when he loses." Sara suggested, enjoying the thought.

“Getting drunk at a frat party? No fucking way.” You replied, dismissing the idea quickly.

Although. The main factor was yet to come.

The Idiot Master and leader of the frat: Aegon.

“100? You are so cute. I bet 150 on whoever beats me.” He took $50 out of his wallet and dropped it into the glass in the center of the table. “Ladies.”

Ok, that was really attractive. Your friends practically yelled at you to go, saying they would have your back and not leave your side when (and if) you won. "We're not going to let any idiot take advantage of you." Rylie assured. The encouragement was almost suffocating, making you give in.

As you approached the edge of the round table, looking curiously into the glass and leaving twenty dollars, Aegon smiled at the sight. “Only this love, have so little faith in you?” He teased with a side smile, receiving your response in the same tone when you rested your hands on the table and tilted your head:

"I don't want to humiliate you when I win."The guys' screams almost had you rolling your eyes in amusement, keeping your gaze fixed on the blonde in front of you.

"And that's how we start the fucking drinking contest!" He yelled excitedly.

Soon, other participants began to arrive around the table, adding up to a total of six. Aegon invited his younger brother Aemond, who just declined with a "Fuck no." Blah Blah abstained from the dispute and remained as judge of the competition. A girl named Baela and a dude named Criston got together, making Aegon smile. Finally, there he was, with animated puppy eyes. His name was Jace and from what the blonde bitch said, he didn't have much resistance when it came to alcohol, but he would participate for fun. Apparently everyone at the table knew each other with exection to you.

For a short time.

Blah Blah boy took advantage of the situation to suggest a dynamic between the participants. The six will be in front of a person at the table, with whom they will share the glasses, during the competition those involved can ask and provoke each other, however, interactions can only last 10 seconds and only the person with the bottle can ask.

He was almost a genius.

Sorting out the participants, Aegon was ahead of Cregan — a little irritated that he wasn't directly competing with you, who was paired with his nephew Jace, while Criston and Baela were facing each other.

“I think you’re making it easy for her.” Kicking off the provocations before the competition, the Targaryen told Blah Blah: “Jace will clearly be the first eliminated, he's a good boy."

"Probably." The guy in front of you nodded in amusement before his eyes fell directly on you, surprised by your next attitude.

“I like good boys.” You smile was sideways and seductive, looking from Aegon to Jace. If they wanted to play, you're game.

Oh fuck.

“Then you should be against me, love.” The blonde snapped, returning the same smile to you. Before a smart answer could come out of your mouth, Jace anticipated him by fucking his uncle.

His eyes were fully on yours as he pointed with his thumb at the older boy. “I wouldn't recommend it unless you want to get oral herpes.”

Your companions and you genuinely laughed at the expense of Aegon, who was totally in the game. He was a little shit, but so was Jace in his response. You liked it. After Aegon told him to fuck off, Blah Blah began the contest. Fun fact: you hated vodka.

Aegon was the first to pour himself and tip the glass, trying to ease the grimace. "Ok princess, what's your name?"

You replied calmingly, not wanting to drop the subject. Not because of him, but being among unknown people who knew each other was a little uncomfortable. “And yours, princess?” Your tone was playful, mimicking him.

The confused expression on the older Targaryen's face was definitely not the "princess", but the fact that you didn't know him. This made Cregan smile outright before tipping his glass and saying, "This is going to be fun."

Taking the bottle from his friend's hand, Jace — who was totally interested in knowing about you — filled the glass and made a complete face as he drank the vodka. You didn't spare the little smile at his reaction, which encouraged him to ask:

"What course do you study? Are you a freshman?”

Usually frat parties attracted the same group of people, but not everyone was there out of habit. Jace didn't usually go to all the parties, and he was pretty sure you didn't either. He didn't know why, he just felt it.

“I'm a senior undergraduate in agronomy, I'm almost finishing actually.” You answered.

“Uh, what-what does a professional in your field do?”

It was a common question for you, but very difficult to answer in less than 10 seconds (that's what you said to the Velaryon boy before Blah Blah ended the interactions time). It was your round, and as you didn't intend to embarrass yourself in front of the guys and girl, you calmly poured the vodka into the glass and drank it as if you were drinking water, no grimaces showing. How you hated vodka.

Sending Aegon a knowing look before the others could smirk at your attitude, you glanced at the guy on your right, Criston. "You really don't seem to attend frat parties." He looked mature and older than the other guys and girls, which caught your attention. You didn't want to be around a possible perv who only dates freshman girls.

“I don't actually attend, I'm grad student and I just wanted to see how the guys are doing.” He replied in a soft voice.

Ahh.

Passing the bottle to the girl with white hair and the almost mischievous smile who drank it quickly, with a brief grimace. “So Aeg, what's it like not to be recognized by a girl?”

The entire table shared her mood, smiling again at the blonde's expense.

“It is really devastating. I feel like a part of my heart has been stabbed by forgetfulness.” He scoffed in a serious tone, causing Aemond to huff as he walked past to grab something from the fridge. “Criston.” He pointed at the guy next to him. “Do the honors.”

With a grimace similar to Baela's, Criston drank and was calm in picking up the bottle and drinking the vodka, passing it to Aegon. “You’re a jerk.” He said.

“Why is everyone attacking me? Just because I'm going to win?" The Targaryen complained smugly, filling the small glass to the brim. “Agronomy girl, how old are you?”

“20.”

“What? And you are already finishing?” Jace asked out of turn, genuinely surprised.

“I will end up with twen-.” At the same moment you answered. Blah Blah interrupted the interaction.

"Dude, you can't talk when you don't have the bottle!”

“Sorry. What? Why not? You said whoever has the bottle can ask, but you didn't limit who can answer.” Jace complained, feeling warm from the drink.

“I… Okay, new rule: anyone not mentioned can't speak!”

“What if I want to mention someone outside of the conversation, can that person speak up?”

When I said that Blah Blah was almost a genius, I was exaggerating. You could really see the effort he was making to think, deciding that yes, fuck it, you can talk.

"So Jace, I'm going to end up with 21 actually." Your answer was not interrupted this time.

“How?”

“TIME IS OVER, NEXT!”

Jace was actually the first to leave the competition, with only three shots of vodka. He was red and hot, his head already started to spin a little. It was totally fun actually and he was totally into you. Damn it, you were savage and seductive, but also smooth. The alcohol was probably clouding his judgment, but he knew he needed your number. That's why even after self-eliminating, the Elder Velaryon continued around.

As the rounds went by, he got bolder and gradually got behind you. Normally he wouldn't dare so much (what the fuck was in that vodka?) but he knew there was a possibility that Aegon might try something on you, so his hand landed on your back as he whispered into your hair, close to your ear: “Defeat his ass, princess.”

You felt that. Turning to face him with a naughty smile and whispering on his lips: “Your request is an order.”

Oh fuck. He totally felt that too.

When the urge to pee and sit momentarily was too much to support, Jace went to the bathroom and spent a short time there, laughing about how funny the light was (maybe he shouldn't have tried marijuana before either).

At the end of the competition when Cregan was defeated, only Aegon and you were left at the table. Your badass posture had already been shaken and when you took the seventh shot it was hard to disguise the bitter grimace because of the ardor in your stomach and throat. Okay, maybe you were praying he would fold because you sure as hell couldn't take two more shots. If this worked? Aegon turned to vomit into the sink behind him. Holy fuck.

“Fuck, you're tough.” He admitted as he turned back to face you. “I fucking give up.” He almost laughed when he put his hands on the table and you swear you heard the screams of your friends and other people. A smile radiated across your face as you let yourself relax and take the money from the center of the table.

"Thanks love." You imitated him previously, clearly affected by alcohol. Your friends arrived behind you, where they never fully left.

He chuckled at your tone, nearly leaning across the table. "I'll bet you $50 that you'll be throwing up by the end of the night."

"I doubt it."

And here you were, held to your feet by Rylie and Jace as you slipped out of the bathroom. After Blah Blah yelled that you were his cool new friend, you left the party carried by your friends and the handsome brunette looking at you with worried eyes. "I'm fine." You assured, smiling drunk and happy.

“Can you let me know when you get home? To find out if she's okay." Jace asked your friend, grabbing his Instagram before watching him go. He wasn't proud of searching your account for your friend's, but fuck it, you only live once. And he sure wanted to see you again.

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