#V oneshot

[jooheonspinky]

A Cage, a Wizard, and a Potion

Genre: Fantasy!au, angst

Characters: Jin x Female Reader, ft Taehyung

Word Count: 7.3K

Synopsis: The Duchess kept a beautiful gilded cage in her private bed chambers. On a visit with your mother, you happen upon this novelty whilst lost in your aunt’s palace. What you discover in the cage not only shocks you but has you making a vow that you are not able to fulfill until many years later.

A/N: This was written using a challenge from ARMY Amino titled My Fantasy World. My screenshots were Witch/Wizard, Potion, Palace, which I included in my moodboard. These had to be included in the story. I did not get to finish this by my original date goal of Sept 13, which fell on a Friday as I got stuck on how to end it. But this week, I finally got inspiration and was able to finish it for 1. Martes 13, which is similar to Friday the 13th 2. just in time for Jin's departure to fulfill his military service. It's a bittersweet day, and I wish him to stay safe and healthy during his time away from us.

I hope you enjoy this piece. Feel free to leave a comment, heart, and please reblog if you like it.

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Wandering the halls of the vastly magnificent palace, you do your best to ignore the pinching of your dress shoes as you walk across the shiny marbled flooring. The cumbersome dress rustles with every step, the sound amplified by the vast ceilings above. You are in search of the library in hopes of easing your boredom. Mother would be entertained for hours with your aunt, the Duchess. They had not seen each other in nearly two years; therefore, they had much to catch up on. A good book would help pass the time. 

Stopping, you frown as you glance about. 

Nothing looks familiar since the last time you visited. You are quite certain you must have taken a wrong turn. Curse these painful shoes. They muddled your thinking process, to be sure. Nothing left to do but turn back and try a different way. 

The sound of the most beautiful voice you have ever heard stops you from taking another step. The notes draw you closer to the door nearest you. As quietly as possible, you turn the knob and push it slowly open. The singing is louder now without the barrier to block the soulful tones. You are only ten and one, but you are familiar with sadness, and this voice is full of it. 

Your heart tightens as you step further into the room, engulfing yourself in the thick blanket of gloom that fills the space. Tears sting your eyes, and you find you have to fight to swallow past the lump forming in your throat as you reach the center of the room. As you stand there trying to calm your emotions, you notice the scent of your aunt is all around you. 

This must be her private chambers! you gasp inwardly.

Hastening to back out as your mind registers the information, your eyes fall on a cage next to her bed. It is there that the singing is coming from!

The beautiful cage sparkles as you approach it, the candles in the room glinting off every surface they touch. Inside is a small being sitting on a patch of grass, legs drawn up, arms encircling his knees as he sings. His tiny eyes are closed, and his head is tilted slightly down as if it was just too difficult a task to hold it up anymore.

Swallowing thickly, you gather your courage and call out, “Hello?”

He startles, the beautiful melody instantaneously cut off as he stands up abruptly. You almost regret speaking up, already missing the sound of his singing.

You should be scared, you suppose, but instead, you are intrigued. Is he a fairy your aunt has captured and trapped in the ornate cage? If so, you only feel pity for the small creature. A fairy should never be locked up in such a constricting space.

“Hi,” he replies in trepidation as you kneel before him. His minuscule hands encircle the bars as he gazes at you in wonder. “You’re a child like me….”

You grin, “Well, I am a child, but we are not alike at all.”

A giggle escapes your lips, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. His own lips quirk up, wholly amused by your candidness.

“I dare say you are correct,” he laughs. “Are you the daughter of the Duke and Duchess?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head. “I am Lady Y/N Y/LN, daughter of the Earl and Countess. My mother, the Countess, is here visiting her sister, the Duchess.”

“I see,” he nods. “It is nice to meet another person, Lady Y/N. My name is Seokjin.”

“It is nice to make your acquaintance, Lord Seokjin.”

Standing swiftly, you offer the most nicely executed curtsy you have ever offered.

“Please, no,” he urges you to straighten. “I am no Lord and do not deserve such a gesture. You can just call me Jin.”

“Well, then,” you say as you straighten. “If I am to be so informal with you, then I expect the same. You may just call me Y/N.”

The boy appears to be not but a few years older than you. How long had he been locked up in the cage?

“Very well,” he nods, breaking into your thoughts. “Have you come to free me, Y/N?”

Your brows rise. Free him? Could you dare? Were you even capable of it? The cage was half your size, after all. There was no way you could carry that out of the room and into the family carriage, much less in a discreet manner.

“I…” You begin, but stop yourself. Were it you in a cage, you would want someone to help you as well. You stare at the plump-lipped boy with a mop of hair the shade of the inside of a pumpkin and instead say, “I could try.” Looking around the object encasing him, you find that while there is a door, the door requires a key to open it. “Do you know where the key is?”

“The Duchess,” he sighs as he sits back down on the grass. “She keeps it upon her person.”

“Oh,” you frown, your shoulders sagging. “There must be another way.”

Nibbling at your lower lip, it takes you a few moments before your eyes light up.

“What?” he asks at the sudden change.

“Move back,” you instruct. “I’m going to pull the bars apart.”

“Aye.”

He smiles, and you wonder if you have ever seen any other being more handsome than he. Your cheeks warm at the thought, and you brush at them with the back of your hands as if that would make the rouge splotches across them disappear. The boy moves to the back of the cage, oblivious to your frazzled state. 

Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly as you slip your fingers between the thin bars. You pull with all your might, gritting your teeth as you tug. Your arms tremble with the effort, but whatever material was used to construct the cage proves much stronger than your eleven-year-old underdeveloped muscles. The bars do not even budge a millimeter.

“I cannot pull it apart,” you lament. 

He draws closer, reaching out toward you. Palm up turned, you bring it towards him and watch as he places his wee hand on your index finger. 

“It’s ok. You tried,” he reassures.

You stare at the size difference and shake your head in amazement.

“Where did you even come from?” you whisper in awe.

He retreats to the center of the cage, his shoulders shrugging as he shakes his head, “I do not remember.”

“It’s ok,” you smile warmly at him. “I shall do what I can to release you, and then we can figure it out together. Is that ok?”

The forlorn look on his face brightens as he nods, “I would like that very much.”

“Well, then, Jin,” you square your shoulders in confidence. “I am going to go out there and see what I can find that could open this cage. I shall return swiftly.”

“And I shall wait here,” he replies back, the hope in his eyes tugging at your young heart.

With a quick nod, you dash to the door, turning one last time to look at the little boy in the gilded cage. He waves at you, and you give him an enthusiastic wave back before you step out into the brightness of the hallway. You hear the patter of feet from around the corner, so you close the door as swiftly and quietly as you can and step further into the center of the hallway just as a servant rounds the corner. 

“There ya are, young Lady Y/N!” she tsks in relief. “Were you not supposed to have headed straight fer the library, little one?”

“Aye,” you nod vigorously. “I seem to have been turned around. Nothing looks familiar.”

“That ya did,” she nods as she steps beside you. “You did not open this door, did ya?”

Slipping a hand behind your back; you cross your fingers as you fib, “Oh, definitely not. I have only just reached this area a few moments before you.”

“Well, that’s a good girl,” she smiles in relief. “Let’s go on then. I shall take ye to the library. A staff will bring you in some tea and a light mid-day meal.”

You follow as she begins to walk back the way you had initially come, your mind already racing with thoughts of how to escape her watch. You ponder where you can get a tool to help you open the lock on the cage. For hours this is all that occupies your mind, though, in the end, it is all for naught. 

You are never given the opportunity to leave her sight. And when your mother summons you to be brought to her, you have to fight down the panic as she announces it is time to head home. Heart in your throat, you enter the carriage, your eyes wide as you can only think to yourself that he is going to believe you purposely left him behind.

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Years later

Time went on in a manner you had never anticipated. Though you had not truly forgotten the boy in the cage, life had become tragedy and mourning one after another for the past seven years. Your mind became preoccupied with assisting with the affairs at home. First, you took care of your mother after losing your sibling shortly after birth. Your father then grew ill a year later and passed. Your mother was devastated by losing two loved ones so close in time. She sequestered herself in your home, not wanting to leave or see anyone. 

So while you never visited the Duchess in her home again, she came for both funerals, though she could never stay long. You never dared ask about the wee boy, for then she would know you had been in her chambers. And now, just after your eighteenth birthday, your mother has joined your father and your baby sibling on the other side, leaving you behind and alone in the world.

This time, when the Duke and Duchess come to help with the funeral arrangements, they bring you back to their home after the burial. They take you in as their own until they can find you a husband as you are well past your marrying age.

It is only now that you are tucked in, eyes wide and mind racing as you lie in your new bed chamber, that you are reminded of the tiny boy in the cage. You wonder if he is still there, locked away and hidden from the world. Had he aged as you have? Grown in stature as you have, or was he still a tiny creature forever trapped in a little boys form? 

Or…had that all been a daydream? Had it just been a young girl's overactive imagination conjuring up a fantastical creature to stifle her boredom, your mind simply misremembering the entire event? Whatever the case, you were back in the home where said creature had been held. You could check for yourself if any of that had indeed been real.

Throwing your covers off your body, you slip out of bed and place your ear to the door. You sneak out into the hallway when you hear no sounds and are confident that most of those in the palace have all gone to sleep. Though dim, you are grateful to find the passageway towards your destination is still illuminated by various sconces with flickering candles lighting the way. 

Your slippered feet make barely a sound as you reach the Duchess’s chambers. Again, you find yourself with your ear pressed to a door. Holding in your breath, you listen as voices murmur behind it. The wood absorbs most of the sounds, but you can make out your aunt’s voice.

“Seokjin, darling,” she is saying. “Please sing me one of your beautiful ballads to soothe my aching heart, for my dear sister has departed from us, and I miss her terribly.”

Tears well in your eyes, and you cover your mouth as a ragged breath escapes you, a sob threatening to spill forth.

You miss your mother. There were hugs you were still meant to be given, words of encouragement you had yet to hear, and what of the smile she would wear holding your own little one in the distant future? But you would never get to feel her embrace, nor would her voice grace your ears ever again and the thought that your future offspring would never get to meet their amazing grandmother made everything hurt even more. 

As your heart clenches, you hear him, your little friend, Jin. He is real, after all! No figment of your imagination. He begins to sing a soulful song that has your hand pressing more firmly against your mouth. His voice is so beautiful, even with the barrier of the door muting some of the notes. The timbre of his voice speaks of years of practice. There is no shakiness to it whatsoever. Each word is strong, sure. There is confidence as the melody flows effortlessly from his lips. 

Unable to bear the anguish anymore, you run back to your room, burying yourself beneath the duvet. You finally let the tears fall as you sob into your pillow. You had lost your family, and atop it all, you felt a crushing sense of guilt. Guilt for never having returned to see Seokjin. And though you could never get your family back while still in this world, you would do what you could in order to finally rescue the boy in the gilded cage, fulfilling that childhood promise you’d made so fervently long ago.

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For several nights you sit outside your Aunt’s chambers, listening to Jin sing for her. You run through various strategies on how to help him escape, working them in your mind in hopes that one will be fail-safe. Whatever the plan, one constant always stood in the way.

The Duchess.

She has no set schedule that you have noticed. You could never know when she would be in her rooms or when she would stay with the Duke. This made it extremely difficult to sneak into her chambers. The longer time passed, the more guilty you felt.

About a week after you move in, you awake, and after dressing, you go in search of the kitchens. It’s early morn yet, the sun only just beginning to creep over the horizon. Nevertheless, there is already movement within the palace walls as the servants prep for a new day. As you approach the kitchen area, you halt at the conversation taking place.

“...the Wizard,” a servant woman is saying.

“The Wizard?” another servant woman gasps. “Do you mean Taehyung the Wizard of Hollow Woods?” You peek around the corner to see a young woman nod at the inquiry. “Celene, have you lost your mind?!” she whisper-shouts. “Nothing good can come of it.”

Celene’s head hangs low, “But you know I have wanted a child of my own for so long, Tia. He promised if I add a few drops of this potion into my tea once a day every evening for a week’s time, I shall become with child.”

Grabbing her hand and squeezing them desperately, Tia demands, “But at what cost?”

You turn back and head towards the front doors, the idea of breaking your fast wholly gone from your mind. You had one mission in mind: to seek out this Wizard the servants had spoken to. Despite the warning Tia had issued, you wonder how bad can the repercussions be if Celene had accepted the potion anyway. Your hope is that he has something that can help you with freeing Jin.

By the time you reach the forest, the sun has completely breached the horizon. The forest is alight with golden patches from rays slipping through the leaves above you. You follow the paths cut into the ground from the constant traveling made through the area. Vague memories of walking these very woods with your father when you were much, much younger surface the longer you walk. You continue until sometime later you reach a wooden structure. You remember passing this once upon a time and your father’s stern warning to stay away, though he never specified why.

Your hands fist as you approach the door, your heart heavy with shame for disobeying your father after all these years. Squaring your shoulders, you push the sad feelings aside and focus on the want to help a friend. You rap your knuckles against the rotting wood and wonder how the structure has not fallen over yet. There is no response, but the door creaks open when you reach up to knock again.

“Hello?” you call as you push the door open further and step over the threshold. 

You jump as the door closes behind you on its own. Looking around, you are awe-struck at what you see. The dark wood flooring and walls absorb most of the light, but the illumination from the windows is enough to make out everything that surrounds you.

Everything inside was well taken care of. There was no mistaking someone lived here and kept up with the place. Though small, there was a furnished living room as well as a kitchen area. A hallway led to what you could only assume were bedrooms.

Freezing in place, your hand splays across your chest in surprise as a figure appears from the shadows of the same hallway you had just glanced upon.

“Welcome,” a baritone voice calls to you.

A black cloak with golden embroidering around the edges clings to his head and shoulders like a shadow, obscuring most of his face.

Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Are you…are you Taehyung the Wizard?”

Pushing the hood back, he nods, “Aye.”

“Oh, wow-well,” you clear your throat. 

Stunned by his face, your cheeks instantly heat up. The Wizard does not look as you had expected. You were quite certain he would have been much older, his hair white with age and skin wrinkled from the traveling he would have done through the years to obtain his knowledge to further his craft. But no. Not Taehyung. He is…. You blink as you try to ponder a word that would describe the man drawing closer to you. 

His dark hair, thick with loose curls that cover his forehead, skims just over his eyes. He makes no attempt to move it away. The eyes that cling to yours are wise and full of so much knowledge; they contradict the youthfulness of his face. Four tiny gems, three black and one white, are adhered to his skin just beneath his eyes in a vertical line and they glint with each step he takes. Taehyung is lean and tall, so when he finally comes to rest before you, you have to crane your neck way up to meet his gaze. You swear you can feel the magic and power ebbing from his body, and it makes your skin thrum uncomfortably. The face you stare up into is one of such handsomeness and beauty combined; he could be called ethereal. It truly felt as if he was not of this world. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He quirks an amused eyebrow at you. “Perhaps I should take a step back.”

It’s not a question, and the smirk on his face is enough to brighten your cheeks even more. As he moves away from you two paces, you feel your head clear a bit.

Straightening your back, you tilt your chin up, hoping you appear more confident than you really feel. “I have come seeking assistance in freeing someone.”

His eyes watch you as you fidget with your hands. Trying to keep from showing any more nervousness in front of him, you bury them deep into the folds of your skirts. 

“And how may I help with that?” his arms extend out, palms up, in question. “I cannot conjure up tools for you, my dearest. You may go to a blacksmith for that service.”

Brows drawn low, you sigh, “While that is true, it is not a tool I seek, Wizard. My aunt, she holds the key, and I mean this in literal terms. She carries it around her neck always. Is there something you can provide to help me obtain it from her?”

Tilting his head, Taehyung the Wizard queries, “Can you not simply ask her for it?”

Sighing, you admit, “Well, while that would be the easiest route to take, I cannot simply ask her, sir, for I am not even supposed to know this person is sequestered in her chambers. Therefore, if I ask for the key, then she will know I know, and I fear what will happen to him.”

“Him?” Taehyung purrs.

Your eyes widen at the tone, and you stammer, “No, no, tis nothing like that. He is a friend I wish to help. That is all and nothing more.”

He cocks his head, offering a simple, “Very well then. Come and sit. Refresh yourself with a bit of water as I gather some ingredients.”

Your gaze follows his outstretched hand that is pointing to a wooden table decorated with random symbols. Magic was so foreign to you, and you could feel your heart pulsing nervously at the base of your throat as you approached the offered chair.

As you finally take a seat, Taehyung pulls a wooden stick from his robes. You watch his lips as he murmurs and moves it slowly in a pattern. Letting out a gasp, you can only sit frozen as a pitcher of water floats through the air on its way to you, a bamboo cup not too far behind. Even as the Wizard turns to forage through his various jars and bottles, the pitcher continues moving, tipping some of its contents into the cup before coming to rest casually at the center of the table. You stare, eyes round as saucers, much too afraid to move. The pitcher hops three times when you make no move to accept its offering, pulling you from your stupor. You reach out a trembling hand. Taking the cup, you bring it to your lips, your eyes hesitant to leave that of the pitcher for fear of it attacking you.

The Wizard returns moments later, coming between you and the magical pitcher. His arms are full of various ingredients and containers. Lying them on the table, he leaves again, only to return with a mortar and pestle in one hand and an iron pot in the other. While he leaves the mortar and pestle near himself, he sets the small cauldron in the center of the table and then looks at you with a dazzling smile.

“More water?” he hums.

Gulping audibly, you shake your head, “Nay, thank you.”

With a flick of the wrist, the pitcher and cup float away and out of the room. 

Sitting down, he reaches out toward you, saying, “Hand, please.”

You place your palm onto his palm, and then he sets his other hand atop yours. His eyes close, his lips moving as hushed words spill from between them. There is warmth gathering around your hand the longer he holds it, a heaviness pushing down on your shoulders, and you fight the urge to pull free from his grasp.

Eyes opening up, Taehyung simply says, “Ok.”

“Okay?” you parrot. 

Okay, what? You wonder as you settle, confused eyes on him.

“I have gathered some of your energy, your intentions, let's call it,” he explains. Then, hovering over the pot, he brushes one hand over the other and repeats it with the other as if he is wringing off water from them. “This essence will be mixed with the ingredients I add.”

“Oh.”

You settle back in your chair, watching him intently as he adds various dry herbs and powders into the mortar. Once satisfied, the Wizard mashes and grinds all the ingredients with the pestle before dropping the finely ground mixture into the pot. Afterward, he uncorks three bottles of varying colors and pours some into the pot as well. Stirring everything together, he then adds two spoonfuls of honey before scooping it all and adding it into a blue bottle.

The Wizard Taehyung hands you the bottle. “It’s done. You have two doses here in case there is an issue the first time.”

“Thank you,” you bow, accepting the bottle. “May I trouble you for one more?” He cocks a brow at you, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Uh, the boy. An elixir or potion to make him human size again.”

That arched brow grows ever higher, and you feel yourself grow smaller.

“Are you certain he was ever human?” he counters.

“He has no wings, and he very much looks like you and me, just very, very small,” you wonder, now suddenly feeling uncertain.

“I can make such a potion,” he finally replies after staring at you contemplatively, a coy smile on his lips.

“You can?” You beam. “Please. I can pay.”

You produce several coins and drop them on the wooden table. Taehyung accepts them and does not hesitate to leave with the pot to clean it. He places it at the center of the table before returning to his apothecary. It’s not long before he’s back with an amber vial this time. Holding it between his fingers, he brings it up, the liquid inside sloshing ever slightly as he presents it to you.

“Rub a small amount on your lips,” he begins. “Then he must drink the remainder. Be sure it is every last drop. Understood?”

“Aye,” you nod.

“Last, a kiss to seal in the spell.”

“A…a kiss?” you swallow thickly, your fingers touching your lips at the scandalizing thought of committing such an act out of wedlock.

“Aye. And it is of utmost importance that it is fulfilled, or he will return to his miniature stature within six hours time.”

Face a flush with warmth, you assure, “I will be sure all steps are completed.”

“Here you go.”

You take the small vial and tuck it into your skirts along with the bottle.

“A million times thank you,” you bow as he escorts you outside.

He merely nods, closing the door once you have crossed the threshold. What a strange person, you muse as you start the walk back to the palace. 

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It is another few days before you finally gather the nerve to execute your plan. When you meet with the Duchess in the tea room for your evening tea, you make sure to arrive before her. After the maid leaves the tray of hot water, tea bags, and dainty crackers, you anxiously pull the bottle the Wizard had given you out of your skirts and pour half of the contents into your aunt's cup, sighing with relief when it comes out clear. You are just pouring the water over the tea bag when she comes in.

“Niece,” she smiles affectionately as she enters, and you feel guilt settle in your stomach.

“Duchess,” you greet her while offering her a deep curtsy as she approaches you.

Your aunt kisses each of your cheeks before settling down with her tea. You grab your own and sit across her, the crackling of the fire filling the momentary silence. 

“The nights are ever getting cooler,” she speaks.

“Aye,” you agree as you take a sip of the steaming liquid.

You swallow thickly as you await for her to do the same.

“Soon, the winter balls will begin,” you watch as she drinks daintily from her cup, and you feel your heart quicken. “I shall have your measurements taken and dresses made.” “Oh, you do not need to go to the trouble of-” 

“Hush now,” she tsks, taking another swallow. “This will be a perfect time as any to have your coming out. Not that your uncle and I are trying to rid ourselves of you,” she assures.

“Fret not,” you chuckle nervously. “I think no such thing and am grateful for all you have done since taking me in.”

The Duchess smiles, impressed by your words, and leans over to pick up a cracker.

“Oh,” she murmurs, closing her eyes.

Is it possible for the potion to be working so quickly? She had only taken a small sip or two.

The blood rushing through your body pounds much too loudly in your ears and your voice sounds muffled to you as you query, “Is everything a’right?”

She laughs dismissively, “Yes, dear.”

The Duchess munches pensively on the cracker before washing it down with a dredge of tea. Sweat beads at your upper lip, and you promptly set your tea cup down as the china begins to clatter against the saucer, your traitorous hands refusing to be still. Unsure of how long it would take for the full effects to take over, you try to bring the conversation back.

“Have you already received invitations for any balls?”

You hope your voice sounds steady, hope she does not conclude that it is you that has tricked her.

“I …well…I do…” Her words are slightly slurred, and she shakes her head as if trying to clear the fog forming there. “Niece, I must excuse myself. I am unsure what has come over me. I do apologize.”

“There is no need to apologize.”

The Duchess stands, and you do the same.

“Good night, dear,” she mumbles, and you curtsy as she exits the room.

Sighing heavily, you leave to your room, taking the time to locate your warmest cloak. As your aunt had mentioned, the nights had started to become cooler. Restlessly you pace your room, running over the plan to be sure you have everything covered.

First, you would head into your aunt’s chambers. By then, she would be deep in slumber, and you could remove the key from her neck. Then you would unlock the cage and have Seokjin jump into your satchel. Lastly, you would make your way to the back, sneaking past the gardens and into the woods.

It sounded simple yet terrifying at the same time.

You glance out of the window, finding the yard empty just as the clock tolled the eleventh hour. Sucking in a deep breath, you open your room door. By now, the majority of the staff that took care of the palace would be in the servants' quarters, beginning their rest before they had to rise bright and early the next morn. You took the same path you had already memorized straight to your aunt's chambers. Just like the various nights you had gone there, no one shows up to stop you.

Reaching her door, you pause a moment to listen. Complete silence. This was it. Without further hesitation, you turn the knob. The door is quiet as you push it open. Inside the room, you are grateful to see there is a single candle burning softly at the Duchess’ bedside.

You glance around the room, and your breath catches as your eyes land on the golden cage not too far from the bed. The little being had grown and was no longer the scraggly thin, shaggy-haired boy you remembered. In his place stood a young man with a face that was undoubtedly kissed by the gods; it was that handsome to gaze upon. The orange-hued locks atop his head were now neatly combed, providing the perfect frame for that celestial face. 

“Jin,” you breathe, all other words having dissolved on your tongue.

He grips the bars tightly as he tilts his head back slightly to gaze upon you better.

“Y/N?” he queries softly. You nod vigorously. “I feared you had forgotten about me years ago.”

“Nay,” you draw closer. “There is no time for chatter now. Let me get the key.”

“But-” Jin sputters in disbelief, and you place a finger on your lips before turning around.

Your aunt’s soft snores greet you as you lean over her. Holding your breath, you reach for the thin chain around her neck. Searching for the clasp, you are able to release the breath when you find it, and the key easily falls onto your hand. The Duchess never even moves during the entire process, and you throw up a prayer of thanks.

Wasting no time, you unlock the cage and hold open your satchel.

“Come,” you urge Jin towards you. “I think it is better if you are in here.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out to the forest,” you shrug. “I will change you, and then we can search for your family. Remember? That’s what I promised to do.”

Jin frowns, “I remember, but-”

“We do not have time at this moment,” you interrupt him again. “We must make haste as I am uncertain as to how long the sleeping potion will keep my aunt in slumber.”

“Right then.”

With that, he clambers into the satchel, and you leave the room, closing the door quietly. On you walk, your heart pounding a furious thrum behind your ribs as you reach the outside. Everything looks vastly different at night than in the glow of the sun. The torches illuminating the path to the gardens offer a sense of security, and you follow them as you get further and further from the palace. No one stops you, and when you reach the garden maze, you snatch up the last torch and meander around the outside of the maze until you are finally in the cover of the trees. Breathing a sigh of relief, you continue to walk until you feel you are far enough away.

“I think it safe to stop and do the spell or ritual or whatnot before we continue on,” you pause as you look down at Jin.

“Ok,” he meets your gaze. “What do we have to do?”

You feel yourself flush, and you turn to busy yourself with sticking the torch into the cool dirt of the thick forest.

“Well, uhm…” you start. “I am to apply some of the liquid to my lips; then you are to drink it all….”

You trail off, finding it difficult to relay the last bit of the ritual.

“Sounds easy enough,” Jin grins. “I dare say it will probably be better if I am on the ground for that second part.”

“Oh, uh, aye,” you agree. “But there is just one more step….”

“Another step?” he asks as you kneel in order to bring the satchel to the ground.

He steps out and looks up at you expectantly.

“The wizard stressed that we must kiss for the potion to work fully. If not, you will return to your small stature within a few hours.”

“A kiss?” Jin presses his lips together as if trying to hide an amused smile.

“Aye.”

Jin pats your knee reassuringly, “Worry not. We are out in the middle of the woods. If it is your reputation you are in fear for, I do not think anyone, but you and I will ever know.”

Sighing, you nod, “You are right.”

It was not the only thing that worried you. This would be your first kiss, and you never imagined it would occur in such a manner. Pulling the vile from the bag, you pop off the cork and cover the opening with your index finger. A murky green liquid coats the pad of your finger, and you rub it onto your bottom lip, repeating the application to your upper lip. You help Jin hold the vile as he begins to drink. Within minutes the glass tube is empty, and Jin frowns, his olive green lips making the gesture a bit comical.

“I fear; I forgot to ask how long it-”

A loud gasp from Jin has you falling back onto your bottom. He groans, his arms wrapping around his abdomen.

“Ahh!” he growls, his head falling back in agony.

You can only watch in awe and horror as the little being commences to grow and grow and grow before your eyes. His clothing does not follow the same process, and you watch as the seems rip and his shoes tear as his toes popped through. Seokjin grits his teeth, trying to keep quiet as his stature becomes taller than you within minutes. 

Crumpling to the cold earth, Jin shakes and trembles as he curls into a ball, his tattered clothes doing nothing to cover the lean muscle of his torso. His broad shoulders and immense span of his back glisten with sweat, and his strong legs twitch as his toes flex. Rising swiftly, you remove your cloak and place it over him, wanting to provide him some privacy as well as protection from the frigid night air.

“Jin?” you whisper, and your breath puffs white as it drifts off on the soft breeze.

 “I am fine,” he says through chattering teeth. “Please, help me up.”

Using one hand to pinch the cloak closed around him, you assist him in standing on his feet. Jin is a sight to see. As a small creature, he had been incredibly attractive, pretty almost. But now, as he towers over you, you feel intimidated by how handsome he really is, even with his nakedness tucked into the warmth of your mantle. 

“I should have brought garments for you….” you wince apologetically, casting your eyes to the ground.

He lets out a chuff of amusement.

“It would have been nice,” he admits. “But you knew naught this would occur.”

“Did not even cross my mind,” you admit with a shake of your head. “So… should we, you know, finish this?”

The corners of his plush lips tilt up just as you shift your gaze to his face.

“Let’s,” he steps closer to you. “But first, I want to know why you came back for me after all this time. You could have just left me there, in that cage, to live my life only to sing whenever your aunt ordered me to.”

“I made a promise,” you shrug. “I am deeply sorry it took me this long to fulfill it. I truly had thought I could release you that same day when I was just a child. I never did forget you and vowed I would come for you no matter how long it would take me.”

“Thank you,” he smiles, his eyes glistening. Leaning ever closer, his lips are but a breath away as he whispers words in a tongue you are unfamiliar with. 

“What?”

“Forgive me,” he voices much louder.

Regret replaces the softness in his eyes. Before you can react and question his words, his lips press against yours, and you inhale sharply. It is a tender kiss that has your brain turning to mush and your knees to jelly. You feel the push of magic, the warmth of it tingling across your mouth as Jin pulls away a few beats later. His hands grasp your upper arms, holding you up as you feel yourself grow numb. You briefly take note that his lips are no longer tinged green, but then panic washes over you as you try to move and find you cannot.

Footsteps over long-since dead leaves brings your attention to the right. Your eyes shift towards the sound, and you wonder why they can still move when nothing else will. The sight of the person emerging from the darkness has you confused but elated at the same time. You try to tell him with your eyes that you need help. That something went wrong with the spell.

Jin sets you down gently against a tree, and you watch in confusion as the Wizard Taehyung tosses Jin a bag. He catches it easily and begins to pull clothing and shoes from within it. Realization starts to dawn on you, and you cannot even scream out your rage at the betrayal.

“Y/N, such a gullible girl,” the Wizard tsks. “I have waited so long for someone like you. You almost tempted me when you came to see me.” Squatting down in front of you, you glare at him as he speaks. “I could have taken your essence then. Gods, that small taste I got almost broke me, but I needed you to perform this last selfless act. Do you know why, Y/N?”

You cannot answer, but he knows this. Jin appears behind him, fully dressed now.

“Are we ready?” Jin asks his tone hard.

Taehyung glares over his shoulders, “Not yet.” Turning his attention back to you, he continues. “You are filled with such pureness. Your selfless act for Seokjin enhanced your essence; it purified it even more. This essence will add so many more years to us and keep us young for quite some time. Do you know how old I am, Y/N? No? Well, you are looking at someone who is over seven hundred years old.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. 

“That’s right,” the Wizard Taehyung grins. The face you had once thought so beautiful now looks terrifying. The gems on his face that sparkle with the light from the torch does nothing to brighten the dark, menacing eyes that pin you to your spot. “People like you are what keep me alive and thriving. Jin is my way in. My bait, if you will. He really is so hard to resist with his divine voice and handsome face. I plan on keeping him for many generations to come.”

Your mind feels overwhelmed by all that is happening. Jin is in on this, too? You could not accept that.

“I had my ways of communicating with him even from the Duchess’ chambers. I waited, biding my time for the day that someone as special as you would come. He told me about you, you know? How he felt this spark the day you met. I knew at that moment I had to have you. Do you know why you are so special?” Taehyung leans forward, clutching your chin roughly in his hand. “Because despite all the tragedies that have befallen you, you still carry only love in that wretched heart of yours. That is what holds the magic longer within me. Now, just sit back and relax.”

You can do nothing as he releases your chin  only to clasp your hand between his. Eyes closed, he begins to murmur words in the same language Jin had spoken earlier. Almost instantly, you can feel the warmth of magic as he begins to siphon your energy. You look up at Jin, pleading and begging even as you can’t move.

Finding no help there, you look down to see your arms aging before your eyes. What was happening?!

Jin’s hand lands firmly on Taehyung’s shoulder, and he quiets. 

“Is it truly crucial to kill her?” 

Taehyung laughs, “Oh, Jinnie, Jinnie.” His eyes rake over you before he yanks you towards him, his face hardening. “Seems you are in luck today, dearie. Guess I am not as much in the killing mood this night as I thought.” The Wizard Taehyung releases you, letting you roughly fall back against the tree as he stands. Grabbing Jin’s wrists, Taehyung begins to chant, and you know he is giving Jin some of your essence as well. Once finished, he dusts his robes, commanding,  “Now let’s go.”

The Wizard walks away toward where he had initially appeared. Jin takes the cloak you had covered him in earlier, and he tucks it in around you.

“The spell will wear off in a few hours,” he tells you. “I truly am sorry. I wanted it to be different this time… ”

“Seokjin!” you both hear the impatient bark of Taehyung.

Cupping your now wrinkled and weathered cheek, Jin drops a kiss on the top of your head before standing. You observe him follow behind the Wizard. As you watch him disappear, a burning tear slips down your cheek, and you make a new vow. This time you vow to find Taehyung and kill him. 

Even if it is the last thing, you ever do.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

[say-al0e]

Electric Touch

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: Following your marriage to Prince Aemond, you did not imagine there would be a bedding ceremony. Nor did you imagine yourself falling so quickly for the one-eyed prince. But you quickly learned he was more than met the eye. | Ft. Anon request for "“What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?” + “Love makes you weak but, god, I’d rather be weak with you by my side than face a life without you.” Warnings: Bedding ceremony, PinV, guarded Aemond, Aegon is an asshole (briefly, then he's gone), one mention of death in childbirth (not graphic, very brief), allusion to Aemond's brothel trip. Anything I missed, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader (wife!Reader) Word Count: 5.1k Requests are Open | HotD Taglist

The fire blazing in Aemond’s eye was not what you expected. It was not fueled by desire, a lust for his new bride or the exciting conquest of claiming your maidenhead as you’d long been warned. It was not bright or joyous, a fire befitting the occasion of your wedding night. Instead, it was dark - angry, a wild blaze threatening to torch everything in its path with little regard for the consequences.

Though your new husband had been nothing but kind to you, polite and even occasionally charming, for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing, you finally understood why so many tended to avert their gaze lest they face Aemond’s ire. 

Before you stood Aemond One-Eye, a fierce dragon rider whose presence commanded attention, and you struggled to keep from withering beneath his gaze as you held his dark look with an even one of your own.

Around you, his apartments teemed with life. Drunken revelers laughed as they surged into the room and circled the pair of you, some of them shouting tawdry jokes while others lamented the loss of the right to the first night. Regardless of their mood, it seemed as if every man in the realm fought to be at your side in a room that once felt so spacious but now left you struggling to catch your breath as they began tugging at pieces of your clothing.

As many hands clumsily tugged at well-tied laces and the heavy fabric of your gown, a few highborn ladies - friends you’d made in the short time you’d been at Court - dutifully removed Aemond’s clothes with much less vigor than their husbands or brothers or cousins.

Aegon led the charge, grin on his lips and breath reeking of wine as he leaned in close. Aemond’s gaze faltered for only a moment, turning to his brother and flashing a warning even the drunkest of men could read very clearly, before it returned to you as Aegon pointedly ignored him. Your drunken good-brother chose, instead, to tip your chin with fingers sticky with wine and draw your gaze away from your husband.

“Do not worry, good-sister,” he began, voice loud, despite his performative attempt at a whisper. He spared Aemond a look, eyes glinting with a mirth that bordered on malice - before he returned his gaze to you. “I made sure my brother was well-educated in the art of pleasure but should you find yourself wanting, you need only say the word.”

By design, you were not given the chance to respond. The last of your garments was removed from your body and Aegon released his grip on your chin to grab your waist. 

The sea of revelers parted. Amidst a cacophony of cheers and jeers, a few murmurs as to how it was a shame your father had agreed to wed you to a man they saw as less than whole, Aegon and one of his friends carried you through the crowd and deposited you into Aemond’s bed.

It was only when you were settled amongst the furs and linens that they were all finally ushered out of the room.

If you were honest, it surprised you that Aemond allowed the bedding ceremony in the first place. The idea was put forth by his brother, a suggestion he’d barely blinked an eye at, but it was plain to see just how adversely the entire spectacle affected him as he approached the bed.

Aemond Targaryen, the very image of his house’s beauty and fire, stood before you with his face a mask of composure you had yet to see fully slip. There were cracks, glimpses into the churning abyss that lingered just beneath the calm surface, and you could see them beginning to spread as a jeer from the crowd echoed just beyond the steel and wood of the door.

There was a flash of hurt, a glimpse so brief you felt certain you’d imagined it, before he swallowed and his jaw tensed. He steeled himself, his resolve, and you could see the mask slip back into place.

“My prince,” you began, voice far quieter than you intended as you sat upright to meet his gaze. “I do not-“

A hum escaped your new husband as he stepped closer, pressing a knee into the soft surface beneath you and shaking his head slightly. “We will speak when there is no crowd standing guard just outside, waiting for evidence our marriage has been consummated. For now, we must fulfill our duty as husband and wife.”

There was an edge of finality in his tone, no room left for argument as he reached for you. Though his touch was not harsh, not as insistent or eager as the men who’d taken great joy in stripping you bare, it was firmer than you’d expected. In the weeks of your courtship, he’d lended an arm as you descended the steps in the garden or offered a hand as you climbed them - each touch soft, almost tentative, and as brief as could be considered proper. 

It was wistful, possibly even naive, to believe the softness of his touch was affection or that it would continue as he pressed you back into the pillows. Aemond was not an outwardly affectionate man, that much you knew to be true, nor was he used to being treated so tenderly. His life had been one lived in a gilded cage, acquiescing to everything expected of him with little argument and even less connection. Love would not come easy to him, nor would affection.

Only time would bring him comfort, trust in you and the ability to be vulnerable, so you made no argument as he settled himself over you. 

The dim candlelight made it difficult to see much - and you wondered how Aemond might react if you allowed yourself to savor the sight of him - but you took the brief chance you were offered to study him. Tall, lithe, muscular; he looked every bit the fearsome dragon rider and well-trained swordsman. Pale hair cascaded over his shoulders, a curtain that cast shadows over the sharp features of his face, but you could clearly see the intrigue in his eye as you lifted your hand to gently cradle his jaw.

Had you not been studying him so closely, so desperate to see some glimpse of warmth beneath the cool surface of your new husband, you might’ve missed his sharp inhale or the way his eye narrowed. Had you not been so enthralled by his appearance, you might’ve missed the way he swallowed or the split second he allowed himself to lean into your careful touch before the impassive mask returned.

Friends, some long married with babes while others had just wed, whispered and giggled when they shared what you could expect. Most of your friends lamented the act itself, thankful only that it often seemed to be over quickly,  as many of their husbands were older lords in need of young wives to produce heirs. It seemed that few cared much at all about their wives’ pleasure and you’d wondered throughout your courtship if Aemond - though young, a man of your own age - might prove similar.

Now that the time had come to find out, you still felt wholly uncertain.

For a long moment, Aemond simply studied you. The deep lilac of his eye traced your face, shadowed by his hair and framed by your own locks - now free from the style your handmaids worked so hard to perfect - and his lips parted. He seemed poised to speak, though before he could, the sound of fists pounding the wood of the door broke whatever spell existed in the solace of the room.

Loud jeers from a drunken crowd reminded you both of your purpose, the reason you had been stripped bare for half the kingdom to see, and Aemond was the first to act.

Though you hoped for little and expected even less, Aemond wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to prove that he could be a husband, an adequate lover, a man who had everything and more. You had no way of knowing his motivation, not then, but you could see the flame in his eye as his hand fell to your hip.

With the hand still cradling his jaw, you managed to hold him in place as you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his. Since speaking your vows earlier in the night, you’d managed to steal two chaste kisses from your new husband - one just after the ceremony, in the few seconds you had alone before the feast began; the other, tucked in a corner before you were whisked away for the bedding. He responded well to both, stepping just an inch closer and allowing his lips to linger for a long moment, and you were pleased to find that he responded just as well to this kiss.

The ladies at court often lamented their husbands’ lack of skill or desire to share a kiss. They all sighed and confessed that the men found no use for it, no fun in it. It made you wonder if Aemond was humoring you, allowing you the kiss that seemed almost tender in nature, in return for your maidenhead - for your hand, your house’s newly pledged loyalty - but you knew well enough that your new husband was not one to indulge in anything he did not want to.

Hope bloomed, then, just beneath your ribcage that he might, someday, even grow to enjoy it as much as you suddenly found that you did.

Calloused hands began to explore your skin, touch light for a fleeting moment - almost reverent, almost tentative - before it grew steadier, more certain. The tips of his fingers left a path of fire in their wake, his skin always running hotter than anyone you’d ever met, and you nearly expected to find a visible path seared over the expanse of your torso as his hands dipped to your thighs.

As of yet there had been little outward sign of affection from your husband - everything felt like a courtesy, the actions of a well-educated prince, chivalrous out of duty only - and you knew that it might be wishful thinking to believe the slow drag of your husband’s hand up your inner thigh was anything more than slight trepidation. But you swore you could see the anger that burned so bright only moments ago morph into something closer to lust, desire, need.

Aemond’s fingers pressed firm into the plush of your thighs as he parted them and you bit the inside of your cheek to smother your gasp as his sharp gaze finally raked over your bare skin.

For all the wandering eyes, the lustful gazes that burned into your skin as so many lords of the realm crowded into the small room, it struck you in that moment that Aemond waited until you were alone to truly look. He waited until you were pliant beneath him, until you’d sated your own curiosity about him, to allow himself a glance at anything other than your face.

And despite the insistent jeers of the crowd beyond the door, he seemed determined to take you as he wished.

“They are expecting to hear us,” he reminded you as his fingers drew closer to your center. “Do not deprive us all of your charming voice.”

A handful of compliments had been levied at you from your new husband - more in regard to your intelligence than your most beautiful gowns, though one had ended with him calling you beautiful - but you still felt your cheeks heat as his fingers grazed your slit.

The swipe of his fingers was almost clumsy, less self-assured than he always seemed to be, but the thought gave you some comfort. Neither of you could disappoint the other if you were on somewhat equal footing.

Aemond’s touch grew more insistent, more assured, from the moment his fingers grazed the small bundle of nerves that wrenched a gasp from your throat and had your nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He focused there, thumb circling the now aching pearl, as his fingers gathered the increasing slick. The deep lilac of his eye had almost vanished, replaced nearly entirely by lust-blown black, but it remained on your face - watching intently with every noise that spilled from your lips.

As desperately as you wanted to close your eyes, to hide from the intensity in his gaze, you found yourself unable to look away from his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the barely there flush that set high upon his cheeks; he was beautiful, regal, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Gevi,” you breathed, hoping the word sounded as effortless falling from your own lips as it did from his. Your thumb brushed his cheek, just beneath his scar, and you could see the flash of an emotion you could not recognize in his eye.

For a moment, he remained silent, fingers slowing to a barely there press, before he tipped his head. Your hand slipped, fell to his jaw, and you realized it was calculated - purposeful - even as his gaze softened. “My clever wife,” he hummed, matter-of-factly, as the corner of his mouth lifted in something akin to a smile. “Full of surprises.”

A response formed on the tip of your tongue, nowhere near as witty as you hoped for, but the press of Aemond’s fingers into your core stole your breath and all coherent thought. The sensation was odd, unlike any you’d ever experienced, and you could feel your brows furrow as your body attempted to make sense of what was happening. It was not as unpleasant as you expected, nor as pleasurable as you hoped for, but you imagined that both would come in time.

Despite his appearance, his brusque manner, Aemond was not harsh. His touch was no longer soft, no longer tentative, and you could still feel the weight of his hands on your thighs despite his touch having moved, but he seemed to take note of the way you winced when his fingers began to press a little too quickly - a little too hard - and adjusted accordingly.

Soon enough, you found a delicate rhythm - an insistent press of his fingers, an exploration unlike any you’d ever felt, as you used the grip on his jaw to pull him into another kiss.

This kiss was different, heavier. It was hungry, a clash of teeth and tongue and noses that made the backs of your eyes sting. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a bite harsh enough to draw blood, and you inhaled sharply as he lapped at the copper staining your lips. 

The copper tang seemed to spur Aemond on, remind him of his duty and the audience waiting for it to be done. He moved with a renewed vigor, with a confidence you’d quickly come to associate with him. His fingers pressed deeper, searching, and he only seemed content when you broke the kiss to fill the room with a breathless moan of his name. 

Warmth spread over your skin, a combination of his body heat surrounding you and your own pleasure coursing through your veins. Every swipe of his fingers, every circle of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, made the edges of your vision white and the air harder to obtain.

It was then, as your stomach tied itself into knots and your nails sank into the toned skin of his back - his shoulders, his chest, his arms; wherever you could reach, desperate for some tether to reality - that he replaced his fingers with the filling warmth of his cock.

With every noise that fell from your lips, the noise outside the door grew louder. It felt as if the whole of the realm waited just beyond the wood, ears pressed to the door, and Aemond seemed acutely aware of your audience. Gone were the tentative touches, the firm but still careful brushes of his hands. After a few careful initial presses of his hips to yours, he began to sink into you in earnest.

A cry of his name rang through the room, fanning the flames of the fire outside, and your body seemed trapped in the path of the blaze.

Every word of gossip you’d heard from friends seemed true, impossibly, all at once. There was an ache between your thighs, a stinging pain that replaced the pleasant ache of desire, and a dull pinch at your hip as Aemond’s fingers pressed into your skin. The entire room was too hot, almost stifling, and the noise rang in your ears. The tawdry jokes and laughter in the hall, the rustle of linen, the lewd sound of Aemond’s cock pressing into your center, the keening of your moans, the huff of his breath; it was almost too much.

Each sensation that washed over you was distinct but beginning to muddle together.

Despite yourself, your best efforts to take the affection given to you by your husband and appreciate them, you found yourself hoping for something softer, something easier, something better. 

Aemond was lost in that moment, stuck somewhere in the back of his own mind, and you could only whisper his name in hopes that he might allow you a moment to catch your breath.

“Aemond, I - please.” The whispered plea, gasped into the night air and barely audible over the cheers still echoing in the hall, seemed to break his reverie. It returned him to the moment at hand - the pinch of your brows as the ache between your thighs plagued you, the curve of your mouth as you fought to keep your composure, the sting of your nails biting into his shoulder - and gave him pause. 

The snap of his hips faltered, slowed from the near manic thrusts to something more even, and you eased the grip on his shoulder as you inhaled eagerly.

That deep purple gaze swept across your face, searching for something you could not readily provide, before he squeezed your hip in what you chose to interpret as an apology. You accepted it, easily, and offered him a tentative smile as he continued pressing forward - still firm, still deep, only slower now.

Giggles from the past, old whispers that there was real pleasure to be found in bed, began to return to the forefront of your mind as Aemond’s new pace began to replace the pinch and ache between your thighs with that devastating warmth you’d only just experienced. Everything felt too hot, too bright, too much, and the thought must have been clearly written across your face as Aemond hummed.

“Take your pleasure,” he encouraged, voice low in your ear as he leaned in close. “Then, I shall have mine.”

Warmth continued to flood your veins. Fire lapped at your skin, consuming you entirely, and you took no notice of the noise that escaped your parted lips as you allowed Aemond to continue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The end was as beautiful as you’d heard, as blissful, and you could feel yourself melting into the plush of the bed as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your heart thundered in your chest. All that mattered in that moment was Aemond; the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his skin as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the low rasp of his voice as he all but whispered expletives. 

That pleasure was only heightened by the warmth that flooded you as Aemond stilled atop you, a curse on his lips and head thrown back.

It was a beautiful sight - something worthy of committing to memory, something so beautiful you only hoped to see it again and again. And you only hoped your new husband felt the same as he tipped his head to study you once more.

Aemond lingered only for a moment, his gaze softer than you’d seen directed at you, before he pulled away. Another squeeze to your waist was the only affection he spared before he stood and pulled the white line from his bed. He shifted you carefully - almost tenderly - to remove the fabric then strode across the expanse of the room to the door.

Without ceremony, he wrenched it open and tossed the stained fabric into the crowd.

A loud cheer echoed through the halls, drunken revelers delighting in the evidence of your consummation, but was quickly cut off with the slam of the heavy door.

The crowd grew quieter, noise drifting back in the direction of the hall still filled with older revelers - opting to spend their time discussing matters best saved for an in-person meeting - and you took the brief moment to catch your breath as Aemond did the same.

For just a moment, he lingered near the small table that held a pitcher and glasses, before filling them with wine and bringing them to bed. He handed you one, nodded his acknowledgement to your thanks, and settled back onto the plush fabric at your side.

Silence fell over the room then, a welcome but almost overwhelming lack of sound after hours surrounded by a cacophony of noise. For the first time since you woke that morning, you found that you could hear yourself think.

Every thought centered upon your new husband.

Aemond Targaryen was a mystery. Rumors about him swirled through the realm and whispers abounded at court. None seemed to be in agreement, however.

Some thought him to be fierce, a fearsome warrior who would make a fine knight should he find himself so inclined. Others insisted that Vhagar was his only asset and that he was nothing more than a loyal hound devoted to his family. Others still insisted that the only person Aemond could ever be loyal to was himself and his own interests.

There were whispers that he was cold, unfeeling. There were rumors that he had no interest in anything other than books, that living people meant little to him. But you were beginning to see the truth.

Try as he might to hide it, the nature of his soul that he buried so deeply, you were beginning to see him for who he truly was.

Aemond wanted the things he’d never been given. He sought reassurance, comfort, love. He wanted to be wanted - truly wanted, desired; not needed because he possessed the largest, oldest dragon. And though your match began as a political alliance, you hoped to prove that he was worthy of his desires as you shifted closer and reached for his hand.

“Aemond,” you began, voice quiet as you hoped desperately he would not push you away, even as he tensed. To your relief - and surprise - he did not. Instead, he simply glanced at your linked hands before turning his full attention to your face. “Believe what you wish, but I am glad that it is you I married. I do not want Aegon or any of the other lords lingering about the castle. I did not accept this betrothal without thought and I hope that you will believe me when I say there is no other I could want.”

Though it was slight, you could see the raise of his eyebrow. So, with a sigh, you placed your cup onto the table and grasped his hand with both of your own.

“When my father made it known that he intended to offer you my hand, I was given more attention at court than I ever wanted. I never cared much for it all, but suddenly, it seemed as if everyone wanted me to join them.” With a weary sigh, you began to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his hand. “Everyone had a tale of Prince Aemond they wished to share. Some heard word from a brother or cousin, others whispered tales from their own trips to the Red Keep. I heard so many whispers about you that I began to lose track of who whispered what. I have always held whispers in little regard but it grew so frequent that I nearly worried I might meet a monster.”

The moment you paused, Aemond hummed thoughtfully. “Targaryen’s are said to be closer to gods than men. Perhaps monsters are included.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed, pausing your tracing to glance up at him from beneath your lashes. The deep lilac of his eye met yours and you felt your cheeks heat. “But you are no monster. You are just a man. I was given the chance to reject our union. One word, and I would’ve been spirited away to some lesser lord. But I chose to stay.”

“Why?”

It was a genuine question, accompanied by a look you recognized as being tinged with skepticism. In response, you smiled at him.

“Despite your flaws, real or imagined or embellished, I find myself drawn to you. You have the beauty and fire of your house. You are proud, but not a braggart, quiet but not without charm. You are a noted swordsman and a dragon rider, yet you take no pleasure in tourneys. You are young and capable, intelligent and thoughtful. Of all the qualities one could want in a husband, you possess most."

This earnest admission was met with yet another hum of acknowledgement from your husband, a thoughtful rumination as he allowed the compliment to linger for a moment. Only then, after seeming to savor your words, did he ask, “Which qualities do I lack, wife?”

Had you not grown so accustomed to studying every twitch of his brows, every curve of his mouth, you might’ve missed the hint of a smile he wore. It was a question asked in jest, teasing, and you allowed yourself a laugh.

“Time shall tell,” you assured him, returning his barely-there smile with a soft one of your own. “Though, I would never dare call you perfect, lest your head swell to the size of Vhagar’s.” Aemond allowed you a glimpse of a true smile then, fleeting, but you savored the sight just the same. It brought a strange warmth to your chest, wound the hope that bloomed beneath your ribcage into a tendril that squeezed your heart, and you offered his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand why we were wed. But I have hope that even if we do not find love in one another, we shall find friendship at the least.”

“You would not ask for more?”

“Men’s battles are fought in fields, at sea, on dragon back,” you answered, carefully turning his hand in yours to trace his palm. “A woman’s battle is fought abed. If I were to die there, my only hope is that it would be for someone I cared for, someone who cared for me.”

That lilac eye studied your face once more, more intently, and you could see the weight of your words settling on his shoulders as he realized that he was no longer alone, nor did you have any misunderstandings as to what this life meant for you both. Though he was the spare, pushed down in the line of succession by his brother’s children, he was expected to have a family and in return for giving him heirs, all you asked of him was companionship.

“I believe you shall be a fierce warrior,” he declared, gaze dipping to your fingers gently sweeping across his heated skin.

“And I believe you are all I could have hoped for in a husband,” you confessed, hoping he might agree - that he might declare you to be all he could’ve hoped for in a wife.

And though he seemed unopposed to you, he instead asked, “Do you believe that truly?”

“I do,” you confirmed, pausing your tracing to meet his eye. “I’ve long been afraid of marriage, of becoming trapped with someone who cared little for me, but I am more afraid that growing to love you will be easier than I ever imagined.”

“Love makes you weak,” he all but whispered, though the words held little conviction and even less weight. They were the words of someone afraid, someone unused to love and affection, and you met them with a gentle smile.

“Perhaps it is a good thing we are married, then. I believe love makes you stronger. My father loved my mother and he fought like hell to return to her each and every battle he waged. Love provides motivation,” you offered, only to be met with another thoughtful hum. Rather than pressing, you shifted the conversation after a moment of silence. “Why did you allow the bedding ceremony?”

Aemond paused for a moment and seemed to consider his answer. “I had every intention of forgoing it,” he confessed, free hand tracing the lip of his glass. “Then, we met and it was selfish, I suppose. I have something most men in King’s Landing will covet - a comely wife from a noble house who has made me the sole object of her affection. Allowing the ceremony provided an opportunity to boast, to show that while they may look, you are mine. No other will know the pleasure of your company.”

The reasoning behind his allowance was understandable, even more so when you considered that he was the second son of a man who scarcely remembered his sons in the first place. It was not often he was given something others desired, not often he could be envied, and you could not begrudge him the opportunity he’d taken.

“I am yours,” you agreed, lifting his hand to place it over your heart. “While I believe love will make us stronger, I would not mind being seen as weak, just so long as you are by my side. Others may whisper or believe what they wish but know, lord husband, that I want you and you alone. I look forward to the future and hope the gods bless us with a long and happy marriage.”

“I shall leave faith to you,” he declared, though the words were softer than you believed he intended. “But I have little doubt that you will be left wanting.” Aemond turned, then, and removed the eyepatch covering his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the dim candlelight and you squeezed his hand to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

“Gevi,” you repeated, smiling upon the full face of your new husband.

Aemond’s mouth curved once more, a touch more noticeable, before he sighed and shifted to lie amongst the pillows. “Sleep, dear wife,” he encouraged, pulling you into the pillows at his side.

With the morning sun, your new life would begin. As tentative as you’d once been, you no longer felt any fear. There was far to travel, much to be gained in the way of your new husband’s trust, but you imagined he was right; neither of you would be left wanting, so long as you had the other.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: It's my first time writing for Aemond (or anything GoT/HotD related) so I hope it's alright. I didn't want to go too soft but I also didn't want to go too mean/cold? I dunno. Let me know what you think! :)

[lucedilunax]

The fight - Q. Hughes

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn's girlfriend is turned on after his fight during the game against Kings

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), dom!quinn, dirty talk, degradation, spit, oral (m and f receiving), dacryphilia, spanking, rough sex, swearing

words: 1.9 k

note: i forgot to add this and it was saved all weekend in drafts haha enjoy it guys!

masterlist

---

„…And Quinn Hughes lost his temper…” That’s all she heard from the tv. The score was showing 3:2 for Vancouver, so she decided to get ready for bed. 5 minutes of the game were left, and she felt confident that Quinn and his team were gonna win this. Although, when she heard the sentence from commentators’ mouths, she froze in the bathroom with her toothbrush in mouth.

She ran back to the bedroom to rewind and see the situation in which her boyfriend lost his cool. When she saw the way Quinn threw Kings’ player into the bands, she felt her cheeks burning. Quinn was the definition of a calm and composed person. She barely saw him losing his temper. She watched this clip all over again. The next thing she saw was Quinn chirping at the guy in the penalty box. All she had in her mind was this fight and him in the penalty box.

Right after the game was over and Vancouver celebrated a 4:2 win, she reached for her phone and sent Quinn a message, “You did incredible today, but the fight?? You’re badass out there, so hot captain”. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She laid in the bed and watched the clips on social media. After two hours, Quinn called her.

“You really enjoyed me throwing the guy into bands?” He laughed. She knew that she’s on speaker when she heard his voice muffled and him packing suitcase.

“Well yeah, I didn’t know you could be that hot”. She said biting her nails.

“Don’t tell me this turns you on”. When she was dead silent, he continued. “You can’t be serious. Me being mad got you on?”

“I… Yeah.”. He giggled. “But in my defense, I never saw you in this way”.

“Oh, what I should do with you now”.

“You can be mean to me too…” Before she could speak again, he interrupted her.

“Princess, you're ridiculous”.

“Why? We can always spice things up in bedroom”. He hasn’t said anything, she felt that it was dumb suggestion. “Or never mind, forget what I said, it was stupid”.

“No, it wasn’t. I just got lost in my thoughts”. He took a deep breath and spoke again. “If this is what you want, we can do it”.

“Oh, I want to”.

“Good… good. Then I expect you to be ready when I get back home”.

“Yes captain”.

“You’re playing with the fire princess”. He already was turned on by the thought of her at his mercy . “I love you”.

“Love you too, can’t wait to see you”.

They hung up and she finally could fall asleep. She set her alarm clock early to get ready. When she woke up, she went to take a shower and shaved her body. After it, she went to their dressing room and picked his favorite lingerie. To make it not too obvious, she put on one of his old shirts and went to the kitchen to make them breakfast. She knew, he’s probably hungry after the trip.

On the other hand, Quinn’ mind was thinking all the time about her words. He couldn’t believe that losing his temper turned her on so much to want to have rough sex. He started to think of the ways to make the most of it and at the same time not to hurt her. There were so many things he always wanted to try with her and now, he saw the perfect opportunity.

When Quinn finally got back home, the first thing that hit his nose was the smell of bacon and orange juice. He dropped his bags by the front door and went further to their apartment. She was placing all the food on the table. She turned and saw him standing in his suit, hands in his pockets. She was already turned on.

“Hi baby, great games in California”. She went to kiss him and placed his hands behind his neck. He grabbed her by the waist and hugged her. His hand went to grab her ass and play with her panties.

“You look beautiful”. He spanked her. “As much as I would love to fuck you, you need to eat because I know that you waited for me. Get your cute butt on the chair and let’s dive in your delicious food”.

She did what he told her. They sat at the table and ate breakfast together. Quinn was telling her how roadie went, and she was telling him about her work. When they finished, she stood up to clean the table, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her on his lap.

“Not so fast princess. We have things to discuss”. He kissed her behind her ear, knowing how much she loved it. “Do you trust me with what’s about to happen?”

“Yes”. She kissed his lips.

“Good. Now, if anything I did will make you uncomfortable, you will tell me, right?” She nodded her head. He grabbed her chin so she could face him fully. “Words princess”.

“Yes, I will tell you. Can we start?” He laughed at her desperation.

“You really turn on, huh? I bet you’re already soaking wet”. He placed his hand in her panties and started rubbing her clit. “Gosh, you’re pathetic. I haven’t done anything and you’re wet. Is the fight really got you going?” She moaned at his words. Quinn never spoke to her like that but she already loved it.

“Don’t tell me that you enjoy when I degrade you”. He said not believing in this but seeing how she blushed, he realized that she enjoys it.

“You’re so simple to read, it’s such a shame that I’ll ruin you today”. Quinn whispered in her ear. He took off his hand from her panties and put his fingers in her mouth. She gladly accepted them and sucked on them. “Bedroom, naked, now. I’ll come in a minute”.

She listened to him and stood up. She went to their bedroom swaying her hips and undressing at the same time. Quinn watched her every move, feeling the bulge growing in his pants. Before he went to her, he undressed by himself, throwing his suit in the bathroom. When he finally stepped to the bedroom, he saw her all naked, kneeling next to their bed.

“How cute. Judging by your position, you want me to fuck your mouth. Am I right princess?” He closed the distance between them and started caressing her cheek.

“You deserve a reward after those games”. She said and grabbed his underwear to take it off, but he stopped her.

“Not so fast. Let me enjoy the view for a bit”. She felt objectified by his words, but she loved this new side of him. She started getting ever more wet. Quinn finally made a move and stepped out from his underwear. “Spit on it”. That’s all he said to her. She obeyed and played with her tongue on his tip. “Open up and start the work”. She took him to her mouth but couldn’t fit his cock. He laughed, seeing her struggle. “Aww, poor baby, can’t even fit my dick”. He mocked her and pushed himself further into her mouth.

The tip of his cock hit her throat. She was gagging around him. Her chin was covered in her spit and tears were falling from her eyes. Quinn looked at her and felt even more turned on. He loved seeing her face so helpless. Before he could release in her mouth, he took off his dick. She pounded on his action.

“You wanted my cum?” He asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She nodded but corrected herself.

“Yes… captain”. She used this phrase on purpose, to see where this will bring her. His eyes darkened hearing her, saying captain in a sexual way. This woke up a new side of him. Quinn pulled her by hair so she could stand up. He pulled her closer to his face and grabbed her throat.

“You shouldn’t have said that”. He whispered to her ear. “You’re gonna regret this”. Before she could react, Quinn turned her around and bent her over the bed. The first slap laid on her ass. 

“You think it’s funny?” Second slap. “To call me captain?” Third slap. “Is this some kind of game for you?” Fourth one. “Answer me or have I already made you dumb?” Fifth slap.

“No…” Her voice broke down. “Wanted to see your reaction”. She said all in tears.

He helped her stand up and turn her so she was facing him.

“Poor baby is already crying. Wait until I ruin this pussy”. He kissed her and pushed her on the bed. “Grab your thighs, raise them and keep your legs open”. She obeyed him hoping for him to fuck her. Instead, he played with her clit. “So wet just from using your mouth and spanking. Maybe I should leave you like that. Do you deserve my cock in your greedy pussy?”

“Yes”. 

“Then beg for it. Be a good girl”.

“Please Quinn. Do something, I’ll do anything”. She felt humiliated.

“Anything you say? So pathetic”. He pushed two fingers into her pussy. She screamed, not expecting this. The pain soon became a pleasure to her. He was fingering her at a ruthless pace. She was moaning louder with each thrust. “Shut up. You’re so loud just around my fingers”. She tried to keep the noise quiet but couldn’t. Quinn took his fingers out of her. He went to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. She laid her legs on the bed. 

“Have I told you to do it?” 

“No”.

“Then why did you do it?” He asked, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes. 

“I… I thought you’re done. I’m sorry”. She felt ashamed and tried to ignore his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of when I’m done with you. Good thing you remembered your manners and apologized”. Quinn caressed her cheek and spread her legs open. He put the tip of his dick in her. He pushed his all length into her. She closed her legs out of habit but he grabbed her knees and spread them again.

“Don’t do that or I’ll not let you come”. He threatened her. The thought of not being able to cum scared her and decided to act like he plays her. Quinn was fucking her fastly. He was abusive to her pussy but she loved every minute of it. She was moaning his name like a mantra. This was a motivation for him. He felt her wall tightening around his dick. He knew she’s close.

“Cum”. That’s all that he said to her. She screamed his name loudly when she reached her climax. Two more thrusts and he also cum. He pulled his dick out of her and threw away the condom. Quinn looked at her trying to catch her breath.

“Hey, you alright princess?” She nodded her head, too tired to speak. “You did so good for me. I’m proud of you”. He kissed her forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you a nice bath”. She followed him to the bathroom. Both of them laid in the hot water. Quinn helped her to wash her body. 

“You were so hot today. Even hotter than in the fight”. She joked when they left the bathroom and headed out to the living room.

“Thanks”. He smiled. “I still can’t believe that you got all worked up only because I threw a guy into bands. You’re something”. He kissed her temple and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch when she sat on the couch and turned on the tv. They spent the rest of the day laying on the couch, cuddling and watching movies.

---

Thanks for reading💕

[edytae]

Mirror s*x (smut-mature) ft. Kim Taehyung x Reader

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, pure filth, sex in a bathroom, unedited.

word count: 17.2K

A/N: unedited

masterlist | drunk love | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | heat | Puppy Daddy |

————

“You are crazy,” you announced, watching Taehyung’s reflection in the mirror as he fumbled with the button of his pants. His hands moved quickly, but the urgency made him sloppy.

“Thanks,” he shot back bratty, clicking his tongue before flashing you a playful wink. His dark eyes were fixed on yours through the mirror, the mischief in them unmistakable.

You took your place. Your hands gripped the sink tightly, the cold porcelain grounding you as the heat between you two grew unbearable. He stepped closer to have your ass comfortably rest on his crotch again. You could feel him watching you—his eyes hungry, devouring every inch of your reflection as he pulled you in position.

You looked at him pointedly while his smirk grew. A loud cheer came outside of the door to the new song playing. “We don’t have much time.” You reminded him while Taehyung slowly chewed a non-existent gum. 

“We have all the time in the world, baby.” He dragged his knuckles down the fat of your ass, across the curve of your waist, teasing you until you felt like you might combust from frustration. His hands, then, revealed your peach to his eyes by lifting your skirt. 

His lips curled and a whistle left his mouth. “You were hiding this under?” Taehyung’s long fingers skimmed along the stitches of your flimsy thong.

“Taehyung…” You complained. “You said this would be quick!” Your ass shook in Taehyung’s hands. 

His eyes met yours. He was as frustrated as you were. “Don’t rush me.” He commanded. His hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the small bathroom. You gasped, your body jerking involuntarily at the sudden contact, a mixture of surprise and pleasure shooting through you. His hand lingered, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as his dark eyes met yours in the mirror.

“What have—” Your animated voice filled Taehyung’s ears before he gave you another smack. This time on the other cheek.

Your breath hitched as the pain spread. Taehyung's fingers traced slow, lazy circles over the reddened skin where he had just spanked you. He wanted to get on his knees and kiss the bruised skin, but if he went down now, he knew you would complain ten times more.

“I wanna eat your ass so bad…” He slurred.

Your body peeked, “You can’t!” You immediately opposed, but Taehyung’s hooded eyes looked at you beggingly. “Taehyung, we can’t do that here. Later, okay?” 

There was no way you could let Taehyung get on his knees in this filthy frat house bathroom.

Taehyung felt his eyes fill with tears. Would it be too dramatic if he cried?

“Promise me?” He asked sternly.

You nodded while his hands grabbed fistfuls of your ass. 

Your agreement brought a smile back to Taehyung’s lips as he continued kissing you. His lips mostly focused on your neck as he pressed your back to his chest.,

“Shh!” He cooed every time your back arched. “Keep that ass moving…” He reminded when your hips got tired. 

A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, but Taehyung didn’t let up. His hips pressed against you with purpose, each slow grind pushing you closer to the edge, teasing you just enough to keep you craving more. He smirked against your skin, knowing exactly what he was doing.

You tried to keep up, to keep moving your hips as he wanted, but the overwhelming pleasure made it hard to focus. Your breaths came out in shaky gasps, your hands gripping the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. “Taehyung,” you whimpered, your voice strained with desperation. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“Not yet,” he growled softly, his tone both firm and reassuring. His hands slid up your sides, one of them slipping under your shirt to grasp your breast, squeezing gently. "You're going to hold out for me."

“Taehyung…” you whispered; your voice barely audible but thick with desire. “I can feel how hard you are… it's driving me crazy.”

His reaction was immediate. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and ragged. “Is that turning you on, baby?” he murmured, his tone smug but laced with the same arousal coursing through you.

Your body responded instinctively, pressing back against him, craving more of the heat, more of the friction. “So much,” you confessed, your breath catching as his hardness rubbed against you with every subtle movement. “I need you so bad, Taehyung… I can't take it anymore.”

He chuckled softly, his hips grinding slowly into you, making sure you felt every inch of him. “I can tell,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “You're soaking wet for me, baby. I can feel that too.” His words sent another wave of heat through you, and you let out a soft whimper, pushing your hips back harder in response. 

His calm demeanour was maddening, but the way he looked at you—his gaze dark, intense, and filled with hunger—made you want to give yourself over to him completely. His grip on you was firm, possessive.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your neck. "You feel too good on my dick," he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. The slow drag of his hardness of jeans between your slick folds had you trembling. His fingers dug into your hips as he controlled the rhythm, ensuring you felt every inch of him with each torturous grind.

You whimpered, your body aching for more, but Taehyung was in no rush. His eyes stayed locked on yours through the mirror, watching every flicker of desperation and need that passed over your face. "Tell me what you want, baby," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

"I want you inside me," you pleaded breathlessly, your voice shaking as your hips bucked back against him. "Please, Taehyung… I can't wait anymore."

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across his lips as he adjusted his stance behind you. He guided himself to your entrance, teasing you with the tip, not yet giving you what you craved. He was drawing it out, savouring every second of your impatience. "You want it that bad?" he asked, his tone taunting but thick with his own barely contained need.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely audible. "Please, I need it."

Without another word, Taehyung decided it was enough. He pulled down his boxers to let his dick sprung out. He didn’t waste time to take your underwear off. He pulled the string to the side.

Taehyung’s cock teased you mercilessly, his tip resting just below your entrance, slipping between your slick folds but never quite where you needed him. The sensation had your nerves on edge, and frustration bubbled inside you with every passing second.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Letting go of the sink, you turned your head slightly to glare at him through the mirror, your fingers reaching back to squeeze his arms tightly. His smirk only grew, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, but you were past caring about teasing or games.

“Taehyung,” you hissed, your eyes blazing with frustration and arousal. “Stop messing around.”

He raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes locking onto yours in the mirror, the cocky glint in them never wavering. “Oh?” he asked, his tone smug as he continued to press his tip against your folds, refusing to move forward. “What are you going to do about it?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the overwhelming desire mixing with annoyance. You wanted him now—no more teasing, no more waiting. You pushed back harder against him, grinding your hips in a futile attempt to get what you so desperately craved, but Taehyung only chuckled darkly, enjoying the way you writhed against him.

Your eyes narrowed, a sly grin curling on your lips as you met Taehyung’s gaze in the mirror. The tension between you both was electric, every nerve in your body screaming for him, but you knew how to get under his skin. If he wanted to play games, you could play them better.

"Maybe I should go find Namjoon," you said with a slow, deliberate tone, watching his reaction closely. "He’s been trying to impress me for days." You shifted your hips again, grinding back against Taehyung’s cock just to drive the point home.

Taehyung’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. 

His eyes darkened as he harshly pulled you closer, lips brushing your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You think Namjoon could handle you the way I do?" he growled softly, his voice dripping with jealousy and arousal. "Think again, baby."

You hummed softly, pretending to consider it, teasing him further. "He’s been so sweet lately… I’m sure he would fuck me when I ask him to."

The words had barely left your mouth when Taehyung’s hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. His expression was no longer playful; it was dark, dangerous, and dripping with territorial lust. "You’re not going anywhere," he growled, his voice low and commanding.

You smiled, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him. "Then make me stay," you challenged, your voice daring, eyes blazing with desire. "Please…"

Without hesitation, Taehyung’s body moved with raw determination. He shifted, aligning himself with your entrance, and in one swift, possessive motion, he thrust deep inside you. 

The sudden, intense fullness made you gasp, your body arching in response. Your body slipped between his arms as you tried to ground yourself in between pleasure and pain. 

Taehyung cursed, “Fuck! Baby, you okay?” He felt your raw insides clench sporadically around him.

Your breath hitched, your knuckles going white as you gripped the sink for stability. The sudden intensity left you trembling, a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you, but you managed a shaky nod. "I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice was barely audible. "Just... don't start."

"Take your time, baby," he murmured, his voice soothing as he watched your reflection in the mirror. "Your bratty mouth caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to push you too hard."

Taehyung noticed the way you tensed, feeling the tight clench of your muscles around him. He realized he had been too intense, too eager. Gently, he slowed his movements, pulling out almost completely before easing back in with deliberate care. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you with a softer touch, allowing you to adjust at your own pace.

You took a deep breath, trying to relax your muscles as he gave you space to adjust. The gradual pace allowed you to feel every inch of him more comfortably, and you began to clench around him repeatedly, adjusting to the rhythm that suited you. Each time you tightened around him, Taehyung let out a low groan, his grip on your hips tightening in response to the sensation.

You chuckled deeply, “I love it.” Another breathless laugh escaped your lips. “I love how much you stretch me. And… ah– how deep you go.”

Taehyung's breath hitched at your words, a deep groan escaping his lips as he felt the way you responded to him. His movements became even more deliberate, his hands caressing your hips with a tender but firm grip.

"Is that so?" he murmured; his voice rough with desire. He could feel the way you clung to him, the way your body seemed to crave every inch of him. "I’m glad you’re enjoying it."

You began to clench around him repeatedly, adjusting to the rhythm that suited you. Each time you tightened around him, Taehyung let out a low groan, his grip on your hips tightening in response to the sensation.

"That's it," he encouraged softly, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. "Just like that. You're doing so good."

He thrusted slowly; each motion calculated to maximize the pleasure for both of you. 

Your laughter and moans echoing through the sink were music to his ears, driving him to move in a way that would keep you completely satisfied. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, guiding you to meet each of his thrusts, ensuring that you felt every bit of his length.

“How’s that?” He asked. 

You pouted, a playful edge to your voice as you managed to say, “Mhmhm, more to the right please.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to where you were, his smirk returning as he caught the hint of your need. He adjusted his angle, shifting his hips slightly to the right, aiming to hit the spot that you wanted.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice laced with teasing curiosity as he pressed forward with a bit more precision.

“Now, towards a bit left.” You asked, shaking your ass a tiny bit.

Taehyung’s smirk widened as he heard your playful demand. He shifted his angle to the left slightly, his movements smooth and controlled. “Like this?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he adjusted his thrusts.

You bit your lip, a mischievous glint in your eye as you watched his reflection. “Hmm, a bit more to the left,” you teased, your voice filled with playful authority. “You’re getting warmer.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed with a mix of amusement and challenge. He complied, shifting his angle slightly, his thrusts precise and calculated as he sought to hit the spot you craved. “Better?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

What was a little teasing game had actually turned true when you moaned loudly when Taehyung found the spot. 

Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he felt you moan loudly, a sign that he had finally hit the mark. The sound of your pleasure spurred him on.

“Found it, huh?” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

You cried out of pleasure. How could he find a spot that didn’t exist a few moments ago?

You nodded vigorously, your head resting against the cold sink. “Yes, right there,” you gasped.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed with a mix of triumph and desire as he heard your cries of pleasure. The way you responded to his movements only fuelled his passion further. With a confident smirk, he pulled out almost completely, savouring the sensation of being so deeply connected with you.

Then, with a deliberate and measured thrust, he pushed back in, aiming for that spot that made you gasp and moan with such intensity. The slow, deliberate motion allowed him to feel every inch of you, heightening both of your sensations.

You gripped the sink tighter, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as he continued to find and maintain that sweet spot inside you. Each thrust was calculated to keep you on the edge, ensuring that the pleasure built steadily and intensely.

His hands rested on your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, while trying to hold you up. “Like that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction and desire.

That’s perfect.” you managed to breath out, your voice trembling with both pleasure and the effort to stay upright. “Keep it up and I’ll–”

Taehyung’s rhythm grew steadier and more purposeful, his thrusts deliberate as he kept hitting that exact spot. Taehyung snickered, “You will cum, baby?” 

Taehyung’s rhythm grew steadier and more purposeful. With, each thrust precise as he kept hitting that exact spot that drove you wild. The intensity of the pleasure was almost overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your moans blending with the pounding music from the party downstairs.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and the sound of your pleasure filled the small, cramped bathroom. Taehyung's movements were relentless, and the friction between you was making you both lose control. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and you could feel the waves of your impending climax crashing over you.

Just as you were on the verge of losing yourself completely, the sound of a knock on the door startled both of you. The sudden interruption made you stiffen, and Taehyung’s thrusts faltered for a moment.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Namjoon’s voice came through the door, filled with curiosity. The knock was followed by a second, more insistent one.

As the knock on the door echoed through the cramped bathroom, your panic surged. You pulled yourself upright, desperately glancing at Taehyung through the mirror. His demeanour was surprisingly composed, a stark contrast to your own frantic state. His eyes, though, reflected a calm resolve, as if he were completely unperturbed by the situation.

You turned back to face him, your eyes pleading. You needed him to stop, to make sure Namjoon didn’t discover what was happening. Your body trembled with a mix of arousal and worry, and you could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest. The urgency in your gaze was unmistakable.

Taehyung's expression remained steady as he assessed your distress. Without hesitation, he placed a firm hand over your mouth, his fingers pressing gently but effectively to stifle any sounds you might make. 

“Y/N, are you there?” Namjoon’s voice came through the door again, this time with more concern. The sound of the second, more insistent knock heightened the tension in the room.

“Yeah?” Taehyung replied casually, his voice steady, though his eyes were filled with mischief.

Namjoon paused for a second, seemingly unaware of the tension crackling inside the small bathroom. “Taehyung? Have you seen Y/N? I’ve been looking for her.”

Taehyung's smirk grew wider as he pulled yourself tighter against him, grinding into you as his hands grabbed one of your tits. 

Your teeth dug into his palm. His warm hands on your breasts were unacceptable. He knew how sensitive tits you got, and he regularly used that. He mimicked a mock pout for you. Despite his bullying, his thrusts had stopped.

You shook your head to the sides, signalling Taehyung to answer.

“Nah, haven’t seen her in a while. Why?” he said, his tone playful, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He fully pulled out, rubbed his tip to your entrance.

Namjoon’s voice came through the door again, more insistent this time. “I was actually thinking of asking Y/N if she wanted me to walk her home. It’s getting late, and I wanted to make sure she gets back safely.”

Taehyung’s laughter came out low and smooth, his amusement evident. His hands remained firmly on your body, though he had paused his movements. He seemed completely unfazed by the situation, finding the whole thing rather amusing.

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Taehyung said, his voice carrying a tone of casual dismissal. With that he pushed himself into you in one smooth go. You cried into his hand over your mouth. His stretch was delicious. He felt you tight grip on him as he continued to speak. “I bet Y/N’s already in bed. It’s a weekday. Probably wouldn’t want to get up now.”

As you looked up at him, your gaze met his in the mirror. His eyes, dark and intense, held a glint of mischief and confidence that made your heart race. The contrast between his calm demeanour and the fervent pleasure you were experiencing was almost too much to handle.

The low timbre of Taehyung’s voice sent shivers down your spine. It was smooth, deep, and incredibly alluring. You were also captivated by how handsome he looked; his features highlighted by the dim light of the bathroom.

His jawline was chiselled and sharp, the kind of jawline that made your fingers itch to trace its contours. His hair, tousled and slightly damp, fell in dark, seductive waves that framed his face just perfectly.

The blend of his alluring voice and his captivating appearance made it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. You were completely absorbed by him that you clenched around Taehyung involuntarily. 

 His brow arched in a mix of surprise and satisfaction as he felt the heightened pressure. His grip on your face tightened, his fingers pressing against your skin with a commanding touch. 

Unable to resist the urge, you pushed your back slightly against him, seeking more of the delicious pressure. The movement made your knees feel weak as Taehyung's dick plunged deeper inside you, hitting new, sensitive spots that sent shivers up your spine. 

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He said to your ear. His voice was very low, impossible to be heard anyone but you.

You shook your head in agreement, but your hips had mind of their own. 

While you fucked yourself on his dick, you continued to beg him with your eyes. His hand pressed into your mouth more. He assumed it would intimidate you, but his fingers near your lips were a blessing for you. 

You would love to suck them if he let you. 

To address your worried but careless demeanour, Taehyung abandoned his previous grasp on your breasts and instead brought your wrists together behind your back. His hold was firm and unyielding, effectively subduing you and leaving you at his mercy. The sudden shift in position disrupted your balance, rendering you entirely vulnerable to his control.

As you tried to regain your composure, the friction of your movements produced unmistakable noises despite the party still going on downstairs. 

“What’re you doing in there, Taehyung?” Namjoon’s voice was now laced with suspicion, clearly disturbed by the sounds emanating from the small room.

Your body froze in his hands.

“Some careless girl dumped her alcohol on me. Got all of my clothes wet. I’m gonna take a shower if you let me.” Taehyung pointedly said. 

“Whatever!” There was a brief silence, and then Namjoon’s footsteps retreated, the sound of the loud party music filled the bathroom.

Taehyung turned his full attention back to you, his expression a mix of amusement and mock irritation. “You wanted us to get caught?” he asked, his tone light but with an underlying edge. He released your covered mouth.

You looked up at him, trying to catch your breath. “No, of course not,” you managed to say, your voice breathless. “I didn’t expect him to come knocking like that.”

Taehyung wiped and gently wrapped his fingers around your neck, his touch surprisingly tender. “You got so tight, baby. You liked fucking me when he was out?” he whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Dirty girl…”

You met his gaze, your eyes conveying a mix of apology and desire. “Ah, don’t act like you would love it for him to watch this!” you murmured, feeling the intensity of the moment.

Taehyung’s eyes darkened with a mix of amusement and a hint of something darker as he processed your words. He spoke, his voice low and sultry, “I would love if Namjoon knew you were here with me.”

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, each word dripping with a provocative edge. He pushed his knee between your legs and pushed your legs apart. 

With your legs more opened, he was able to give you fuller thrusts. “I wouldn’t mind him knowing. “But” he added, his tone shifting to one of possessive intensity. 

He gave a particularly deep stroke and let your head fall on his shoulder “I don’t want anyone to see you like this…” Taehyung hiss when your knees buckled. Thankfully, he had an iron grip on your wrists.

“You’re like my little pornstar… Look at that face! Fuck.” He watched your face crumble in pleasure while trying to maintain a pout. 

Taehyung’s grip on you tightened as he continued his rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate. His eyes never left your face, observing every shiver and moan that escaped you. “Don’t pout, baby.” he encouraged softly, his voice a mix of tenderness and raw need. “Come on… Remind me of how pretty you look when you cum.”

You listened to him despite all the protest. You knew he could get you to that sweet orgasm high. And after all of this teasing, you deserved it. 

“I can cum?” You asked. 

Taehyung nodded, “Yes, baby…You can ride my face if you can get yourself to squirt.” His sinister laugh filled your ears. 

You would love that. Both squirting all over him and riding his face. You ground your hips back against him, throwing him off rhythm.

Taehyung’s control wavered for a moment. His grasp got stronger for as he struggled to keep himself composed as he watched you move for him. Your body was arched. You were curled to his pleasure, your lips almost touching his chin. 

His eyes were locked on the way your hips rolled against him, the way you so willingly let yourself go. “Please… F-faster.” You requested. 

“Did I get you motivated?” Taehyung amused before taking matters into his hands. He was focused this time, the pressure building steadily as he fucked you in and out.

You let out a soft moan, gripping the sink tighter. “Yess… Just like that!” you gasped, feeling the intensity of his movements.  “Don’t stop.”

Taehyung’s breath grew heavier as he continued, his focus solely on you. “Good,” he murmured, his hands pressing firmly on your hips as he deepened his thrusts. The heat between you both grew, each movement bringing you closer to the edge as he maintained a steady, pleasurable rhythm.

Taehyung started to move again, his hips rolling against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts. He was focused this time, the pressure building steadily as he filled you. The heat between you was overwhelming, each movement pulling you deeper into the haze of pleasure. The sound of your bodies moving together was now muffled.

"Good girl," he muttered. Each thrust made your legs quake, the sound of skin slapping against skin barely audible in the chaos of the party outside.

Taehyung's gaze remained fixated on your reflection in the mirror, mesmerized by the way your body moved in perfect sync with his. His breath ragged and uneven as his fingers tightened their grip on your wrist. "I love how you take me," he groaned, his voice rough with desire, the praise sending a rush of warmth through your veins.

The pleasure mounted rapidly, the feeling of him filling you so completely that your mind went blank with need. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, consumed entirely by the sensation of Taehyung's body against yours.

You pouted at him through the mirror. You were impossibly wet. You showed no resistance whilst Taehyung pushed himself in, yet you clenching over as he was going to run away.

“Please make me cum, Taehyung…” You sniffled while your weak limps tried to keep you up. You knew this position was difficult for him. He needed to give your powerful, fast and yet precises strokes while supporting your entire body.

“Why didn’t you take me to your room?” You cried while feeling grateful that he was willing to dick you down in such a difficult position.

The way Taehyung looked at you through the mirror—dark eyes hooded with desire, lips slightly parted—made you feel completely exposed, yet utterly safe. He commanded the moment, his dominance undeniable, and you found yourself craving his control more than you ever had before.

Taehyung’s dark eyes met yours through the reflection in the mirror, his gaze smouldering with intensity. “Why didn’t I take you to my room?” he mused softly, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Because I wanted to see you if you let me do whatever I want to you… to get you so desperate.” He sighed, “You’re a sight to behold, you know that?”

The rhythm of his movements never faltered; each touch deliberate. You felt your breath quicken, the pressure in your chest building with every second, as if the weight of the connection between you was too much to bear.

“I can feel how close you are,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Let go for me, baby. I want to see everything you’re holding back.”

“Baby…” You cried. The pet names sounded sweeter when you called him. 

“That’s it,” he encouraged softly, his tone dipping into something deeper, richer, as he watched your face contort in pure bliss. “Don’t hold back. I’ve got you.”

And you believed him — that he wouldn’t let you fall, that he would hold you through it all. The bond between you in that moment was as powerful as the sensations coursing through you, and when you finally let go, it was as if everything inside you had shattered into light.

Your voice came out in a breathy moan, louder than you intended, but you didn’t care anymore. Taehyung only smirked, his satisfaction clear in the way he looked at you, proud of the effect he had on you.

Your orgasm hit with such force that your entire body convulsed, the trembling so violent it felt as though the room spun around you. Taehyung’s hands softened their grip as you shook in his arms, his movements slowing to a halt as he let you come down from the dizzying heights of your climax. The aftershocks made your muscles tighten and relax around him, and you could feel every inch of him still inside you, unmoving yet powerful. His breath came in deep, steadying exhales, giving both of you a brief respite from the overwhelming intensity.

As you leaned back against his chest, your body still humming with pleasure, you whispered, “Please continue…” Your voice was breathless, and yet there was a hunger in it, a craving that hadn’t been fully satisfied.

Taehyung’s dark eyes searched your face, concern flickering across his features. “You sure, baby?” he asked, his voice soft, as he gently stroked your arm. He could see the exhaustion in your expression, the way your body trembled in the aftermath. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you were determined. The way your gaze locked onto his made it clear. “Taetae, please…” you pleaded, the words slipping from your lips like a quiet command, even though your body felt like it could collapse any moment.

He hesitated for a beat, brushing his fingers over your sweat-dampened skin as if debating whether to give in to your request. “I came for you,” you said, your tone firmer now, despite your exhaustion. “Now, I want my prize.”

He smiled, “I am going to let you ride my face even if you don’t squirt, baby. It was just a joke.” 

You blinked at him, confusion mixing with the lingering haze of pleasure. “No… I want my prize,” you repeated, a quiet desperation in your voice. “I want you to cum in me.”

That was all it took. Taehyung’s expression shifted, his playful demeanour giving way to something darker, more intense. His eyes burned with a deep, unspoken desire as he cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing across your flushed cheeks.

“If that’s what my princess wants…” he whispered, his voice gravelly and low, sending a shiver down your spine. He adjusted his grip on you, positioning your body just right before pulling you closer again, his lips brushing your ear. “Then I’ll give it to you.”

The heat between you reignited with a force that took your breath away. Taehyung’s hands roamed over your skin, the intensity building again as he found his rhythm. His strokes were powerful, precise, each movement designed to send shockwaves through your trembling body. They were to quench his pleasure, not yours. Still, you could feel the pressure mounting once more, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you fought to keep your focus.

He dropped his head back carelessly, eyes closed as he let himself get lost in the moment, the tension in his body undeniable. You could feel him pulsing inside you, every inch of him filling you to the brim.

"You are so wet…" he muttered, voice strained and thick with desire. "You– you came for me…" The sound of his low voice was delicious. Everything about him was delicious.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his words barely audible over the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. “So beautiful, baby…”

You felt your body responding, the tension coiling tighter inside you as he continued, his pace relentless yet calculated. Your hands gripped his arms, nails digging into his skin as you held on for dear life. “Taehyung, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaky, as you felt that familiar build again.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me take care of you.”

It wasn’t long before you felt the moment cresting again, your body on the edge of another release. But this time, you were determined to take him with you. “Cum for me,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. “Please, I need you.”

Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him as you reached for that final release. The heat between you was unbearable, and with one last thrust, you felt him spill into you, his body jerking with each pulse. His deep, guttural groan filled the air as he came undone, warmth flooding your insides as he filled you completely. 

When it was over, the two of you collapsed into each other, both of you breathless and spent. Taehyung wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you rested your head against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. The warmth of his body against yours felt grounding, a reminder that you were safe in his arms.

Taehyung’s head dropped forward, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he breathed heavily, both of you coming down from the intense high together, completely spent yet utterly satisfied.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice soft as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled at how soft he got. His fiery eyes gad calmed down. 

Taehyung’s breath still uneven but slowing with every passing second. His fingers gently traced your spine, sending a comforting warmth through your body as you both lay entwined, bodies humming in the aftermath.

Slowly, he turned you around in his arms. He joined you in your chuckle. His eyes met yours with a soft, almost tender intensity. Without a word, he leaned in and captured your lips in a delicate kiss. His lips were soft, the kiss unhurried yet filled with the emotions neither of you needed to voice.

You deepened the kiss instinctively, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging him closer. But as you did, Taehyung let out a sharp hiss, his body tensing beneath you. He pulled back slightly, a half-smile playing on his lips despite the clear discomfort.

"Ahh… careful, baby," he groaned, rubbing his side gently. "You really wore me out."

You grinned mischievously at Taehyung’s groan, feeling a small sense of pride that you had worn him out.

You hugged his chest. His shirt smelt delicious despite how much he sweated.  "Aww, poor baby," you teased, playfully rubbing his chest as you kissed the side of his neck. "Maybe I should give you a massage to help you recover."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "A massage, huh? You offering to take care of me now?" His eyes glimmered with amusement as he relaxed further into your arms.

You nodded, tracing slow circles on his chest. "You crave aftercare, baby?"

Taehyung’s smirk widened as he pulled you closer, his hand running gently down your spine. “I thought you were the hit and run type.” He wrapped his arms around you once again. This time only with sensual intentions.

You shook your head, still smiling as you leaned up to kiss his jaw. "Not when you look this good..."

He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter rumbling through your body as he tilted his head to look at you. “Not that I could run away. You would pull me into another bathroom and closet the next time.”

Taehyung’s hum was low and soothing, vibrating through his chest as his lips pressed against the top of your head. The warmth of his breath tickled your hair, and the gentle pressure of his arms around you felt grounding, almost like a protective cocoon.

You shifted slightly, aware of the slickness between your thighs. The intensity of the moment had left you both physically spent and emotionally raw, and even though you were sticky and exhausted, there was something comforting about staying exactly where you were—in his arms. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your back, the slow rhythm calming the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Just as you were about to respond with another teasing remark, a loud crash echoed from outside the room, followed by shouting. You and Taehyung froze, listening as the distant sounds of chaos at the party started to creep closer. The unmistakable wail of police sirens followed, growing louder with every second.

Your heart leapt into your throat. "Oh my god," you whispered, suddenly alert. You pulled back from Taehyung’s embrace, panic bubbling in your chest. "I need to get out of here."

Taehyung glanced towards the door. "Shit," he muttered, but he didn’t seem nearly as frantic as you were. While you scrambled to find your shoes, his expression remained calm, almost amused. He reached out to grab your arm, pulling you back to him.

"Wait, babe. You don’t have to run."

You blinked at him, wide-eyed. "Are you kidding? The cops are literally outside, Taehyung!"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his fingers brushing your arm as he grinned. “Stay over… I’ll share my bed. I promise."

You stared at him, incredulous. "Stay the night?"

Taehyung’s smirk returned, but there was a softness in his eyes as he tugged you back into his lap. "I’m dead serious. We’ll be fine. Besides," he added, his voice dropping lower, "you promised me a massage. I could really use it right now."

Despite the urgency of the situation, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his words seep into your nerves, calming the panic you’d felt moments ago. You sighed, biting your lip as you glanced between him and the door.

"Taehyung..." you started, but the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin made it harder to think about running. The tension in his muscles, the gentle glint in his eyes—he was pulling you back in, just like always.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Stay with me. You’ll give me that massage you promised, and I’ll eat you out. Deal?"

Your resolve melted under his touch, the panic slowly dissipating as you let out a shaky breath. "Fine," you muttered, finally giving in. "But if we get arrested, I’m blaming you."

Taehyung laughed, a low rumble that vibrated through your body as he hugged you tight. "Deal," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Now, how about we forget the sirens and start with that massage?"

He tugged on your arm like a little child.

You shivered slightly at the thought. His offer was undeniably tempting, an indulgence that was hard to resist. The thought of escaping the chaos outside was a big bonus to staying the night.

You looked back at him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and desire. “Okay,” you murmured, your voice soft but resolute. “I’ll stay.” 

Taehyung’s grin widened, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. 

Taehyung’s smile broadened, a look of satisfaction settling on his face. “Great,” he said, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “Let’s leave quickly. You can use the en-suite if you want to freshen up.”

While he tucked his dick in and pulled up his pants,  a sudden wave of frustration washed over you.

You pulled away slightly, a frown creasing your forehead. “Wait a minute,” you said, your voice tight with irritation. “You have a private bathroom, and you took me to this random bathroom for… what?”

Taehyung blinked, his expression shifting from amusement to concern. “I didn’t think—”

You cut him off, your frustration bubbling over. Taehyung’s face softened, and he reached out to gently touch your arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. I wanted to be spontaneous..”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “You are impossible,” you said, your voice softening. “I just—” you paused, looking at him with a hint of vulnerability, “I am going to fuck you in public space too!” You were definitely going to pull him in a situation where he will need to fuck you in a cramped space.

Taehyung’s eyes lit up with a mix of affection and admiration. He wrapped his one arm around you, placed his other arm under your legs to lift you effortlessly. “Of course,” he said, his voice tender. “Let’s get you to my bed.”

He opened the door of the bathroom. The cool air hit both of your faces. With you in his arms, he barely fit through the door. “Ouch, my back!” You whined.

Taehyung chuckled softly as he maneuvered through the narrow doorway, his arms firm around you. “Hold on,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement mixed with sympathy. He carefully adjusted his grip, making sure you were secure and comfortable despite the tight fit.

As he stepped out into the hallway, the cool air was a welcome relief after the heat of the previous moments. The hallway was dimly lit, and the sound of muffled music from the party downstairs seemed faint and distant now.

“Taehyung, be quick! We’ll get arrested!” You said, worriedly looking down the stairs.

“Almost there,” Taehyung reassured you, his steps measured as he carried you up the stairs. Each step was steady, though you could feel the strain in his muscles as he navigated the stairs with you in his arms.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Taehyung paused momentarily, adjusting his hold on you. “We have at least ten minutes, baby.” He said with a soft laugh.

He reached the door to his private room and gently nudged it open with his foot. The room was a sanctuary of calm, with its warm, inviting decor and soft lighting that created a cozy ambiance. He carefully crossed the threshold after taking off his shoes all while making sure not to jostle you too much.

As he approached the bed, Taehyung lowered you gently onto the soft, plush surface. The bed was spacious and inviting, with a comforter that promised a haven of relaxation.

He settled beside you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of affection and concern. “You okay?” he asked, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

You nodded, feeling the tension from earlier melting away. “Yeah, I’m good,” you said softly. “Thanks for carrying me.”

He winked at you and returned the look his door. 

“Do you think cops will get us too?” You asked while pushing your shoes off.

Taehyung smiled, his expression a blend of relief and satisfaction. “No, baby.” he said, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “Don’t worry about that. Just relax.”

With a casual flick, Taehyung picked up your shoes and tossed them toward the door, where they landed in a haphazard pile. He then climbed onto the bed beside you, letting out a groan of relief as his back sank into the soft mattress. The exhaustion was evident in his relaxed posture, but his smile was full of satisfaction.

“I’ll get the shower going for you in just a bit,” he said, his voice softening as he settled more comfortably. 

As Taehyung settled into the bed, you turned towards him, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence. You moved closer and wrapped your arms around his broad chest, nestling into him. His body was solid and reassuring beneath your touch, and the softness of the mattress seemed to amplify the safety you felt in his embrace.

Taehyung's smile grew as he felt your affectionate hug. He sighed contentedly; his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he basked in the loving closeness. Your touch was soothing, and he felt a deep sense of peace wash over him.

You pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks, your fingers brushed through his pretty locks. Taehyung's eyes fluttered closed, his breathing deepening as he began to drift towards sleep. The softness of your kisses and the warmth of your body against his made it difficult for him to stay awake.

Just before he slipped completely into the realm of dreams, you whispered softly, your voice carrying a hint of desire. “Taehyung, when can I ride your face?”

Taehyung's eyes opened shot. “Y/N!”

————

If you like this, please give it a like and reblog. Also, you MUST check my other works. masterlist | drunk love | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | heat | Puppy Daddy |

[1-800-ur-cyber-slxtt]

would it be possible to write another w2s smut? i eat them up theyre so good 😭😭

𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒; 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒

summary: harry and reader are friends, nothing else. sure sometimes they flirt, sometimes their eyes linger on one another for a minute or two longer than a friends gaze should but that means nothing, right? one night after their friend group goes out drinking reader and harry end up back at his apartment, neither of them thinking straight. and when morning rolls around reader flees.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut, unprotected, p in v, walk of shame, drunk sex, shitty writing, ???

notes: definitely seems to call for a part two. comment ideas, e.g, they get together, hook up or things go bad and it ruins their friendship. this took me quite awhile to write and I feel like it sucks but thank you for the request! hope everyone enjoys!

divider credit: @xxbimbobunnyxx 

One shot turned into four, four turned into six and six turned into a number I’d come to regret even more when I woke up tomorrow. 

The alcohol quickly turned into liquid courage as soon as it slid down my throat. The same had happened to Harry, his usual awkward self turning confident, brave enough for us to both end up back at his apartment, clothes gone, abandoned in a trail leading to his room. 

His lips lay wet open mouthed kisses along my neck, sloppy but desperate. His bare chest grazing mine with each movement, my legs hooked around his waist, keeping him close. 

Neither of us were thinking straight, thoughts replaced with a primal need. Once morning rolled around and we’d both come to realise what we’d done, what would happen from there I wasn’t sure but I had a feeling it would alter our friendship forever. For the better or worse. But for now our bodies stay intertwined, moving in sync and drowning in desire. 

My manicured nails travel up his back, feeling the softness of his skin until they reach his head, fingers raking through the short blonde hair and tugging on it. A groan falls from his lips next to my ear, the sound sending a jolt of desperation straight between my thighs.

Harry and I had been friends for years but not once had we involved in anything romantic. Sure there was the occasional flirty banter, lingering stares and what could only be described as handsy moments, but nothing had ever happened. 

One of Harry’s large hands gripped at my thigh, holding it by his hip, the other rested on the bed just above my head. “Waited so long.”, he grunts voice gruff with desire, the tip of his cock spreading open my folds but never fully entering.

Soft whimpers spill from my swollen lips. My nails dig into the skin of his shoulder, leaving behind thin red marks. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as I’m sure he could mine everytime our lips met.

Involuntarily my hips buck up, searching for any kind of relief. The movement causing Harry’s throbbing cock to slide inside of me, a sharp gasp coming from both of us. He didn’t waste anymore time, his hips thrusting in and out at a fast pace. The heels of my feet digging into his lower back. A pain that only added to the pleasure.  

My head was dizzy from both the alcohol and arousal. “S’ good.”, the blond slurs as he buries himself deeper, his head coming down to nuzzle in the crook of my neck, sucking and biting messily. 

My head tilts up into the pillow beneath giving greater access to Harry. The hand on my thigh travels up my body, groping at my tit. He rolls the hard bud between two fingers, moans and whimpers echoing through the room. 

His hips roll against mine. His lips trailing down my body until he reaches my nipple, pinched between two fingers as his tongue swirls around the hardened bud. My back arches up into him, his movements losing their rhythm and becoming erratic. 

My climax was close approaching, drawing nearer with every snap of his hips into mine. My words seem to come out even more slurred, barely a coherent sentence, “Almost-, can’t-” 

Harry’s head nods feverishly, his eyes unfocused and hazy. He knew what I meant because he was feeling the same, everytime my walls clenched around him, his cock twitched, so desperate for release. 

My name falls from his lips like honey, as does his from mine. We rock back and forward, the pair of us a sweaty mess, reaching our highs simultaneously. My body shakes and shudders under his, the hot coil in my stomach tightening before it snaps. 

Trying to find an anchor I dig my nails into the flesh of his shoulder and large bicep. My legs barely have the strength to stay wrapped around him. My head spins, mind clouded with ecstasy. 

Harry keeps up his unrhythmic thrusts as ripples of pleasure run along my body leaving goosebumps in their wake. With a final string of moans and cries I reach my climax, pulsing and squeezing around Harry’s length. 

He gets me through my orgasm, chasing his own. Our breathing is heavy and ragged, mine disrupted by soft whimpers, sensitive to the over stimulation. It doesn’t last long however, as Harry summons a final sharp thrust, releasing in a hot spurt. 

He pulls out and collapses next to me, taking me into his arms. He lifts an arm and moves away a piece of hair from my face. We share a smile. “You were so great.”, Harry husks, voice hoarse. 

Exhausted we soon fall into a deep slumber, wrapped up in eachother. Nothing had to be said tonight, neither of us were in a state to be talking.  

The sun rose outside, sunlight streaking through the curtains and covering the room in rays of golden light. The morning came with a throbbing headache and a fuzzy memory. It took me a minute to register the weight against my waist, another to realise it was an arm. 

I follow the arm to find Harry lying on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow facing the other direction. The sight of him and his messy hair, marked back and the state of the sheets wrapped around our very naked bodies cause the memories to come flooding back. 

I watch the slow rise and fall of his body, making sure he’s still asleep. Confident that he is, I carefully try to slip out from under him, untangling our legs first. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. 

Finally out from under him, I begin gathering my clothes. Upon realising most of them were outside of Harry's room I let out a curse under my breath, silently praying that I wouldn’t get caught by his roommates, our friends.

Luckily, my bra and panties were in Harry’s room. Once I’d gotten them on I sheepishly made my way out into the main living area. I’d only been to Harry’s apartment a couple of times before but the surroundings were still familiar. I close his door behind me slowly, hoping to avoid a loud squeak or click. 

As I turn around to continue my quest of finding last night's outfit, I’m startled by a tall Calfreezy standing on the other side of the living room near the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand. The both of us are frozen in place, the same stunned look on both our faces. 

“Cal.”, I stammer unsure of how to approach the situation at hand. I stay standing before him in nothing but my undergarments, Harry blissfully unaware and asleep in the room next to me.

Cal finally lifts the mug to his lips, he speaks before he takes a sip, “So that’s where the two of you got to last night.” I don’t miss the slight smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips, a knowing gleam in his eyes. 

I swallow, nodding my head slowly. Now not only would I have to deal with Harry but also endure the torment from the rest of our friends that Cal would no doubt tell. “I think I’m just gonna get my clothes…”, I say awkwardly, an embarrassed blush forming on my cheeks. 

In the moment I couldn’t find anything lighthearted to say to lighten the mood. Cal however did not have the same problem, “Not gonna stay for a cuppa?”, he pauses briefly before he lets out a tut, “Walking out on a one night stand before he wakes up, Y/n? Classy.” 

I start gathering my clothes, his comment draws a chuckle from me. “I think I would rather not stay to suffer the awkwardness of the morning after conversation.” I slip on my short skirt followed by my even skimpier top. Nothing like the walk of shame. 

“Fair enough.”, Cal decides, taking another sip. He goes into the kitchen to put his (what I assume is now empty) mug in the sink. I take a seat on the couch to put on my shoes. I went as fast as I could, a quick exit was the best exit. By surprise my purse was here too, along with my phone inside. Wouldn’t have been the first time I’d lost them on a night out.

“So, you and Harry, eh?”, the tall blonds voice rings through the air as he walks back in, now without the cup. 

I don’t know how to respond, I didn’t have any of the answers to the questions Cal had. I shrug my shoulders, “It was nothing.” Maybe that was harsh, maybe it wasn’t, either way Cal doesn’t comment. He just simply nods as I stand up. 

“I’ll see you then.”, I give him a small smile before I keep heading to the door. I hear a quick ‘yeah’ from behind me and that’s that. 

I go out the door and I don’t look back. 

[perfectlyoongi]

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who takes showers with you just for the intimacy. it was the silence of the moment, the purity of the intimacy, the way you two felt so comfortable with each other with something that had become so vile and perverse by society, that made Taehyung venerate your baths together; no words, just Taehyung's gentle touch across your body, as you rest on his chest and feel the tranquility of your love. “i like this, you know? of our intimacy. how none of us feel obliged to be something other than ourselves.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who only trusts your opinion when it comes to his clothes. before leaving the house or when he goes shopping, Taehyung always asks your opinion about his outfit, patiently waiting for your honest reaction, never feeling bad when the feedback comes back negative — after all, he just wanted to continue to impress you, it was only your opinion that mattered. “tomorrow i have to buy a new coat. do you want to come with me? i would like to have your opinion.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who loves coming home and lying down with you, his head resting on your chest. Taehyung couldn't live a whole day without having your affection; in an extremely stressful and quite complicated job, it was in your arms that Taehyung found peace and serenity, the way you touched his hair, his face, his arm, took Taehyung to a distant land of dreams and rest. “today was so tiring. all i could think about was how you would be here for me and make me feel good again.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who takes your perfume with him on tour, just so he can deal with missing you. it was a simple memory, something that could last the long weeks of touring the world without ever losing its value; your perfume was intoxicating, something so delicate and beautiful that made Taehyung remember all the hugs and kisses and caresses and moments he had spent with you. “i promise i won’t spend it all. please. i really need something that reminds me of you or i'll go crazy. seriously!”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who accompanies you on any and all purchases you make just to share some mundane time with you. whether it was for groceries or clothes, an electronic item or a gift for someone, Taehyung was always by your side, giving his opinion, holding your hand and always walking with a smile on his lips because he was next to the one he loved. “oh, do you need help picking a gift? i don't mind going with you. can i? i just want to feel normal for a moment. please.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who watches the stars and clouds with you while trying to discover shapes and meanings among them. lying on the grass, your head on his belly, you and Taehyung told stories with the various shapes you saw in the sky, laughter flowing as naturally as time passed, endless memories of tales created comforting your hearts. “that star is so bright! oh, and next to it those stars form a heart. see? even the heavens believe that our future will be bright.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who only said he loved you when you confessed first, a huge weight leaving his heart as soon as the words left his mouth. as soon as he heard your confession, Taehyung's heart began to beat quickly without having any time to assimilate what he just had heard, his words running after yours to try to embrace them. “oh, thank god. yes. finally. i love you. i love you. i love you so much. oh my god.”

[mikassaviola]

Release | KTH

One Shot

Description: Reader is really horny and needs to cum, only one person can make her, her ex boyfriend. So she finds herself at his apartment begging for him to fuck her.

Warnings: Porn with little plot, begging, oral (f receiving), degradation, titty sucking, choking, rough sex, orgasm denial (f), multiple orgasms (m), powerhouse Taehyung (iykyk), putting reader in place, sexy Taehyung, mention of shower sex.

A/N: here goes nothing.... With my first smut.

-------------------------------------------------

It had been 2 months since your break up. Two months since you orgasmed. No you didn't have sex with anyone else because you already knew it'd end up in you being disappointed.

You were ruined by Taehyung, being together in a healthy sexual relationship for so long does that to you.

You were over jealous that day when a girl offered to pour him a drink and he accepted it.

Never apologized to you, never came back, didn't text but fuck it. Fuck everything.

You reached out your hand to press the bell outside his apartment, it was almost 3 am and you were craving his touch.

So much that you think you'd die. You heard the rustling behind the door, didn't know how he'd react seeing you after this long.

Didn't know if he wanted you to be there or not, you were ready to beg. For him to take you in. Love you, spoil you, touch you, fuck you.

You fiddled with your t-shirt, a grey one with grey trousers and black sneakers.

It was 3 am after all. The door opened and your heart hammered inside your chest at the sight of him.

Gorgeous, dark black messy hair falling slightly over his eyes and slightly loose black t-shirt and trousers. Fuck.

"Are you okay?", He asked startled to see you this late. His mind wandering to multiple possibilities never too close to the reason you were actually at his doorstep.

"No?", You said more like questioned as he stepped aside and you entered. You can talk to him.

Talk about shit, everything. But your body ached for him. You faced him after he closed the door. He was so hot.

Gorgeous. Handsome. Beautiful. Ethereal. Unreal. Flawless.

"What hap-", He was cut off when you stepped forward pressing your body to his, pressing your lips on his.

Fuck his pretty mouth can talk to you later.

Your hands went around his neck, pulling him closer and closer. He was quick to catch you in his arms, his huge hands going around your back pressing it to pull you closer.

You were weak, vulnerable. His slight action made you whimper in his mouth.

Taehyung groaned when his crotch pressed into your lower abdomen and you felt his hardness. He just woke up after all.

"Please Taehyung fuck me, I can't"- You took a step back taking off your t-shirt and then continuing. "Take it anymore".

Taehyung's gaze landed on your breast, he sucked in a breath. You must've taken a cab to come here.

Your nipples were already hard. You were in a cab with no bra as you came here. Taehyung thought and found it so hot.

Two months he had been craving to see you and here you were equally if not more eager to let him fuck you.

"Ah baby wanna get fucked? Is that the problem? Is that why you're here at fucking 3 am?", Taehyung asked, his voice getting deeper. Eyes getting hazy as he pulled you in by your hair and kissed you hard.

You were equally eager, matching his pace, his hand roaming on your body as he pulled away and squeezed your left boob a little harshly.

"Say it", He said pressing you on the wall making you gasp.

"Yes, please", You murmured, taking off your shoes trying to get as close as possible.

The familiar cologne, his scent, his touch, his body. You had it right now.

"Fuck, you threw us all away though", Taehyung mocked pulling your body to his making you whine as he pulled you in his embrace walking to his bedroom.

"'M sorry baby, please just make me cum", You cried out when he threw you on the bed and pulled on your trousers, completely naked.

"Yeah? Aren't you just being greedy?", He said standing tall over your laying frame as he pulled up his t-shirt giving you the view you desired to see.

Then he comes to you. (Like he's doing in the gif)

His hand is tracing up your thighs making your body warm, pussy wet, back buckled.

You swear you could cry, and he didn't even touch your clit yet.

"Do you want it here?", Taehyung asked pressing his index finger on your clit making you moan.

"P-please", You moaned out feeling the pressure that was increasing as he rubbed your slit up and down. Up and down.

Making you whine and moan but not doing anything else. "You are so fucking wet darling", Taehyung mused making you shudder.

Taehyung suffered too, you were childish. Throwing away everything for something that could've been solved through simple talk and Taehyung smirked enjoying how you came to him.

He didn't imagine it to be this way. You were always reserved but here you were moaning out his name as he pressed his lips on your clit and entered two fingers inside without a warning.

"Fuck, so full Tae -ah-", You murmured, you moaned. Pressing his head further into your cunt as he pumped his fingers in and out his other hand cupping your boob making you whine out.

"So good", You moaned as his fingers curled around your g spot, his tongue rolling around your hole tasting you and just when you were about to let go he pulled back.

"Taehyung what the fuck", You choked out as he looked at you with a smirk getting up and pulling his trousers down.

"You think you'd come to me after months like an irresponsible greedy whore and I'd do what you want", He hissed taking his huge thick length in his hands as you breathed out heavily just staring at him grieving due to the loss of your orgasm.

He pumped himself once, twice.

"I'll do anything", You whispered and he climbed over you looking into your eyes intensely.

"Anything you say", He said pushing himself inside you in an instant making you gasp.

"Taehyung fuck", You said and he groaned.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight, no one fucked you good when I wasn't there huh?", He rambled, your hands roaming over his body settling on his back when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in.

"Ah, you fuck you got bigger", You moaned pulling his head and kissing his lips as he started thrusting into you.

Fast and hard thrusts making your body rub roughly against his bedsheet as the bed creaked.

"My girl, my pussy, my fucking cunt", Taehyung growled pulling up your right leg to put over his shoulder pushing his dick further in filling you completely.

"Ah fuck I'm gonna"-

"Hold it", Taehyung said, the authority in hsi voice made you shiver. His thrusts never stop. He was pounding into you.

And you loved every single touch of him. You missed this. You missed him.

You missed him fucking you like this.

"I can't anymore ah", You cried out fisting his bed sheet as his hand found your neck.

"Hold", He simply said and after a few thrusts came inside you, filling you up completely and then pulled out, leaving you hanging on the brink.

You had tears in your eyes.

"You're so mean", You whimpered a few tears escaping your eyes out of all the frustration. The build up in your stomach reduces to nothing as your pussy aches for more.

You sobbed as Taehyung smiled.

"Aw my poor innocent baby, thought she could get what she wanted after putting me through shit for two months", Taehyung cooed kissing your cheek making you whimper. His hands drawing circles on your waist as he sucked on your neck.

"Taehyung, I please. Please please please let me -ah- cum", You said in between sobs as he marked you going lower until he had your nipple in his mouth.

He rolled the other one around in his hand, rolling, pinching, squeezing.

"Please fuck me!?", You asked again softly, innocently. It catches Taehyung's attention as he looks at you. Your hazy brown eyes. Slightly teary, desperate asking for you to fuck him.

"Good girl, let me do that, hm?", He murmured holding the underside of your knees and pressing them to your chest and just stared at your cunt for a while.

"Baby you're leaking out so much", Taehyung ended the sentences while entering you.

"Fuck", You squeezed your eyes shut, your cunt sucked him in again as he started thrusting again.

"My little cock slut, so greedy", Taehyung sighs thrusting deeper and harder making his cum leak out of your pussy as you moaned.

"Please just please", you choked out, had no idea what you wanted now that he gave everything to you well except for an orgasm.

"Fucking cunt was made for me, huh? The audacity to take it away", Taehyung growled completely in control, your legs shaking from the pressure he was putting on them.

Just when your squeezes get tighter, moans become higher and all senses of sanity fly out of your mind Taehyung stops and pulls out, pumping himself a few times and comes over your waist leaving you hanging. Again.

-

"Please please let me cum this time, please Taehyung", You cried begging in hopes that he'd listen to you.

"Mhm, my slut thinks she deserves to cum", Taehyung mused pounding hard into your cunt having already cum four times inside you.

You were shaking and trembling and sore but you needed to cum.

"Fuck", Taehyung whined cumming into you and pulling out again making you cry.

"Please", You almost scream from the frustration so Taehyung put 3 fingers in your cunt.

"Cum", He said pumping into you cunt.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And you came, harder than you've ever done, letting go.

The ache disappearing but Taehyung didn't stop. The pleasure took you over the moon as you moaned more.

"Holy shit baby, give it to me. So weak for me", He said and you realised what was happening you squirted. Your moaning didn't stop, letting out a shaky sigh when you were done.

"You are mean", You said to Taehyung after a while of catching your breath. He sat you on his lap kissing your eyes and tear strained cheeks, rubbing your back.

"Mm, deserved", He murmured into your lips kissing you softly tracing your thighs that doesn't look like they'll stop shaking.

"I'm sorry for everything", You sighed simply leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I know, you could've cummed but held on, did so well for me. My good girl", Taehyung said kissing your neck and then carrying you up.

"I'll sort out the sheets, you turn on the shower, will be right back", Taehyung smiled kissing your cheek and you smiled back turning on the shower and setting it on mildly warm.

Taehyung joined you after a good ten minutes.

"Missed you", You said wrapping your hands around him making him smile.

"Mhm, I know", He said turning you around, pressing your front on the wall and aligning his dick on your entrance.

"Taeh-", You gasped when he entered.

"Be a good girl and we'll cum together, yeah?", Taehyung murmured and you just moaned getting ready for another round.

[junosmindpalace]

May I request Senku developing a crush on his childhood friend after the petrification? fem!reader if possible (if not gn!reader is completely fine)

hope you have a good day :)

Something is different. 

Senku isn’t referring to his environment, which is so far removed from everything he used to know and love. Instead of brick buildings and concrete pavements, there is seemingly never ending forestry, green and gravel beneath the heels of his makeshift shoes. 

It isn’t Senku’s clothing, which is only some thin tattered animals skins that he had spent days working to hunt down the material for, then skin, then tan, and then stitch together with whatever he could to make the haphazard, ugly garment he wears on the regular to provide him with whatever kind of protection from the elements he can with the resources available to him. It’s a stark contrast to the color he used to wear long ago. 

It isn’t even the new friends (and enemies) he’s made since freeing himself from his petrified state. A whole village of people, now, who look toward him for guidance and instruction, upon him with admiration and reverence. People who help him against the newfound stakes, newfound work, newfound responsibilities that haven’t in the slightest been easy to take on. 

Something is different, and amongst nearly everything in his life becoming dirt and dust nearly overnight, Senku is referring to something different about you. 

But he isn’t referring to the environment he’s used to seeing you in, a school setting, perhaps a park, maybe his own room. There’s no new observation to make about a change in your room or a decoration in your locker, because like him, those things are long gone. 

It isn’t your appearance, a similar reflection of your new environments and state of the world. Random pieces of tanned skin poorly stitched into something that resembled clothing, a Frankenstien’s monster of a garment. More simple and plain assuming compared to the various designs and fabrics you wore way back when you’d spend time on an experiment with Senku. He watched you mature from one phase of your life into the next, and this was no different.

It wasn’t even the new people you surround yourself with, found comfort within. It wasn’t listening to their stories, the things that made these people, so far removed from your time, human. It wasn’t the small, pleasant things that he knew grounded you when you got too caught up in your head, the new habits you made out of retrieving materials, crafting things to keep your hands (and mind) busy, new skills you learned (or were forced to learn) and previous skills you learned to develop.

But for the life of him, Senku cannot figure out what it is that’s different. He drives himself a little further mad each time he looks on at you. There’s something in his mind, almost like an itch, that intrusively takes hold on the rest of his senses when there’s a moment between the two of you, whether it’s a quiet one, whether it’s one of shared excitement or mutual understanding. There’s a warmth and a chill that wash over him at the same time when your gaze settles on him a little too intensely, or when you say something wise and agreeable. There is something he’s missing, and he can’t figure out what. 

Maybe it’s your laugh that’s different, though Senku doesn’t know why that would be a thing of prominent notice, or notice at all. It’s a little rougher, and at times with a little less heart than he’s accustomed to after so many years of hearing it bright and enthusiastic. But it’s still kind, and most of all, genuine. Perhaps something about that makes it distinguishable from another. 

Or perhaps it was your new approach to, your new outlook on, life. No, perhaps it was the way you applied your already existing approaches and outlooks to your new, unique circumstances. To help cope, to help others, to help him. 

It was something different, Senku was sure of it. However, he hasn’t had much time to linger on what could possibly be the source of such…irritation, for very long. 

Perhaps a more irritating point was the fact that Senku could hardly place a time when he first observed this difference. 

At the very least, he could estimate it to be sometime after the both of you emerged from the stone. 

The simplest solution, perhaps, could be for him to just ask you directly. It’s the easiest way to confirm or deny hypotheses’. He would ask if you had gotten haircuts in the past, ask if you had gotten any sleep after noticing prominent circles under your eyes and sluggish movements. This was no different.

But when Senku finds himself hesitating on an evening when the two of you are working in the lab together, Senku thinks that maybe this is the different thing. For some reason, he’s slower to communicating such personal things, despite it being nothing more than simple, casual and menial conversation. 

You’ve had hundreds of conversations about a million different things over the years, from careers you aspire to pursue in earnest to the more daunting topics about love and loss. He’s seen every side of you, good and ugly, he’s heard every side of you. Every insecurity, every point of pride, about every friend who’s come and gone and stayed behind; and in a more Senku like fashion, you’ve heard the same from him, in that straightforward and logical way of communicating that you’ve always been able to see through from the wavers in his voice to the passionate glints in his eyes. 

But something is different. Something has been different. 

Yet the two of you work away in the lab as if it were any other evening, the twinkling stars in the sky he admires so much hidden away by the walls and bamboo roof. It’s what you’ve been doing since you’ve established some sort of lab to work out of ever since the petrification. Senku has felt quite disturbed by this difference of yours, but at the very least, he finds it comforting that it doesn’t affect this routine that the two of you established early on in your relationship. The content, collaborative efforts the two of you put in to create something satisfying, worthwhile; exciting. 

It’s what he’s always felt with you in your relationship. Thrill to indulge in something he’s passionate about together, thrill to create something with you, thrill to be with you--

Senku pauses his work for a moment. He shifts his gaze from the notes in front of him to where you stand just down the opposite end of the table, completely enamored with the tests you were performing. 

Something is different. He thinks, at that moment, that he’s almost figured out what. 

But the realization he was about to reach disappears from him suddenly, and he can’t seem to become conscious of the conclusion when he stares at you. He tries desperately to recall it, reach for it in his mind, through a frantic look at your features. The warm light against your skin, the gentle movement of your hands, the concentrated furrow of your brows. 

His heart feels like it might burst out of frustration the more he looks at you, and he forces himself to turn away. It’s there, it was there!

(And it still was.)

He’ll figure it out eventually.

[bangtangalicious]

Can I request a drabble w Tae where the reader is innocent and she approaches him saying she couldn't sleep or smthing? And tae fingers her shdhfhfiioj . And she has no clue of his intentions?👉👈 I really enjoy your smut fics sm!

pairing: taehyung x reader

tw: 18+ only, smut, fingering, praise, manipulation

His eyes swept over you, trembling in the cold midnight air. Nipples taught against the flimsy oversized t-shirt you had on.

You blinked at him, wide eyes without a taint of judgement. "I can't sleep" The pout on your lips, delectable.

Sighing deeply, Taehyung crawled into your bed. Not minding the heat that seared through his skin as he came into contact with you.

Legs tangling with yours.

Were you not wearing panties?

He cursed.

His fingers caressed the top of your head when really he wanted to dip them into your sweet little cunt. You would like that, wouldn't you? Why else would you invite him into your bed like this, legs spread, so eager?

His teeth dug into his lips, you were too innocent to realize what you did to him. It wasn't his fault! He was a wretched man, he only had so much self-control.

"Can't sleep, huh?" He whispered darkly, pulling you closer. Tracing the tops of your thigh.

You giggled, pressing your face into his chest. "Tae, w-what, that tickles!"

He shushed you. Lips dusting over yours with a stern look in his eyes.

"Close your eyes"

He watched you gulp with unease. "Taehyung--"

"Close them"

You did. He watched your lids flutter shut as his fingers trailed up, brushing against your clit. A shaky breath left your lips, goosebumps all over you as his dark whispers pressed behind your ear.

"Shh, just relax" His voice was incredibly deep. Vibrating straight to your core. He smirked, feeling your wetness against the pads of his finger. Drawing soft, gentle circles into you.

Without warning he slipped one finger inside. Easily, a soft squelch making him shudder with need. He could feel your heat clench. You were so tight, but that didn't stop him from sliding in one more.

Unknowingly, you spread your legs wider. Wanting to feel his fingers even deeper. He drew them out. Slid them back in. A soft rhythm, burning through you.

"Just like that, good girl" His breath was hot against you. Thumb resting on your clit as he continued to fuck you open with his fingers. "So fucking wet for me baby"

You gasped. Letting Taehyung know you were far from asleep. He scoffed, digging his teeth against your ear.

"Still can't sleep?" He teased darkly. Your eyes flew open, shot with lust. No part of your body was in control as you reached for his face, pressing your lips against his, hard. Desperate. Wanting to swallow him whole.

"Tae" You groaned into his mouth, as his fingers began pistoning even faster.

"My baby gonna come?" He cooed, "Gonna come all over my fingers, hm?"

There was no hiding your moans. The sweet part of your lips as you began to tremble, shocked coursing through your body as you leaked into his palm. He flicked his wrist, guiding you through your orgasm.

"There you go baby, so fucking good" He licked your jaw, aftershocks consuming you as his fingers continued to dig deep.

A wave of ease swept over you. Your eyes finally settling shut. Taehyung kissed you one final time, lips lingering over yours.

"Now sleep, my love" He whispered sweetly, a smile pressing against you. "Sweet dreams"

He knew you had no idea what he had just done to you. But the thought of you wandering to him every restless night begging him to make you come again so you could sleep...

Sweet dreams indeed.

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Be Embarrassed

Sam Riordan x Reader

Prompt: You take care of Sam and he takes care of you.

Warnings: autistic reader having an autistic meltdown, talk of mental hospitals, mentions of sex, walking in on friends having sex, spoilers for episode 4

A/N: Although there is no smut, because we’re only 4 episodes in and Sam doesn’t have a confirmed age I’m writing this under the assumption that he’s college age 18+. This boy is taking up most of my brain space this week. We don’t have a lot of info on the the character, but this is how I see his vibes. I crossposted this on my ao3 adriansglasses. Also this is my first non Adrian fic in quite sometime! Hope ya’ll enjoy!

You were on your way back from class when you heard yelling coming from down the hallway. You had been hanging out with Sam for the day and left him for two hours to go to class. You rushed to your dorm, quickly fishing out your keys.

“Hey hey hey what’s going on?” You asked him, placing your hands out, waiting to see if he’ll let you touch him.

“It was supposed to be a good day! A good day! But apparently I can’t even fucking do that!” He yells. The Woods had done a toll on him and he was still recovering. He had been doing a lot better lately, but everyone knows healing isn’t linear.

“Sam, it’s okay. You’re okay.” You give him a smile. “You had a good day yesterday and the day before that! It’s okay to have a bad day, Sam.”

“But I was doing so good…” He sounds defeated. You slowly grow closer to him. When he doesn’t back away you place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know and I’m so proud of you, but healing isn’t linear. There’s gonna be bad days. Even people who are… for lack of a better word ‘normal’ have bad days.” You roll your eyes and throw air quotes around the word normal. You didn’t always have the best words to describe what you were thinking, but Sam always knew what you meant. Usually college friendships and relationships formed and moved fast, but even with that Sam was different. You felt like you could be yourself around him in ways you couldn’t be around others.

It felt that way since the beginning. Sure the day you met Sam was overstimulating, rushed, and tense, but after you and your friends convinced him not to kill the doctor that completely ruined his life, you got to know him a little more the next day.

“So what’s your power?” He asks.

“What?”

“Your power. You must be a supe if you go to Godolkin.”

“Oh! Yeah uh…right… It’s stupid.” You sigh, avoiding eye contact. The gravel below your feet comes into detail. You pay attention to the sparkles of the rocks being hit by the sun instead of Sam.

“It can’t be that bad. Just tell me.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“I uh… I feel like any way I word it will sound weird, but my bodily fluids are like acid, so uh like my tears and spit and stuff. Told you it was weird.”

“No! That’s cool! I’ve seen way worse. You should have seen some of my roommates at my old place.” He jokes. You laugh quietly with him.

“So all of your stuff is acid?” He asks. You nod.

“How do you pee? Do you just like melt toilets every time you piss?” He asks. You laugh.

“No, I guess my body has some way of controlling it, but I don’t know. I haven’t really figured it out consciously.”

“I was gonna say, that would be really cool if you could piss acid. Just like pee on all your enemies. That would be cool as fuck.” He laughs. You don’t know why at the time, but there’s just something so comforting about him.

“That’s gross. You’re sick.” You laugh.

“Oh trust me I know. You don’t go through multiple mental hospitals just being normal.”

You knew he was joking, but the way he said normal struck a cord in you. You didn’t see him as wrong, but you knew what he meant. You often felt… knew… you weren’t normal either.

You were there for Sam just as much as he was for you. It took you a long time to accept his help. It took a while for him to convince you that you weren’t a burden. The first time you had a meltdown in front of him was a very vulnerable moment for you. You hadn’t been that vulnerable with anyone like that in a long time.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them.” You fumed, pacing the room, so blinded by your anger you had forgotten you were with Sam. You had promised him you could watch Waterworld after class because you’d never seen it before and it was his favorite movie.

“She is such a fucking bitch. Why the fuck didn’t she fucking tell me?! She could have put a fucking sock on the door or sent a text or fucking something Jesus fucking Christ! Like I love her, but fuck!” You were beyond angry. After an already overstimulating day and a failed assignment handed back, you were already on edge before you walked in on Jordan and Marie. Now sexiled to the lounge while your roommate finishes with his girlfriend, not caring about your plans at all.

“I fucking told him too! I told him you were coming over!” You say, upset, and quite honestly still in shock, not expecting to see two of your friends fucking on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Maybe they just forgot.” Sam proposes.

“How could she fucking forget what time I come home every fucking Tuesday?!” You huff, sitting down on the couch. You sit in silence before thinking it over.

“No, you’re right… they probably just forgot…” You feel a pit in your stomach and tears starting to well up in your eyes. You try to keep them at bay. You don’t need an acid leak today. “Yeah Jordan totally forgot. Oh fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad.” You feel your body crumbling in on itself. You hate getting mad. You were so scared of your own anger. You also felt like Jordan didn’t deserve it. Yeah he could be an ass sometimes, but Jordan was your roommate and your friend.

“Hey what’s going on you look upset- well more upset than you were before… okay maybe not more upset, but a different kind of upset…” Sam’s voice trails off. He wasn’t always the best with words either.

“I just feel so bad.” The tears start to slip down your face.

“Why do you feel bad? You just walked in on two of your friends having sex in your own room. It’s never happened to me, but I think it’s normal to be annoyed.” He sits down next to you. When he gets a closer look at your face he sees the red marks on your cheeks. You were used to the burn by now. You hated crying, but sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself. Sam moves to wipe away some of your tears.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” You ask.

“They used to electrocute me daily at the Woods. This is nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” The ache in your stomach grows. You feel like such a burden.

“Why are you sorry?” He asks.

“Because you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m here because I want to be.” He smiles.

“But I’m too much. This is too much. You have your own shit to deal with. I’m so fucking sorry, Sam.” You try to hold back more tears. You feel awful.

“Hey, don’t apologize. You’ve done so much for me. You promised you’d always be there for me. Let me return the favor. You’re so kind to everyone, just let me be kind to you.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper again in a broken voice.

“Why do you keep saying sorry? Are you embarrassed?” He asks. You nod.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Multiple mental hospitals, remember?” He jokes, making a face and pointing to himself. You laugh quietly.

“Just the life of a broken fucking brain.” He laughs, but there’s something sad underneath.

“You know I don’t think you’re a monster right?”

“Why are you bringing that up now?” He asks.

“Well sometimes I think you believe the doctors at the Woods a little too much. I just wanted to make sure you know that I know that you’re trying and you’re a good guy.” You smile.

“For what it’s worth I don’t think you’re a monster either. You think I’m a good guy, but I think you’re the goodest person I know.” He smiles. “Is goodest even a word?” He asks.

“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the compliment.” You smile. You don’t know when it happened, but you start to realize that Sam had successfully distracted you and calmed you from your meltdown. You find his arm around you, as you lean into him on the lounge couch.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He smiles.

“I’m so glad I met you too.”

[linatheweirdooo]

But when I try to stand, it's like Im buried in the sand

envuzi hurt/comfort fic originally posted on ao3 but my last fic on here did well so here

If you recognise the song in the title youre skibidi

Original link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59257672

~~

"Do your job, and I'll leave you and N alone"

"right, V?"

V backed into the corner, but there was nowhere to run, no place to hide. Tears stung her eyes as she watched her best friend get ripped apart by the monster wearing Tessa's skin. There was nothing she could do but watch.

She failed N. She failed N and Uzi, how could she let this happen? She sacrificed herself to protect them, but of course she was too selfish to kill herself. Of course she backed out. Now there she was, facing the consiquences.

Why did everything always end this way? Why is it that every attempt to help them end in more suffering?

How do they not hate her?

Thoughts retreated to the back of V's mind as she was forced to see it come closer and closer to her, approaching V with mutilated corpses of her friends, the ones she failed, forced to watch, paralysed in fear. She wanted to scream, cry, anything, but nothing came out. This was her life, wasn't it?

~~

V sprung up with a sharp gasp, breaking the silence that had previously enveloped the room.

Room?

V turned to her right to see Uzi, her girlfriend sleeping next to her, and N's arms wrapping around her from her left grounded V, snapping her back to reality.

It was a dream.

She could try to sleep it off. Her internal clock told her it was 2:20 AM. But she was still shaken up by the nightmare.

It was hot. Too hot. She should get something to drink.

V carefully took N's arms and put them down away from her. He was always very cuddly, and she liked it, but now was just not the time.

Uzi was a light sleeper, so V still had to take extra care in getting out of their bed without waking her up either. But eventually, she landed her cone-shaped legs onto the ground, and made her way to the kitchen to get some oil. Uzi and N had both been experimenting with human food, making versions they can eat. V always thought it was a bit useless, she knew all she needed was oil.

Pouring the contents of the bottle into a mug, V stared at her reflection through the black liquid.

How did she get this way?

It's been a few weeks since the solver was defeated, and everyone's still pretty shaken up by it. Uzi has it worst, constantly haunted by the past. Such a powerful being constricted by her own body, and they've yet to see the effects it has in the long term.

So why was V so uneasy? Her own partners can't catch a break, she shouldn't feel like this.

No, it's too late for these thoughts. She survived this long bottling everything up with only a few breakdowns, she doesn't need to stop now. She had more important things to do. There were people she needs to protect and care for now.

V downed the oil in one gulp, eager to get this over with and go back to her partners, but something stopped her at the bathroom mirror.

Something told her to stare. Stare at herself, her body. The hands that can turn into a thousand weapons. The hair she was forced to keep short in order to be successful in combat. The vial of yellow liquid, a weapon of mass destruction. It can so easily melt and tear through flesh.

The piercing yellow eyes that were forced to stare back at her. They weren't always yellow. The solver changed them. Everything she hates about herself was because of the solver.

It didn't even think of her as a person, just a vessel to carry out its deeds. She was never her own person. Who even was she?

Her eyes trailed down to her upper left arm.

The armband.

It had a skull printed on it, a constant reminder of the job she has to do. It had a barcode on it, too. But V eyed something else on it, a string of letters and numbers: her name. Her real name. Serial designation V-X00100000. Next to it, her model type.

CYN-MYKX

Cyn. The poor host of the solver, V's enslaver. The reason she's like this. It only saw her as a tool, didn't it? She wasn't a drone capable of emotion, just a weapon.

She was never her own person. She wasn't her own person as long as she has that armband.

She needs to take it off.

Hands swapped out into claws. Another reminder of what she was made for. Bladed fingers approached the yellow fabric, tugging on it. But she couldn't bring herself to rip it off.

What was the problem? She's trying to but her body just won't let her. V wants this thing off her but can't bring herself to do it.

When did these tears find their way onto her face?

Knees shaky, V fell into the floor, desperately clawing at her arms with razor sharp talons. Who cares if they got damaged, it wasn't even her body anyway. Oil dripped onto the floor as she took in a shaky breath and choked out a sob that was building inside her, but still attempting to shush herself. The last thing she wanted was to be seen like this by the most important people in her life.

~~~

Uzi was always a light sleeper. Hearing a faint, muffled sob from inside her house was enough to wake her up.

Bleary purple eyes blinked awake. It took a few seconds for Uzi to focus on the environment around her, but when she did she noticed something. V wasn't there, despite the fact she was sleeping in the middle that night. At least, that's what she thinks she remembers.

She tierdly lifted herself off the pillow she rested her head on, to check if V may be somewhere else on the bed, only to be met with the sight of a sleeping disassembly drone. But it wasn't V, it was N, her boyfriend. There was still some warmth in between them, though.

Uzi put two and two together to come to the conclusion that V got out of bed recently, for whatever reason.

This can't be good. She had to tell N of their girlfriend's disappearance. Shuffling closer to him, Uzi rested a hand on his shoulder and softly shook it in an attempt to wake him up, but quickly stopped herself.

He looked so peaceful. Only a few weeks ago she would only see this sight in her dreams. So much has happened, but he can finally rest now.

Her hand released its grip on N. She shouldn't wake him up. She can check on V herself. V was strong and brave, she probably isn't hurt and Uzi's just overthinking. It's not worth waking N up too.

With her mind made up, Uzi followed the faint sobs that woke her up in the first place, and worries clouded her head again.

It was when she saw the bathroom door cracked open that she stopped in her tracks. She heard faint sobs that were clearly not intended to be heard, and hyperventilating that got worse the closer she got to the bathroom.

"V? Is that you?" The worker quietly asked through the gap, not walking inside to give her girlfriend some space. But when the only sound that came back was a hushed sob, Uzi was left paralyzed. Whatever's happening, is she qualified to help out with it?

She shook the thoughts away. Her girlfriend was having a moment, she should at least try to help. The door slowly opened, complimented with a soft creak, and Uzi poked her head inside to a sight she wished she didn't get to witness.

~~

N didn't know what it was, but something felt off. His optics struggled to make out his surroundings at first, but he quickly realized the arm he was previously hugging wasn't there. V wasn't there.

V always shuffled around in her sleep a lot, he wasn't surprised she wriggled her arm out of his grasp somehow. But, there was also a lack of warmth on the bed too.

"Uzi? Is V-" his optics had fully adjusted to the dark when he cut himself off. Uzi wasn't there either.

Reluctantly, N got out of the bed. It was late and he was tired, but he definetly can't just fall back asleep knowing neither of them were there. What if they got hurt? They're still pretty shaken up about what happened a few weeks ago (and admittedly, he was too).

But he was more worried about V. Unlike Uzi, who has learned to open up to both her partners, V was clearly trying to hide the way she truly feels. She always hid her true emotions. N just wished she could be more open to him and Uzi, so they can help her. So she doesn't break at the seams again.

Walking down the mostly empty hallway (they had still just moved into their house, there isn't any furniture or decoration yet) N's "eyes" took note of the slightly illuminated wall. It didn't take a genius to figure out a door was open with the light on.

Upon getting closer to the source of the light, he heard quiet sobs.

Once he reached the door, N peeked inside. There was oil everywhere. On the floor, on clothes, even caked onto the faces of two drones. One purple, one yellow.

Uzi and V.

They were on the floor, V had her claws out and was evidently the source of the sobs. She was still wearing the same old jacket she's worn for ages, but evidence of all the abuse it has gone through littered the fabric in the form of rips, tears, scratches and oil stains. But some of them were new.

~~

V bit back some more sobs as she noticed her other partner has found her. N must've not realised he was staring, but to V it was just another pair of eyes watching her, judging her, degrading her for comitting the crime of existing. She wanted to disappear from the face of Copper-9. So much has gone down.

She was sitting on the floor, her knees to her chest, hyperventilating. So defenseless. So weak. No wonder the solver chose her as its victim. It promised she'll be free, but even in its death, she hasn't broken free of its shackles. When it's not controlling or manipulating V, it was watching her in her nightmares, in the empty spaces in her new house, in the mirrors she looked at herself through.

"V, please. Stop hurting yourself" spoke a voice too comforting for her to deserve it. V couldn't even register who said it.

"V?"

Her vents quieted.

"Can you look at me?"

Hesitantly, golden tear-filled eyes met purple ovals. She bit back another sob.

N sat on the floor next to Uzi, with his hand hovering over one of the wounds V's claws were still in the middle of branding her casing with.

He didn't speak, but demonstrated to V what he wanted to her do when he switched over his hands for claws, then back to normal again. He wanted her to switch them back.

V just stared into his eyes and slowly shook her head, digging her claws deeper and drawing more oil.

"V, please." Uzi made eye contact with V again, but this time V removed her claws from the oil stained plastic forearms she was digging them into, but still hovered them over her wounds.

"Can you switch your hands back to normal for me?" The worker asked oh so tenderly; absolutely not the tone V deserved to be spoken to in.

Newly built up tears made their way onto V's screen. She can't. She still hasn't been able to remove the arm band. She still hasn't punished herself enough for the things she did. She's still alive. The solver will be haunting her as long as that remains a fact.

She can't take it anymore. It's like something snapped inside her, but all the tears came back stronger. She didn't want to cry, and an effort was clearly made, but it was too much. She lodged herself inbetween N and Uzi, wrapping her arms around both of them and sobbed hopelessly into the gap between them.

V's sobs were strained, she clearly didn't want them to escape her mouth. But she just couldn't hold them back. It's like every time she blinked back tears in her life all came back to her, stronger than ever. She shook and trembled, as a seemingly endless stream of tears burned her screen.

N was taken aback by the sudden hug, but then wrapped his arms around V's frame, with Uzi following suit.

Uzi didn't care her clothes were soaking up her own girlfriend's oil. It was about time that old hoodie was put out if its misery anyway.

V's sobs eventually died down, getting replaced with awkward yet comforting silence. As she hugged her partners, clawing on the fabric of their clothes. She needs to make sure they're actually here and this wasn't another cruel trick.

Eventually, she broke the silence with two words.

"I'm sorry"

N pulled his head away from V's to look at her, but still stayed in the embrace.

"Don't apologize. But, are you able to tell us what happened?" N's voice was slightly scratchy considering he still had just woken up, but V could still hear the concern in his voice. Robo god she didn't deserve either of them.

"It's stupid" she reluctantly replied. She isnt used to being vulnerable, to saying how she felt. It was a habit she wants to break but it was so hard after years and years of bottling everything up.

"Don't say that. I don't blame you for breaking" Uzi eyed the ground, trying to find the correct words to say.

"These last few weeks have been so hard, and yet you were there for us when we needed someone to talk to"

"I think you deserve that outlet, too"

V's eyes locked with Uzi's when she said those last few words. Uzi has seen first hand the things V has done, how could she deserve it? Uzi and N are good people, she had to comfort them. She loved them. But she didn't deserve that same treatment.

"I don't think I deserve it"

"V..."

"I hurt so many people, Uzi... I hurt you and N... I don't deserve to have the two of you helping or comforting me"

Uzi frowned upon hearing V's response.

"V, N and I met by trying to kill eachother, I killed so many of my classmates at camp. OH, and let's not forget the time I tried to kill you later that day, too."

"Uzi, that's different-"

"No! Because at the end of the day, all three of us have done some messed up shit. But if N and I deserve love anyway, you do, too, V"

Silence fell over the polycule after Uzi's little speech. V tried to argue back, but couldn't find any sufficient arguments.

Uzi was right.

V let out a sigh, and breifly interlaced her fingers with both her partners'... and then found her face heating up. A beat passed before she threw a friendly punch at the purple drone.

"You dork! You don't get to make me feel sappy!" V playfully scolded her girlfriend. Uzi couldn't help but laugh at the sudden change in V's demeanor.

But as Uzi's giggles died down, the light-hearted atmosphere did, too.

"But, seriously though. You should open up a bit more. We're here to help you, we love you, why else do you think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and N?"

V's grin faded slightly as she came back to the reality that she still did scare her partners at the middle of the night.

"What happened, V?" Uzi finally asked her. Damn it. She wished she didn't have to say anything about the events that led up to her breakdown.

"If you're comfortable with talking about it, that is" N added.

V's sorrowful gaze reached her upper left arm. Specifically, the damned yellow tag that branded her.

"I want to take it off. I feel trapped as long as I have it" she finally admitted.

V's mind wandered, anticipating any response from them. "ALL of this trouble was caused by a piece of fabric?!". It was a pretty silly reason, she kind of expected them to get mad at her for it. But they didn't.

N let out a surprised "oh" as he remembered the meltdown he had when he tried to take it off.

Uzi cupped V's cheek and her thumb tenderly traced the surface of it. "Let's take it off, then" her soothing voice comforted.

N positioned himself on V's left, and with a precise slice of his claw, the yellow symbol of control fell into the floor.

V looked at her arm. Her arm, which was a part of her body, no longer belonging to anyone else.

She was free.

V hugged N, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you"

N reciprocated the action, his arms wrapped around V as her hair fully obscured his face. He then planted a gentle kiss on it as his fingers ran through her silver locks.

Eventually, they parted before V wiped a singular tear off her screen. One day, she'll tell them about the problems plaguing her. The nightmares, the thoughts, the urge. But for now, she savored the feeling of being at peace (or at least, the closest feeling to peace since what happened three weeks ago).

"I think it's time we head back to bed" V finally said. She hated to admit it, but the lack of sleep did take a toll on her.

Standing up from the floor, V stretched and picked up Uzi bridal style.

"HEY!"

"Can't let you forget how I usually act just because you saw me cry, toaster"

Uzi childishly pouted before wrapping her arms around V's neck.

"Bite me"

N held back a few giggles as he watched the most important drones in his life still bickering like they don't live in the same house together.

~~

After the three of them flopped on their bed, V felt two pairs of arms wrap around her waist and head.

"I'm NOT letting you leave this bed alone again" Uzi mumbled into her girlfriend's chest.

V could've gotten mad, but she found herself chuckling instead. Maybe this night wasn't that bad in the end.

Soft rumbles radiated from V as she purred in content in sync with the taller disassembly drone nuzzling her.

"I love you" were the last words V spoke that night. Though it was half muttered, both the drones it was directed at heard it, increasing their grip in their hugs.

Eventually, V's purring was replaced with soft snores as she drifted off the sleep, surrounded by the people she loved in a quiet moment of tranquillity.

[say-al0e]

Hope

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: From the age of ten, your heart has belonged to Aemond Targaryen. As the factions of your family wage war, each fighting for the crown, all you want is to love the man you chose. | Ft. "You think I wanted to fall in love with you, of all people?" Requested by @niamh11 Warnings: Targcest, doubt, war, death (mentioned), dragon fire, inaccurate Targaryen marriage rites, PinV, oral (f!receiving), Harrenhal, light drugging (nothing happens while drugged, just sleep; only briefly mentioned). Aemond and Reader are 20. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Targaryen Reader (Daemon's Daughter, Unspecified Mother - not Rhaenyra) Word Count: 11.5k (I don't know, I blacked out) HotD Taglist

For weeks, it felt as if every breath was filled with the scent of damp earth, the smoke of dragon fire, the copper tang of blood, or the char of wood and bone. Each was heavier than the last, harder to draw and less likely to fill your lungs, but you continued to fight to catch your breath with every moment that passed.

The stench of war, now hanging heavily over the entirety of the realm, made itself at home in the fabric of your clothes, the strands of your hair, the very pores of your skin. It haunted you in your sleep, lingered just around every corner and refused to allow you a moment of peace. Despite your reluctance to fight, to watch the realm tear itself apart, it slowly consumed every piece of your life. But the stench, while maddening, meant that you were still alive.

For now, anyway.

Once, only a few short moons ago, towns and villages near the Kingsroad found themselves on the verge of prosperity. Their proximity afforded them the coin of travelers, of weary men wandering through the realm for one reason or another and sellswords looking for work - or, more often, debauchery. None were as large as Oldtown or King’s Landing, none quite as prosperous, but it was more than could be said for other villages. There was food to eat, coin to be earned, and fun to be had; just enough for the inhabitants to consider themselves lucky.

Unfortunately, their luck only extended so far.

The all-consuming threat of dragon fire often loomed over the realm. There were many who were raised to fear the ancient beasts - and rightfully so, for their not so distant ancestors perished in flames - but, for many, the threat seemed far off.

Until smoke filled the skies and the threat that once seemed so distant now swallowed them whole.

Blackened land surrounded you at every turn. Fields, once filled with crops, reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash; pastures, once teeming with livestock, a final resting place for cleaned bones; ponds, once a source of water for the bustling village, still bubbling as it boiled. Once great buildings were nothing more than rubble, mere pieces of stone marking where they once stood, and the streets were littered with bodies still smoking.

Though the sight was growing familiar, you could still feel the bile raise in the back of your throat as you stepped across cobblestone paths in search of any survivors. The beat of your heart echoed in your ears, hammering so hard inside your chest you worried it might crack a rib, and you struggled to even your breathing as you gripped your sword.

There was no need to guess who had lain waste to the lands, no need to question those who managed to flee, those who would spend the rest of their lives searching the skies in fear. It was obvious whose work this was and your father had little problem reminding you.

“I suppose your beloved did not deem this attack worth discussion upon your last meeting,” he sneered, toeing at a large piece of melted metal. “Tell me, what is it you see in him; his devotion to senseless violence or his shameless predilection for leaving nothing but death and destruction in his wake? Your devotion to him is… baffling."

For a moment, it felt as if your heart stopped. While he had not spoken of him as anything other than a nuisance, a proverbial thorn in his side, since his refusal to allow you to marry, it was of little surprise to you that your father knew your heart still belonged to him. Most turned blind eyes - some willingly, with no desire to speak aloud your transgression; others simply allowed you to go unnoticed, expecting this behavior from the eldest child of the Rogue Prince - but you should have known there was nothing you could hide from him.

“I have loved him since we were children,” you reminded him, needlessly. “I cannot simply stop. As for what I see in him, I would say that I saw you, father,” you began, voice thick with emotion, “but something like this would require you to sully your own hands.” Despite the knot in your throat and the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, you carried on, hoping he couldn’t hear the shake of your voice. “Aemond’s crimes are his own. Yours are carried out by men who have the misfortune of trusting you.”

Daemon Targaryen had always been noted for his prowess in battle, his cunning, his silver tongue, his enjoyment of Flea Bottom. Rarely was he noted for his even temper or his devotion as a father. He loved you, and your siblings - of this you were almost certain - but you considered it evident when he chose to reach for you, hand clasped in a viselike grip on your throat, rather than his sword the moment the words left your lips.

“Mind your tongue,” he ordered, voice a low rasp as his violet eyes narrowed. “This,” he hissed, gesturing to the carnage you stood amidst, “is the work of a weak, pathetic little boy throwing a fucking tantrum. He wants war, he wants blood, he wants the crown; he knows nothing of the reality. He has chosen to burn his own kingdom for a chance to play king now that his drunken, usurper cunt of a brother has disappeared and were it not for Rhaenyra, for you, I would let him.” Daemon paused, his grip tightening on your throat - earning a sharp gasp, a desperate scrabble of your fingers, nails digging into his forearm - as his gaze burned into yours. “I once saw myself in Aemond,” he confessed, voice softening, “though there is one grand distinction. I would sacrifice the world for Rhaenyra, for our children, for you. Aemond will sacrifice you the moment you no longer serve his purpose."

A single glance around the village, around the dozen other villages you’d flown through on your patrols - on your search for Aemond, for Vhagar, for any sign of an impending Green attack - confirmed that your father spoke the truth. The Aemond you loved was long gone, replaced by a man desperately clawing for the power that now seemed well within his grasp, but you were your father’s daughter.

Dragon rider since ten, skilled with a sword, intelligent, comely gifted with a mind for strategy - it was oft whispered that you were a mirror of Daemon Targaryen. The best, and some of the worst, parts of your father were passed directly to you. And, unfortunately, that included his predilection to stubbornly listen to the thrum of your heart rather than reason.

“You act as if you have the right to shame anyone, as if you have not sacrificed many and more in the name of getting what you want,” you reminded him, nails sinking into his skin and drawing blood. The rasp of your voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it carried through the hauntingly empty ruins as you searched his face for any hint of understanding. When you found none, you pleaded, “What would you have me do, father? Tell me, please.”

“Return to Harrenhal,” he commanded, releasing his grip on your throat, gaze never once leaving yours. “I will join you on the morrow.” For a moment, you stood toe to toe - jaw working as you contemplated speaking, wondering if you could push words past the sudden dryness of your mouth - before Daemon turned. “That is a command. Go.”

Without sparing you a second glance, Daemon stalked across the field to mount Caraxes before beginning his ascent.

Rather than immediately following the harsh command, one he would almost certainly apologize for in his own way - with an embrace, most likely, or a tale of his youth - you allowed yourself a moment. With little regard for your armor, for your sword, you sank to your knees and pressed your palms into the scorched earth and reflected on how exactly you found yourself with an aching heart.

For much of your life, your heart beat for Aemond Targaryen.

As the eldest daughter of the Rogue Prince, Lords and knights from all parts of the realm - princes from Dorne and the Free Cities - all vied for your hand, once upon a time. With every tourney or feast you attended, you were inundated with glances and introductions. Each conversation included boasts of riches and land, of family titles and pedigrees. Daemon found it intoxicating, waiting for the perfect proposal to be made, while it all mattered none to you.

The idea of marriage was one you disliked, but one you knew would become reality sooner rather than later. As a Targaryen, there were but two possibilities: your marriage would serve as a political alliance, your husband chosen for the connections he could bring the crown, the resources his house could provide; or you would marry another Targaryen, a member of your own house who could ensure your name and bloodline carried on.

Neither was appealing but a political marriage always seemed the most likely option as you viewed it as the only way your father could win favor with his brother. It was an eventuality you were prepared for as your brothers were young, and betrothed, while you knew little and less of your cousins.

Visits to the Red Keep were few and far between, only possible when your father and uncle found themselves in good spirits - or at such odds that a conversation was necessary - and even less frequent upon your father’s marriage to Rhaenyra. Alicent Hightower’s children mattered little to you at first, their existence often forgotten as you followed your father from this exile to that, but everything changed the moment Aemond claimed Vhagar.

Funerals - too many of which you’d witnessed in such a short existence - never sat well with you. They served as a reminder that while House Targaryen sat high atop the Iron Throne and soared through the skies on the backs of ancient beasts, none could escape the Stranger’s eventual embrace.

Mortality felt too heavy a thought for one so young but it was the ever present reality.

On a day that felt so heavy, so sobering, you were surprised to find any joy at all. There was so much anger, so much tension, so much sadness, that you wondered how anyone would carry on at all. But somewhere, amidst the depths of despair, you stood in awe of the timid boy who once had trouble looking you in the eye as he mounted the oldest and fiercest dragon you knew.

Aemond’s joy was almost palpable that night. His relief at having claimed a dragon - the dragon - set you at ease, thrilled you almost more than claiming your own dragon, and you watched happily as he circled Driftmark. Vhagar carried him around the island and their cries, his of triumph, carried on the wind. It filled your chest with a warmth you’d never known, a joy that felt almost suffocating. The sight of him, fearless and finally free of the cruel teasing of his brother and yours, endeared him to you in a way you never bothered to examine.

Upon his return, a split second after his feet hit the sand and your eyes met, you pulled him into your arms. With one embrace, you saw a future, a life of love - of joy, of dragon rides and quiet evenings - and you hoped he might feel the same.

It was fitting, you supposed, for the love story you always wished for to be marked by fire and blood.

The first and only time you hoped that you might marry for love while fulfilling your duty to your house ended in bloodshed. Though you were both but ten years old, you learned an important lesson; hope is not meant for a Targaryen.

Driftmark, in hindsight, began it all - the start of your love story, the seeds of ruin that would someday fell it - but you were nothing, if not stubborn. 

Despite the events of that night, despite your father marrying Rhaenyra and the boys becoming your brothers, Aemond knew you shouldered no blame. Though he wanted an apology, an acknowledgement of wrongdoing, he was satisfied; an eye for Vhagar, of all dragons, was a worthwhile price to pay, that much he confided in the first of many letters you shared.

The letters were flowed easily and, though most contained trivial thoughts that mattered little to anyone but the pair of you, they meant the world to you. For the first time in a long time, you felt content - happy, even. 

As you grew older, you understood little and less of the rift between your family. Your relationship with Aemond was easy, almost effortless, but everything else seemed so needlessly complicated. There were apologies owed and egos too fragile to repent for past sins; a simple problem with an even simpler solution. However, it seemed as if all were too self-involved to see the simplicity.

Viserys, with his ailing health and reputation as peacetime king, wanted nothing more than for peace amongst his own family.

For all the harsh words and bitter distance, for all the sleepless nights and long fights, for all the accusations and moments of mistrust, Viserys and Daemon truly loved one another. There was nothing, in the end, that could destroy their relationship.

That was why, you supposed, when Viserys suggested it and you insisted, Daemon agreed to send you to ward in King’s Landing.

The gesture was one, both you and Viserys insisted, meant to unite your families. Your willingness to step into a proverbial viper’s den, however, did little to ease the tension that grew so thick you feared it may someday choke you.

In hindsight, you knew the damage was already done. The groundwork for the coming war, the brewing discontent and deep mistrust, was laid long before you entered the picture. Perhaps it was naivety, or a brotherly desire to make up for past mistakes, that lead Viserys to believe the decision would invoke fondness between the halves of your families - or perhaps less bloodshed when the reckoning finally arrived - but a Dreamer he was not.

Most believed disaster loomed over the Red Keep but none could have predicted just how horrifying it would be.

Upon your arrival to the Red Keep, you were reminded of how long it had been since you wandered its halls. Little of your childhood was spent there, visits grew fewer and farther between, but very little remained of image your mind conjured. There was no warmth, no cheer, no comfort. Though autumn had scarcely begun, the bitter cold of winter already enveloped the Keep and its inhabitants.

Viserys himself hailed your arrival as a cause for celebration. Helaena, too, found joy in your presence as you served as her closest friend and confidante. Aegon, now eight-and-ten, all but ignored your presence, as did his mother. And the one you missed the most seemed most outwardly indifferent to your presence.

Aemond spoke less than he did as a child, his words carefully measured, though his confidence had grown with him. He carried himself in a manner befitting a prince, with set shoulders and a keen violet eye scanning his surroundings at every turn. And while his brother spent his days deep in his cups or between the thighs of paid women, Aemond’s days were spent honing his abilities. He trained with Cole in the yard, studied with the maesters in the library, and listened intently to every conversation he could catch regarding matters of the realm.

Though you spoke often through raven, the comfort did not quickly or easily extend to face-to-face interactions.

Despite the initial tension that arrived with you from Dragonstone, Aemond graced you with his presence more often than not. He sat with you in the library, body occupying the seat beside yours despite a handful of empty chairs scattered about the room, and went flying with you as often as you wished. At mealtimes, he sat at your side - his violet eye trained on you, observing but rarely speaking more than a handful of words - and walked the gardens with you after breaking your fast.

There were moments of bitterness, bouts of anger where your tempers flared - particularly in the beginning, and often because of one sibling or another - and more moments spent hurling cruel words at one another.

But with every moon that passed, you settled into a life far different than any you could’ve imagined. And with every moment spent by Aemond’s side, you knew it was love - real and true - you’d found all those years ago. Love lightened your spirit, brought you a warmth and a comfort you never knew existed, and joy found you despite the chill of the Red Keep. Aemond was the one you wanted and, delighted, you learned he felt the same.

Yet, neither of you forgot that hope was more dangerous a beast than any dragon.

Hope abandoned you both as you sought permission to marry. Though Viserys was overjoyed, thrilled by the prospect of uniting the family through the joining of your hands, there were few others who shared his enthusiasm. The factions of your family agreed on little as of late but Alicent and Daemon found themselves in agreement at long last; both would sooner see their children miserable, alone or trapped in loveless marriages, than allow them to marry.

It seemed as if everyone, save Viserys, shared the sentiment. And, as you gathered for what would - unbeknownst to you all - become the last supper, none were shy about sharing it.

Piece by piece, the future you foolishly allowed yourself to imagine shattered into shards that pierced your heart deeper and deeper. With every argument against your betrothal, with every sharp word uttered and eventual punch thrown, you felt the fate you desperately hoped to avoid closing in on you. And as your family disappeared from the Red Keep, eager to return to Dragonstone - with a parting command that you begin preparing to join them - you took to the skies to ruminate.

Naively, perhaps, you imagined you could have won them over.

There were a thousand arguments to be made in support of your marriage to Aemond, the least of which was the love you shared. Though Daemon mistrusted his nephew, he would’ve seen reason - someday, perhaps - that Aemond loved you, that he would never cause you harm. Though your brothers disliked Aemond, the result of childhood animosity fed to you all by adults, you could have shown them how happy Aemond made you. And though Rhaenyra found herself wary, she knew your marriage would provide stability and comfort to Alicent upon her ascension.

If only Viserys had lived just a while longer.

Viserys’ death had long been a matter of when. In the immediate aftermath, you found yourself wondering how things might have changed had Rhaenyra remained at the Keep - if he’d died sooner rather than later, if she’d been the one to share his final moments. But there was little time to dwell when you suddenly found yourself considered an enemy to the crown.

One moment, you were lingering in the Dragonpit - Aemond’s hand on your cheek, his forehead pressed to yours as he assured you there was nothing that could keep you apart - and the next, members of the Kingsguard were dragging you through the Keep to lock you in your room.

For several long hours, there was no explanation. Aemond was kept from you, sent from the Keep in search of his brother, and you were kept under strict guard. Despite the silence, you knew with great certainty that Viserys was dead and your stomach churned with fear of what was to come. And despite yourself, you held desperately to the hope that the great houses would remember their oaths to uphold Rhaenyra as the rightful heir.

Abandon all hope, should you wish to survive.

None knew what Otto Hightower intended to do with you - for it was, most certainly, he who masterminded Aegon’s ascension and he who planted the seeds of mistrust in you as a suitable match for his grandson - but you considered yourself blessed to escape that fate, nonetheless.

A knight of the Kingsguard facilitated your escape, granted you and Rhaenys the freedom necessary to flee King’s Landing. Rhaenys herself facilitated the liberation of your dragons, neither of whom you intended to leave without. And in the blink of an eye, every aspect of your life changed. War was nigh, closer than ever before, and though you escaped the Red Keep, hope held you prisoner.

For a blissful moment, little of your relationship with Aemond changed.

There were ravens - messages written in High Valyrian, now of greater significance than ever before - and meetings arranged in secluded woods. There were longing glances exchanged, fleeting touches and soft kisses, embraces you once refused out of some sense of propriety. Words of love were whispered and promises, bound to be broken, were made. There was even a dream, only spoken under cover of darkness, of finding a septon to marry you in a desperate bid to end the war before it began in earnest. But the storm itself had only just begun.

The question was never when, nor if, blood would be drawn; it was always who would draw it. Most feared it would be Daemon, or perhaps Aegon - both quick to anger, to act, desperate to prove themselves. But it was of little surprise to anyone, save you, that it was Aemond who began the Dance.

Whispers filled the land and the halls of Dragonstone echoed with the title that chipped at the already shattered pieces of your heart; Aemond One-Eye became Aemond the Kinslayer. 

Most believed it was a deliberate act, retribution for the eye Lucerys stole as a boy. Others, an act of provocation to draw Rhaenyra out of hiding. Regardless of motive, nearly all found themselves in agreement that Aemond committed the most grievous sin. Though it was a compelling argument, one you found yourself struggling to deny when Jacaerys confronted you, you hoped it was not true.

Aemond longed for an apology, an acknowledgement that he was wronged. That much you knew to be true. But he was not a murderer, not one to cut down a child in cold blood.

Three long months of piecemeal battles followed Lucerys death - Visenya’s death - and, despite the damage done and the fear beginning to grip the realm, there was little to be done to keep you away from Aemond. You continuously found one another, seeking solace where you knew it was guaranteed, and he swore Lucerys’ death was a tragic mistake. He apologized, sincerely, and you believed him.

Love, perhaps, was more dangerous than hope for it could make even the sharpest eye blind.

As you glanced around the village, reduced to nothing - to ash, to rubble, to ruin - you wondered if it was love that blinded you involuntarily or a choice made to protect what remained of your fragile heart.

Every sign that Aemond had changed, that he was no longer the boy you fell in love with but a man grown into a stranger, was there. And as you stood, limbs trembling as you realized an inn had become a graveyard, you wondered if he’d ever been the man you believed him to be.

Perhaps it was hope, a desperate desire for a fairytale you long ago accepted you would never have, or perhaps it was naivety that blinded you. While others saw a waking nightmare, a terror to behold, you saw a man in desperate need of comfort. While others saw a threat, you saw a man who needed a gentle hand to guide him to the light. While others saw a raging storm, threatening to spring forth and destroy everything in its path, you found yourself trapped directly in the ruinous calm of the eye.

Aemond was, you truly believed, good. Somewhere beneath the facade he wore, the bravado that kept his shoulders straight and his lips narrowed into a thin line, was a delicate countenance you’d witnessed. But as you gathered yourself, scrubbed at your cheeks with the hem of your sleeve and swiped ash from your gloved hands on the fabric of your coat, you wondered just how deeply it was buried.

Village after village had been burned, thousands of innocents killed in cold blood, and to what end? There was no question who torched the villages, not pretending the offense was committed at Rhaenyra’s command.

All knew it was Aemond Targaryen, the One-Eyed Prince - Kinslayer, attempted Kingslayer - who singlehandedly destroyed them all.

Death and destruction marked his path, nothing left for you to find other than rubble and ash. It made you sick, turned your stomach and left an acidic burn in the back of your throat, but you couldn’t help wondering why.

As you mounted your dragon to return to Harrenhal, body present but mind far away, little made sense to you. Aegon was gone, still missing after weeks of searching; Alicent and Otto, for all their determination, would never see the realm reduced to ash; and Criston Cole would rather fight, march on with a host of men and a strategy rather than torch villages with little rhyme or reason. There was no plausible explanation for the campaign, no reasonable excuse for the destruction you found awaiting you at every turn.

All that remained was the truth; each and every village burned was a choice Aemond made.

The realization that every heinous act you’d stumbled across in your search for Aemond and Vhagar - for Aegon, for Criston Cole, for a Green army you began to imagine would never materialize - was his froze the very blood in your veins. It made each beat of your heart more painful than the last, each a little too fast and hard enough you feared your ribs might crack, and you fought bitter tears as you flew toward Harrenhal.

Only weeks ago, Aemond pleaded with you. He urged you to abandon your family and give yourself to him - your hand, your body, your dragon - and join his cause, not his brother’s. It was heartfelt, soft, emotional, convincing. He promised that you would rule as his queen, that your family would be forgiven and peace would return to the realm, if you would simply give in to him. And for a long moment, you considered his plea. So strongly did you consider accepting, you gathered your things and crossed through the dilapidated corridors of Harrenhal with every intention of taking flight and joining him.

In fact, you made it to the gate before the little voice in your head gave you pause.

Alys found you in the courtyard, bag tossed to the ground and shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, sat before the Weirwood tree. With a few soft words, she reminded you of your place - of your family, of your fight - and lead you to bed before Daemon could find you.

Briefly, as you soared through the cool, late afternoon air, you wondered if the destruction was your fault. Perhaps your rejection ignited the flame of his temper and sent him on a rampage. But you believed you knew him too well to entertain that train of thought for longer than a moment. Aemond had proven himself to be volatile, dangerous, but there had to be a reason for the destruction he rained.

Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with you and much and more to do with his own campaign for the crown - a campaign none knew existed until the power he so desired fell straight into his hands.

There was little time to dwell on Aemond’s aspirations, however, as the great ruins of Harrenhal entered your sight.

Resting in a field, not far from the charred remnants of the castle, was Vhagar. She slept, unbothered, by the beating wings of your own dragon - a scent she recognized, a scent she knew offered no threat - and you felt your pulse jump as you grounded your own dragon just outside the walls of the once great castle.

Where Vhagar went, Aemond went - a fact all knew. And what Aemond wanted, he got. It was only a matter of time before he came for you, you realized, just as you realized the choice to join him was little more than an illusion. The decision to be his was made long ago, by a lovestruck fool who believed in hope and happy endings. The consequences would be felt by a woman whose sight had been restored.

There was no use in attempting to flee. He’d seen you arrive and would doubtlessly follow, so you steeled yourself and made the short trek to the ruins of the castle courtyard.

With your blade drawn and your ears ringing, heart hammering so loud you feared he might hear over the wind howling around you, you stepped through the gate. Despite the persistent chill in the air, the bile rising in the back of your throat, you felt impossibly warm - burning from within, fear lapping at your skin like the hottest flames of dragon fire.

Aemond didn’t bother turning from the Weirwood, hands remaining folded behind his back as dead earth crunched beneath your boots. “I wondered if Daemon would dare face me himself,” he began, voice soft and carrying on the cold wind, “of if he would be craven and allow his beloved daughter to return to me.”

It was apparent he thought you knew - that Daemon knew - he’d arrived at Harrenhal. And you had no intention of correcting him as you tightened your grip on your sword. Instead, you laughed;  a brittle, hollow sound you knew he would see through.

“My father is not afraid of you.” Every step you took, sword clasped in your hands - clutched like a lifeline, as if you had any chance against him in battle - the harder it became to catch your breath. “He does not consider you at all. You are nothing more than a pest to be swatted in his eyes; that is why I am here.” A lie, something you both knew, as Daemon understood exactly who his nephew had become, what kind of man he’d grown to be.

The understanding was one he attempted to share with you, one he begged you to see, but the three of you shared a common weakness; love.

Daemon, for all his gestures and his promises, would never love anyone more than himself as only he could protect his own heart. You would never love anyone more than Aemond, despite his flaws and his mistakes, as he’d captured your heart and refused to set it free. And Aemond? He would never love anyone more than he loved the image of himself wearing a crown.

Seated amidst the ruins of a small village, lingering with the ghosts of lives lost in an awful game, you found that understanding for yourself. Though Aemond professed his love for you - and felt it, of that you were certain, even if it was not the love you dreamt of, not the love you wanted - you knew that a piece of him saw you as a little more than a pawn. The war that raged around you was bigger than you, both pawns to be knocked around a board at the mercy of the gods, but he still fancied himself a player rather than a piece.

Love clouded your judgement, cast a rosy hue over the deep gray of your world, and you almost hated to see it go.

Without it, you saw the blackened hull of Harrenhal and the jaded, empty husk of a man Aemond had become.  The man you loved was gone, the heart that beat in time with yours was no more. Instead, stood before you was a man who sent a thrill of fear shooting down the base of your spine.

If Daemon had known the fate that awaited you at Harrenhal, he would’ve sent you to Dragonstone, to the Keep, to the Reach, the Vale, the North - somewhere, anywhere other than into the hands of the man who would destroy you.

Daemon hadn’t known and neither had you. But if you had, you knew you still would’ve flown straight into his trap.

Silence, thick and tense with an energy you’d never before felt, enveloped you both, broken only by the call of your dragon - cries that sank into your heart like knives, plunging deeper and deeper with every beat - before, at long last, Aemond turned to face you.

That searching violet eye fell to your sword, amusement clear in the raise of his brow and the way his mouth twisted into something resembling a smirk. “Look at you,” he declared, gaze sweeping across your armor of red and black. “My beautiful Fierce Princess.” He took a single step forward, huffing a breath that could pass for laughter when you rocked back onto your heel, and hummed. “I always knew that you would be mine."

“I belong to no man.” The declaration escaped as little more than a whisper, leagues away from the confidence you hoped to project, but there was little use in denying him.

Aemond was the one person who knew each and every inch of you. Every detail - no matter how small - had been committed to memory somewhere in the years you’d loved one another. Though you had not yet given yourself to him, he was more familiar with your skin, your mind, your heart than any other could ever hope to be. If anyone were to see through a false act of bravado, it would be him.

“Mm.” He held his laughter, an act to spare your feelings, though his violet eye shimmered with a mirth that seemed rare these days - a mirth you once considered yourself lucky to witness - as he stepped closer.  “Sheath your blade,” he commanded, voice soft but firm as he easily brushed past you. “I would not harm you, my love.”

Disregarding the command, you kept your sword in hand as you followed him through the dark, damp corridors. There was little light and less company, something you had yet to grow used to.

Though you knew you would find nothing before you began to search, you could not stop yourself from glancing around. Desperately, you hoped for a glimpse of a familiar face - Simon, his men, Alys - but the pit in your stomach only sank deeper as you entered the empty shell of the dining room.

“If you are searching for the witch, she’s gone. Ser Strong, as well. They all seemed… content to die,” he reveled, tone almost pitying as he reached for the carafe on the table. “Has my uncle treated them so poorly?”

“They’re dead,” you repeated, whisper echoing through the empty halls as he began to fill two glasses.

“Mm. Regretful business,” he sighed, turning to offer you a glass - one you took without thought, the action so natural you might’ve forgotten the setting had it not felt so stifling even amidst the cool breeze floating through the halls. “It is a shame they had to die,” he lamented, lips twisting into a rueful pout, “but between this… dwelling and what is to come, I consider it a merciful alternative.”

“What’s to come?” The question escaped before you could stop it, before you could convince yourself to swing - to end the battle before it began - but Aemond was unsurprised.

“Harrenhal can hold a great host. Whoever controls that host, controls the realm,” he reminded you, pausing only to sip his wine. “My brother was weak,” he continued, a soft hum of disappointment punctuating his words. “He was impulsive and undisciplined, unsuited for the crown. He would not have lasted as king. Perhaps dragon fire was a blessing, a suitable end to his reign.”

“Aemond…” For just a moment, you caught a glimpse of the man you loved as you faltered - as your feet carried you closer, as you sheathed your sword and reached for his cheek. “The villages,” you whispered, “the small folk, Simon, Alys; why?”

Aemond leaned into your touch, warmth of his cheek bleeding into your palm as your thumb brushed the ride of his scar. His violet eye fluttered shut, just for a moment, before he sighed. “I intended only to occupy Daemon, to keep him far from Rhaenyra as she attempted to take the Keep. He has long wanted battle; I chose to give it to him. He now has a cause worth fighting for.”

With a hand on your waist, fingers pressing into the heavy material of your coat, Aemond drew to his full height. “Why go to these lengths for the crown?” A large hand lifted to your cup, nudged it to your mouth, and you took a sip without thought before lamenting, “You could have done much and more without it.”

“You know nothing of being denied,” he whispered, voice as soft as it was cutting. “You have been given everything you could have ever wanted. Princes fought for your hand, lords tripped over themselves to wed you; the word ‘no’ means little and less to you.” He urged you to take another sip of your wine, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue as he tipped his head to meet your eyes. “I suppose I am also to blame as I have never refused you anything, nor will I ever. But the crown has always been meant for me, just as you have."

Another insistent press of his fingers saw you drain your cup, casting it aside the moment the liquid disappeared, and you flinched as it clattered to the ground. “You’re wrong,” you whispered, swallowing a gasp as his thumb brushed a drop of wine from your bottom lip. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted, really and truly, I was denied. I’ve only ever asked for your hand, for your love, for you. But I did not set fire to the realm, to the innocents whose paths the gods deemed unfortunate enough to set in my way. I did not betray my brother, my father, my queen. I tried reason, again and again, and held steadfast to hope that our families might see what we have always known.”

“And what did hope earn you, my love? Your father’s ire, your siblings disappointment, your realm’s division. Hope is for the foolish. You must take what you want and offer no apology,” he insisted, forehead dipping to press to yours. His hair, a cascade of white, curtained you - hid the blurring reality that surrounded you from view - as his nose brushed yours. “Everything I have done, it has been for us.”

The words, a soft declaration that should have filled your frozen limbs with an overwhelming warmth, made little sense as your thoughts began to muddle together. The ground beneath your feet trembled, your limbs suddenly felt boneless, and your tongue began to feel too large for your mouth.

Focus grew more and more difficult, a monumental feat with every breath you inhaled through wind-chapped lips, as you attempted to blink away the haze beginning to cloud your vision.

“I wanted love,” you whispered, voice distorted in your own ears. “But do you think I wanted to fall in love with you, of all people? Hope has earned me nothing, yet I continue to cling to it and hope that the boy I fell in love with will someday return to me.”

“I have never left,” Aemond assured you, though his voice sounded far away. “And I never will. We shall spend the rest of our lives together.”

As the world began to crumble around you, as your vision blurred and your ears rang, as your heart slowed and your breathing grew labored, your legs gave out. Despite Aemond’s grip, your body connected with the floor - your knees pressed hard against the broken concrete, your cheek caught the blunt edge of the table - and in an instant, everything ceased to exist.

For a blissful few moments, there was nothing.

There was no war, no death, no fire or blood or ash. There was no king, no crown, no throne. In the softness of your dreams, in the depths of your mind, there was little more than love. Aemond’s touch against your skin was soft, eager, as he committed your body to memory. His gaze was loving, reverent. The vision was dark but you felt it all so immensely.

When you awoke, you realized that it was no dream at all. Aemond sat at the side of your bed, one calloused hand stroking your skin - fingers careful as they avoided the tender skin of your cheek, the dried blood at your temple, the bruise you knew was beginning to form. “Rest well, my love?”

The dark of the room made it difficult to see and the fog still clouding your mind held tight. Your tongue still felt too large for your mouth, too dry, but you persisted. Hoarsely, you whispered, “This was a trap.”

Aemond shifted, his weight dipping the bed but leaving you undisturbed as he brushed hair from your forehead. He was clad in a shirt and pants - missing his sword, his coat, his eyepatch - and his hair fell across his shoulders. He was beautiful, as ethereal as you’d ever seen him, but the warmth you once felt was now replaced with a feeling of dread as he hummed. “It was,” he admitted, no longer bothering to pretend as his thumb swiped at your bottom lip.

“You… you poisoned me.” There was no venom in your accusation, only confusion as your mind struggled to catch up to the moment at hand. “The wine…”

“I did.” Another easy admission of guilt, this one accompanied by a flicker of his eye to meet yours. “I needed to make arrangements,” he reasoned. “I thought it kinder than locking you in a cell.”

There was no emotion in his eye, no inflection in his tone. He simply stated a fact, but you felt your heart begin to race once more as you struggled to sit upright. “I thought you loved me,” you continued, body aching as you moved.

“I do, more than you shall ever know.” Despite everything, despite yourself, you truly believed him. Of every answer he could have given you, of every explanation - every sharp glance or sharper word - you felt inclined to believe that whatever he’d done could be traced to his love for you. It was untraditional, but as someone who had never felt love, perhaps he did not know better.

Still, you asked, “Then why?”

“Because you are mine.” The answer was simple, easy. It was the same answer he had repeated a dozen times over. 

When asked why he agreed to duel a Dornish prince who wanted your hand? You were his, not a prize to be won. When asked why he apologized to his cousins for his ‘Strong’ remarks? You were his; your family was important to you, therefore, they were important to him. When asked why he refused to offer his hand to a Baratheon, despite the crown’s need for their alliance? You were his and he was yours; his hand was already bound.

“Come,” he urged, standing from your bed and offering you a hand.

Slowly, you stood - your limbs weak and your head throbbing, mouth dry and stomach churning - as he reached to steady you. “Where are we going?”

“It is past time we were wed,” he declared, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you upright.

With muddled thoughts and an overwhelming bout of nausea, you inhaled sharply. “There is no septon,” you reminded him, blinking hard against the sudden warm glow of a torch as you stepped into the hallway. “No one to perform a ceremony.”

“We shall marry as our ancestors did,” he reasoned, waving away the notion as he guided you with ease. “They had no need of a septon; the Old Gods witnessed their union as they shall ours.”

“My father,” you began, blinking desperately to clear the haze from your eyes, “my family.”

“In a period of war, tradition means little,” he reasoned, voice low in the silence of the ruins. “There will be another ceremony later, in view of the entire realm, if you wish. For now, we will join hands and take our place as the rightful king and queen.”

“Aemond…”

The pleading edge to your tone, the shake of your voice, was enough to finally give Aemond pause.

A large hand lifted, cradled your jaw and tipped your head. You met his violet eye with your own and searched for answers to the thousands of questions that rushed at you from every angle. Though you’d longed for nothing more than to marry him, to become one, you now wondered if you had any choice at all. Would he allow you to refuse, to escape Harrenhal and return to your family? If you gave him your hand, would he truly spare your father, your siblings, Rhaenyra? If you ran, would he allow you to survive?

Aemond posed a question before you could. “Have you changed your mind, my love? Do you no longer wish to be my wife?” There was little indication how he meant the question - little indication of his true feelings; whether he was angry or heartbroken at the thought - and you found yourself uncertain which would be worse.

But for a long moment, you considered his question. 

The man stood before you was no longer one you recognized, not fully. There was a darkness now ever present, clinging to him in a way it never had before. There was no longer a levity to him, no longer a spark of joy. But for as long as you could remember, Aemond was all you’d ever wanted. And, when you truly stopped to consider, the pieces you missed the most were pieces only you had ever seen.

Vulnerability was given only under cover of darkness, whispered in the depths of the Dragonpit or hidden deep in the godswood. Joy was only shown in fleeting flashes, with red cheeks and swollen lips in stolen moments you dared spend wrapped together. Love was shown in flashes of protection, in moments of compassion. Honesty was only ever granted to you, answers given freely to all questions asked where others received scathing looks and half-truths. 

Perhaps your Aemond was just that; yours and yours alone, unsuited for the eyes of outsiders.

Thoughts rushed at you, moving simultaneously too quickly and syrup slow. Everything muddled in the depths of your mind, a confusing mass of emotion and rationality - heart versus head. For the first time, Aemond truly terrified you, though there was a certainty in the back of your mind that there was no safer place for you in the realm than by his side.

Despite the fear that left your hands trembling, you swallowed your doubt. “I have only ever wanted you,” you whispered, not bothering to hide your tears. “I am yours.”

“As I am yours,” he reiterated, dipping his head to press his forehead to yours.

As water dripped around you, as rain fell over the ruins of Harrenhal, you stood in the corridor together. Uncertainty lingered in the pit of your stomach, the question of how you found yourself here plagued you, but the warmth of Aemond’s body pressed to yours did much and more to settle the wild beat of your heart.

Hope, as dangerous as it was, again found you in the ruins as you resumed your journey to the Weirwood tree.

In the courtyard, beneath the bright, full moon and freezing rain, Aemond slipped the Conqueror’s dagger from its sheath. With a steady hand, he nicked your bottom lip and your palm before carefully gathering a bead of blood on his thumb. He then offered the blade to you and though your own hand shook, you reciprocated without sparing it a second thought.

Aemond clasped your hand in his own, your palm stinging, before he leaned in to press his lips to yours. The dagger, forgotten, clattered to the ground as you pressed impossibly closer.

Weeks apart, separated by death and destruction; confusion, desperation, desire, all clouding your ability to think rationally; overwhelming, all-consuming love - the perfect storm of circumstances saw you desperate to give yourself over the flames that certainly awaited you.

There was no longer any way out, no longer any escape. Aemond was your destiny, your lives bound together years ago. The tinge of fear that pricked at your skin each time you imagined the future - each time you questioned whether you had one, whether anyone would - remained, but your fate was sealed. Rather than fight it, rather than run, you gave in.

The moment you parted, crimson staining your lips and chin, Aemond sighed. “Ābrazyrys,” he whispered, violet eye blinking against the harsh rain.

“Valzȳrys,” you replied, grateful the rain masked your tears as Aemond smiled.

“We are one,” he declared, “united as we’ve always wished.” Your hand remained clasped in his, combined blood dripping into the scorched earth as he squeezed gently. “Nothing can part us.”

“Only the gods,” you whispered, though you remained fearful that speaking it aloud might make it so.

As he always had, Aemond dared scoff at the idea. “Even the gods could not part us,” he promised, silver hair clinging to his skin as he leaned closer.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the courtyard - the ghostly ruins of the castle torched by your ancestors, the halls Daemon had begun rebuilding - but your gaze remained fixed on Aemond. Rain drenched you both, chilled you to the bone, but neither of your cared as he began to guide you back to the castle.

There was little inside that remained dry, even less that offered some semblance of comfort, but that was of little consequence to either of you as Aemond closed the door to your room. Every emotion you felt, every ounce of fear and shame and desire and desperation, gnawed at the fraying edges of your nerves and there was nothing that could be done to alleviate your suffering. The choice was made, a pact sealed in blood, and it was clear Aemond intended to further lay his claim to you - as if he did not already own you, body and heart alike.

“I had hoped it would not rain,” he sighed, taking great care to remove your coat, “but this damn place has never been dry, it seems.”

“A curse,” you whispered, reaching on instinct to untie his breeches. “Punishment from the gods.”

“There is no such thing,” he asserted, hand tipping your chin to meet your gaze. “We are Targaryens,” he declared, “we are the gods.”

Dread settled deep in the pit of your stomach, then - a feeling so strong, you feared you might lose the little nerve that remained. Aemond was beyond reasoning, beyond rationality, and you knew there was nothing you could say to remind him of his own mortality, of yours. So, instead, you pulled him into a kiss.

The future grew dimmer, less and less likely to belong to you with every moment that passed, so you resigned yourself to enjoy the moment at hand. It was one you’d dreamt of, one you’d longed for with each rendezvous you shared, and Aemond seemed as eager as you. Now married, he had no qualms about touching you - calloused fingers skating across your damp skin, brushing across your shoulders, knocking the straps of your gown out of his path.

Aemond’s breath fanned across your cheek, a source of warmth in the chill of the ruins, and you leaned into it. Your nose brushed his, your lips ghosted over his cheek, his chin, his jaw as he nudged wet fabric out of his path.

“My beautiful wife,” he whispered, soft voice little more than a rasp in your ear. “I’ve oft dreamt of this moment. In only the sweetest of those dreams, you were mine to do with as I pleased. I believe this will be even sweeter.”

Heavy fabric fell from your shoulders, away from your body with every button Aemond found. A pool of red rested at your feet, the color of your house abandoned for the love of your husband. But you were not allowed long to dwell on the matter as deft fingers fell to your rain slick skin.

With steady hands, Aemond peeled your small clothes from your body - violet eye remaining on your face the entire time - before he reached for his own. Your hands, meanwhile, tangled in the dripping strands of his hair.

“You are so beautiful,” you whispered, gaze roving the sharp lines of his face. “A true sight to behold.”

Aemond came alive with your praise, a light flickering behind his eye that reminded you of the man you loved so dearly, and you were glad for it as you stood bare before him. The weight of his searching stare felt lighter, more bearable, as he finally allowed himself a moment to savor the sight of you. It felt as if he meant to commit the sight to memory, to savor the chance he was afforded, and you chose to do the same as you traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips.

Slowly, Aemond pressed you back, pausing only when you reached the foot of the bed. It was low, easy to settle upon, and he seized the opportunity to press you into the mattress. “Lie back for me,” he commanded as he began to sink to his knees, “my queen.”

Warm, calloused hands found your calves, touch so light you couldn’t be certain you hadn’t imagined it as he leaned into you.

Before you, the vision of Aemond clad in the translucent white of his shirt and unlaced breeches, his hair falling free and his sapphire eye uncovered chipped at the fragile remains of your heart. Hope reared its ugly head, gave you reason to believe this would be your forever - the sight of your husband, gazing at you with a reverence you’d never before known - when you knew that forever was far from guaranteed. The moments you shared were stolen, unearned, and if the Stranger did not separate you, your father surely would.

But every thought, every worry, every doubt - each ceased to exist the moment Aemond’s lips pressed to your skin.

Every ounce of tension, of fear, of trepidation, of doubt left your body in a soft sigh as his warm mouth pressed to your ankle. He began softly, slowly, and blazed a path across your skin. Fire burned in his wake, the impression of his mouth seared into your skin, and your breath caught in your throat the higher he inched.

“Tell me,” he urged, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thigh, “is this what you wanted, what you hoped for all those nights we spent in the Dragonpit, in the library?”

The request was not one meant to stroke his ego, not one meant to serve as an admission of desire. It was not an idle thought, whispered in the heat of the moment. Aemond desired reassurance, acknowledgement that you thought of him as often as he thought of you, that you longed for him the way he’d always longed for you. It was a request for your love, for your commitment, for your comfort. And you long ago lost the ability to deny him much of anything.

“Yes,” you whispered, hand reaching for his - fingers twining together, grip stronger than you intended as you tethered yourself to him. “I always wished you would take me, make me wholly yours. I dreamt of sharing your bed, of seeing you like this. You always wanted to honor me, refusing to steal my maidenhead, but you cannot steal that which belongs to you.”

“Perhaps, if I had taken you then, we might’ve wed years ago,” he ruminated. “But I intend to make up for lost time.”

Aemond repeated his path, his lips pressing to your skin as he used his grip on your thigh to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. You could feel his breath fan across your skin, warming you from within, and you clasped his hand tighter as he nosed as the juncture of your thigh. 

Part of you imagined he would make you beg, eager for proof of your desire - of your need - but before your lips could part to utter his name, he surged forward.

Between your thighs, it was as if he was a man starved. Your immediate gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, earned a soft groan from him as he lapped at your folds with the flat of his tongue. His shoulders kept your thighs parted as his hand slipped between them, calloused fingers gathering the combination of your slick and his saliva before pressing to the bundle of nerves hidden there. 

With every jolt of your body, eager for something - to run from the pleasure or sink into it, you remained uncertain - Aemond shifted closer. He alternated between broad licks, the flat of his tongue savoring the taste of you, and kitten licks, reveling in the way your hips chased each flick of his tongue. Every noise you made was met with a hum of satisfaction, a palpable relief that he could please you in a way no one had ever been allowed, and you all but gasped his name as his fingers began to explore your slick folds.

The swipe of his fingers was foreign, the brush of his thumb over your clit caused you to jolt in his grasp, and you could feel Aemond’s lips curve into a smirk as he pressed his mouth to your mound.

“Ābrazyrys,” he whispered, breath fanning across your skin as he rested his chin on your thigh, “tell me how it feels.”

Words failed you as his lips wrapped around your clit and his fingers pressed into you - slowly, carefully, tenderly - and your breathing grew labored as he worked to prepare you. The only word your mind could recall was his name. “Aemond,” you gasped, fingers tugging at the silver locks drying in the curls he hid. “Gods, Aemond.”

Warmth filled your veins, your chest, the pit of your stomach, as he pressed himself closer. That violet gaze weighed heavy on your skin, able to see through the most carefully crafted facade, and each swipe of his fingers through your slick, each press of his tongue, chipped away at another piece of you. Bit by bit, Aemond worked to break you apart, to dismantle you completely, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you shattered.

And as his fingers pressed, filling you in a way you’d never experienced, you could only hope that he would piece you together again.

“Let go,” he whispered, voice a rasp in the dim light of the room. “Take your pleasure.”

Each sensation felt like too much, too fast, but you gave in to him. You melted into the uncomfortable bedding and focused solely on his attention. The warmth of his skin pressed to yours, the silk of his hair between your fingers, the soft noises he made as he devoured you; it all overwhelmed you in the most beautiful way.

The fire in the pit of your stomach grew hotter, lapping at your skin from within, and with each breath you attempted to draw, the more eager Aemond became to hear you cry his name. And as the edges of your vision began to white, as your fingers held too tightly to him, you gave him what he wanted.

With a cry of his name, loud enough to echo through the abandoned corridors, you came.

Fire, passionate and all-consuming, flickered in Aemond’s eye as he lifted himself. He stood tall, proud, and reveled in the lust openly displayed in your gaze as he finally shucked his own wet clothing. His tunic and breeches joined your own garments; green leather and red velvet, discarded for a union that neither side would consider sacred, but you knew the time to repent had passed.

Rather than dwell, you openly gazed upon the man you’d wanted for so long.

Aemond was perfect - beautiful, ethereal in a way that made your chest ache. There was an allure to him that called to you, a draw that pulled you in and refused to grant you leave. The angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose; he bared himself fully, no ounce of his soul hidden, and you swallowed harshly as you hoped the gods would forgive you for accepting it all.

“Make me yours,” you whispered, no longer able to remember why you’d ever considered resisting. “There is nothing left but us.”

One of the most feared men in the realm, quick with a blade and quicker with dragon fire, bent to your will. With an even stride and steady hands, he pressed you further up the bed before climbing in to join you. He settled above you, his hair falling - a curtain to shield you both from the world around you - and studied your face for a long moment.

There were tears lining your lashes, a product of the storm of emotion raging in the back of your mind, and Aemond was quick to bring a thumb to your cheek. “This is not the life you hoped for,” he declared, certain, “but I shall spend the rest of mine devoted to you.”

Little remained certain in your mind but you knew Aemond meant every word.

“I know,” you assured him, lifting your own hand to carefully brush at the jagged edge of his scar. “Hope is foolish,” you whispered, urging him closer, “it has caused heartache at every turn, but it lead me to you and for that, I am grateful.”

Without allowing him a moment to speak, you pressed your lips to his. The sting of the nick reminded you of where you were, of what had taken place, but you cared little for anything other than the weight of Aemond’s body pressed to yours. His warm hands held tight to the plush of your hip, fingers pressing into the skin so deeply you feared there might be bruises come morning, as he kissed you.

Emotion - fear, doubt, anger, resentment, longing, love - filled the kiss, a clash of lips and teeth and tongue that tasted of copper, but it was all you could do to keep yourself tethered to reality as Aemond traced the leaking tip of cock through the slick of your folds.

The first time hurt - so the few friends you’d made at court declared, giggled about when your father’s back was turned and your siblings wandered away - but you emerge beyond caring. And as he pressed forward, sheathing himself inside you, you found that the slight pinch, the sting of him, cleared the fog of your thoughts and brought the world around you back into focus.

As fearsome as he’d become, Aemond’s heart beat for you. The heavy thunder of it beneath your palm, the thrum of it beneath your lips as you pressed them to the pale skin of his throat, was a reminder that there was no other choice - there never had been.

With every press of Aemond’s hips, with every breath of pleasure, every whispered Valyrian praise, the truth grew clearer.

Hope was a mirage, affording you a fantasy that never existed. The life you lead was always destined to be one of fire and blood. The blood of the dragon coursed through your veins, dripped from the slit in your lip and your palm and spilled from between your thighs as Aemond claimed the last piece of you - a piece you knew had never been yours at all.

Every bit of you, every moment of your life, belonged to someone else; your father, your uncle, your siblings, Aemond. Now, there was nothing left.

A sob escaped your lips, a broken noise that saw Aemond pause. His head lifted, violet eye immediately meeting your own, as his hand lifted to your cheek. “Did I hurt you?” His concern was evident, proven as he stilled and searched for any hint of pain.

To lie would have been easy, as mindless a breathing, but the truth weighed heavy on your chest. “No,” you whispered, swallowing hard, “but I… you were right, this isn’t the life I hoped for. I do not want to continue fighting, to see more good people die. I’ve lost one brother, I cannot bear the thought of losing another. But I know that this, lying here with you, will drive them away. And you, Aemond.” Tears clouded your vision, hiding him from your view, as you admitted, “I just want you. I do not want to be queen, nor do I want to share my husband with the realm. All I want is to be happy, to be loved. I want to be free.”

Aemond frowned, eye rapidly blinking as he attempted to make sense of the words spilling from your lips, but you shook your head. “I’ve given my family my loyalty, my father my devotion, you my heart. I have nothing left to offer,” you whispered.

“Then let me fight,” he countered, tipping his head to meet your eye. “Let me end this war and give you peace. No more will die and when I claim the throne, I will never leave your side again.”

“A beautiful thought,” you nodded, “to be sure. But you can’t promise that, no more than I can promise we shall see morning. I do not want false promises or grand fantasies. I do not want a king or a warrior. All I want, all I have ever wanted, was you.”

Silence settled then, thick and suffocating, but you could see the emotion flickering in the depth of his violet eye.

Neither of you imagined this would be your reality, neither of you ever could have dreamed you would find yourselves fighting your own kin for a crown - a throne. Neither of you imagined a life outside of one another and now, faced with the realization that loving one another was not enough, you were at a loss.

“I cannot surrender,” Aemond finally whispered, gaze fierce - pleading - as he searched for an understanding. “And you are right, I cannot promise a long future. But I can promise that I will do much and more to return to you all that you have given me. You will be my queen and you will be beloved, kind and fierce in equal measure. And your family, your father, will not perish at my hand. There is no other path to be trod.”

“Our lives are bound,” you whispered, though a fresh wave of tears tracked down your cheeks. “Your path is mine.”

Aemond leaned in, then, and pressed his mouth to yours once more. This kiss was desperate, the kiss of a man seeking reassurance, and you offered it to him. There was nothing left for you to give; no more fire, no more blood. Now, you simply took the brunt of his desperation as he pressed closer to you.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice rough in your ear as his hips began to move once more. “I can promise that I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“And I you,” you reassured him, your own hand lifting to his cheek as his eye fluttered shut.

As Aemond’s end approached, his hips snapping quicker and his breath growing heavier, he repeated promises in High Valyrian; a promise to spend the rest of his life loving you, a promise to do whatever it took to make you happy, a promise to make right the wrongs that drove you so far apart. And though they were all grand, you knew he took each word to heart.

At his peak, he cried your name - a declaration of love following - before he collapsed into you. His head pressed to your chest, his thigh draped over yours, he held you tight and you allowed him. Your fingers combed through the curling strands of his hair, over the line of his jaw, as you stared up at the crumbling ceiling.

“This war will end,” he finally whispered, voice carrying on the cool night wind, “and we shall begin anew.”

Though hope abandoned you at Harrenhal, finally freeing you of its cruel embrace, Aemond found it. In the rubble and ash, surrounded by the ruins created by your ancestors, he vowed to give you what no other ever had; the love you’d always dreamt of, the life you’d always hoped for. 

Hope was a dangerous thing, but nothing was more dangerous than Aemond Targaryen.

____________________________________________________

Author's Note: Started. Blacked out. Here we are. Bone apple teeth.

Taglist: @anaya-rhys, @holypeacecrown, @marvelously-flawed, @travelingmypassion, @letsgotothehop, @reynacrawford, @liannafae, @ffsg0jo

[lucedilunax]

Written by a woman - L. Hughes

Songs masterlist

song: Written by a woman - Mae Muller

pairing: Luke Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Moments in Luke and his girlfriend relationship that made them realised, they are made for each other

warning: NSFW, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.3k

note: i had so much fun writing this! hope you're enjoy it as much as i do haha

masterlist

---

She and Luke met in Michigan. Both were students searching for fun and nothing more. She had been in terrible relationships and lost all her hope to find a right man, especially during her college years. Luke was scared to open his heart because every girl was using him to get into his brothers. They were two teenagers with trust issues, terrified of another disappointment in love.

One party changed everything. She opened herself for Luke and Luke felt that she’s not gonna go for his brothers. Casual conversation turned to dates and later to relationship. They were soulmates despite coming from different environments and not sharing much of common interests. Their love can be summed up as right person, right time.

So cool but so kind

With that look in your eye

When she laid eyes on Luke, she saw the spark in his eyes. He was stoic yet cheerful. She couldn’t keep her sign out of him. He wasn’t blind. He felt her piercing eyes on him and decided to approach her. Luke was talkative and flirty. He was telling her stories to impress her, but he didn’t know that she’s already gone in him.

Luke was respectful, he hasn’t pushed his luck with her. He was way different from other guys who made her feel uncomfortable the minute, they started to talk with her. She found Luke as a very intrigue person. She wanted to know more about him. She asked him the most random questions.

After couple minutes of their conversation, she started to tell him about herself. Earlier it was all about Luke but now, she was the center of attention. She was telling him about her origins, her major and her hobbies. She thought that she might bored him. He was a popular hockey player, and she was just an ordinary girl but when she saw the sparkles in his eyes, she fell in love.

She felt so safe telling him all the stories. Luke was grateful that someone was looking at him as a person and not athlete. They spent all night on talking. He asked for her number and the next day, he asked her out. They say eyes are mirror of the soul and their eyes were showing it. Both were obsessed in each other, and they could communicate with each other just by looking into eyes.

And you ain’t scared to cry, what a rare breed

She was growing up in household where men weren’t crying. They couldn’t show their weak side. That’s why she always thought that women can cry. All her exes also never sheer a tear in front of her. She believed that they can’t show proper emotions.

For her, crying was like a release. When she was felt weak, mad, panicked or tired, she was bawling her eyes. It was helping her to settle her emotions down. She always wondered what men are doing to calm down.

When Luke picked up a shoulder injury and told her about it, he cried in front of her. For the first time, she saw a man crying. She was confused, she didn’t have a clue what to do. She froze in spot when this happened. She wanted to cheer him up, but she didn’t know what to do.

She asked him what to do and Luke told her that he just needed to release his emotions. He felt comfortable to do it next to her. She explained him why she hasn’t reacted and apologized but he laughed. He promised her that it’s normal and he’s doing this a lot of times. In that moment, she knew, he’s the one.

Your shoulders, your hands, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

Luke was lanky. Despite being an athlete, he wasn’t muscular. This changed when he joined New Jersey Devils. He started going more and more on the gym. His shoulders and arms became wider and gained more muscles. She loved him previously but now; she loved him even more. She loved dragging her nails down his biceps.

The thing she adored the most in Luke were his hands. They were so big compared to her. His fingers were insanely long. He knew about her kink on his hands and he used it to his advantage. He always had his hand on her. When they were on a walk, he held his big hand on her lower back or were holding hands. In a car, he always placed his hand on her thigh.

Their sex life was superior. She adored when he was fucking her, and she could mark his strong shoulders, later admiring the marks on his back. He loved to make her cum just by his fingers. With her, he learned that he has a thing for choking. When he was seeing his long fingers on her throat, he was going insane.

You can be rough

But it’s never too much

She trusted Luke, especially in the bedroom. He was caring and loving while they had sex. Although, they had unwritten rule that if he’s angry, he can use her. He was always giving her heads up so she wouldn’t be surprised. The minute he stepped back into their apartment, he was all over her.

She loved this side of him. She knew Luke would never hurt her, so she was letting him to have his way with her. Most of the times, he was deepthroating her and fucking in doggy style. When she felt freaky, she was acting like a brat just to see how it’s gonna end up for her. Luke wasn’t into punishment but when she was getting on his nerves, he would spank her.

After he was done with her, his priority was aftercare. He knew how important it is to show her love and respect, after he fucked her like a whore. He was always helping her in the shower and feed her so she could get back in strength. Later, he was cuddling her in their bed and whispering sweet words thanking her for this.

All day, all night

You’re on my mind

Since she and Luke started dating, they’ve been all the thinking about each other. Back in Michigan, when the lectures were boring, they’ve been daydreaming about what another one is currently doing. He was bad texter but on her message, he was responding immediately saying that he was about to call her.

When they were forced to live for a year in different states, they had been all the time thinking about each other. She was wondering how’s Luke doing in new environment, how his life looks like and how does he feels living with his brother. He was reasoning about her classes and exams, how she’s feeling being there by herself and if she’s still wearing his clothes all day.

After her graduation, she finally moved to New Jersey, and they rented an apartment. Living together hasn’t stopped them about thinking about each other. If she was working, Luke was thinking what’s going through her head. When he was watching hockey games, she was wondering which part of the match he’s currently analyzing.

All their thoughts were spiraling about each other. She could never get bored of thinking about Luke and Luke could never get bored of thinking about her.

You got me down bad, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

She knew she fell hard for her when all her future was going around his career. When Luke went to New Jersey, she wanted to go with him. How much he loved this idea, he knew that her education is more important. He was the one to force her to graduate university because she was ready to pack her whole life and go after him.

When she finally ended up college, she moved to New Jersey. She had better work options in Michigan, but she wanted to be closer to him. Luke felt bad that she’s sacrificing her career for him but at the same time, he was grateful to have her by his side. They were made for each other.

Luke knew she’s the one and despite their young age, he decided to propose to her. He saw a future with her and that’s all what matter for them.

---

thank you for reading💕

[edytae]

drunk love (smut-mature) ft. Kim Taehyung x Reader

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

summary: “Jerk off for me.”

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, pure filth but Taehyung being the greenest flag, OC is trying to be dom but whiny (as always), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, s*x on all fours, hair pulling, i want what they have.

word count: 17.2K

A/N: Please give it a like or reblog if you like it

masterlist | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | heat | Puppy Daddy |

————

“Namjoniee-” You continued to fake-cry as the large boy came closer to the couch with worried eyes. Taehyung had you sitting between his legs, trying his best to manage your drunk body. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Namjoon asked in a genuinely worried tone. His large palms took hold of your face as you tricked him. Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“T-ttaehyu-yung!” You gasped while digging your finger into his hand. Namjoon looked at him questioningly. Seeing Taehyung’s nonchalant face calmed him slightly. “What about Taehyung, sweetie?” Namjoon asked in a sweet tone. His fingers gently caressed your fake tears. 

“Taetae doesn’t let me touch his dick!” You broke into another cry as Namjoon let you go with a laugh. Taehyung welcomed your dramatic ass with a hug. You placed your head back on Taehyung’s chest and sobbed without any tears coming. 

“She can’t even stand with my help, she is completely drunk.” Taehyung shrugged. 

Namjoon laughed, “I am sure Taehyung would love that, sweetheart. But you are drunk for that.” Namjoon repeated what Taehyung said the entire night. 

“No! I am not drunk.” You opposed while Namjoon clearly smelled the alcohol from you. “He is just so mean! Tell him, Namjoon. I just want to touch him!” 

“I am sure Taehyung will do whatever you wish when you are sober, sweetie. Okay? I am leaving now, good luck man!” Namjoon realised there was no point in arguing, so he left you and poor Taehyung alone in the living room. 

“You are so mean Taetae…” This time you quietly said. Taehyung was hoping that you would run out of energy and fall asleep soon. He nodded when you accused him and continued to stroke your back. “Just let me see it!” Your hands hugged his waist stronger as you rubbed your face to his shirt. 

Taehyung felt his throat dry. It was so difficult for him to keep denying you while you asked for so many dirty things from him. He was determined not to do anything as you were drunk as fuck. “Baby, you already know my answer. When you-” He calmly tried to explain but you huffed the middle sentence. 

Oh, how dearly he wanted to fuck you against his door and make you cry and huff out of pleasure… But he needed to be sure you were able to give consent. With your drunk ass, you possibly cannot. 

“I can’t touch your dick; I can’t see your dick… What am I going to do?” You listed with a whine while his dick painfully laid against Taehyung’s stomach. If you were to sit upright just a little, you could feel it how hard he is for you. He continued to caress your back until you pulled yourself from his embrace. 

“Can I kiss you, then? Please?” You sniffed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Taehyung brought his hand to your nape, holding your hair in his hand. His adorable boxy smile took over his features. “Of course, baby.” Hey, nodded as his insides melted.

Your lips met his chin in a wet, sloppy peck. “Mwah!” You exaggerated the sound of your lips smacking. Nevertheless, your kiss made Taehyung breathless and weak. You tried to reach for his lips next, your grip was strong on his biceps hoping to tackle him. You kissed Taehyung’s lips cutely as he was smiling like a puppy.

You both giggle in harmony. “See? You can’t even aim your kisses.” Taehyung made fun of you while his arms pulled you over his lap. You didn’t listen and continued giving him quick pecks all over his jaw and lips, moaning into his skin as you tasted him. 

He groaned, petting your hair. “Baby…” Your drunken lips bit him down. “I love kissing you.” You confessed breathlessly as you kissed your way down to his neck. Your spit was decorating his skin subtly. When you exhaled on his wet skin, Taehyung felt goosebumps rise all over his back. “You are such a dirty girl…” He hissed when your lips sucked on his pulse. 

You groaned, letting yourself sit on his one thigh. Taehyung got tense as your knee brushed his crotch. You earned another hiss from him. “Yeah baby, I can be so dirty for you…” You breathed out, your hands dropped to his shoulders, generously palming them.

Taehyung dropped his head back. His body was on fire because of you. He felt dizzy, almost too weak to even breathe. His hips bucked up to your knee in between his thighs. 

You kept sucking his bottom lip, played with his tongue, smothering him in kisses up and down with your warm mouth while eliciting soft whines from him. 

“Fucking hell…” He cursed as you gently bit down his collarbones. You needed his lips more like air. “Your mouth…” He rolled his head to sides. His poor heart was beating frantically against his ribcage. It has been a long time since he felt this way just from simple kisses. 

“Do you like it?” You asked. Taehyung bit his lip down and nodded. He needed to stop you but couldn’t find himself say no to you.

“You are sooo good at kissing too, you know?” You pulled his head by the hair and planted open-mouth kisses on his neck. It was absolutely filthy, and he loved it. Taehyung placed his hand on your hip, your body reacted to him in seconds. He felt your knee pressing more against his hardness. “F– Y/N…”

“Mhmm, Taetae…” You sucked his skin on his neck little too hard. You can’t be blamed, he tasted too sweet, and you couldn’t resist. Without him realising it, you licked up the pink hickey on his neck gently. 

Taehyung stopped you before this before you lured him into seduction. He almost teared up, “Baby… Sit back like a good girl.” 

You were absolutely drunk, and he didn’t get consent from you when you were sober. If you slept with him in this state, it would mean he took advantage of you. Even though he wanted you like crazy, he pushed you away from his chest. If he was lucky, you would want him tomorrow too.

He wanted to whine and cry more than you when you weakly untangle yourself from him. “Okayy, fine!” You sat next to him, arms wrapped around yourself, pouting adorably.

“Don’t you pout! It’s not like I don’t want you. I really want this more than you, but you are drunk, baby.” He caressed your face as your pout grow larger. 

“I will never drink again. I will not so I can fuck you whenever I want.” You dramatically sniffed again. 

“Can I please fuck you whenever I want?” Then, you had the audacity to ask very politely. Taehyung had to hold himself like a saint so that he didn’t just fuck you to shape your insides. 

“Yes, baby. You need to be sober first.” No matter how horny he was, he would never touch someone without their consent first. You seemed to understand or got tired, so you mumbled something about napping before putting your head on his shoulder. 

“Mm-kay…” You nodded cutely and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Oh, how Taehyung’s inside melted. 

“You will feed me dick tomorrow, right?” Your cute voice ringed in Taehyung’s ear one last time as you drunkenly asked. Taehyung’s dick twitched in his boxers as he took one big breath to calm himself. He pecked your hair and lulled you into a sleep. You did fall asleep super quickly, so he took his phone out and scrolled through Instagram while you soundly slept on his side, cuddling him cutely. 

You woke up with a headache… next to a very handsome man entangled to you with the warmest embrace. After a few seconds, you felt the subtle presses on your cheek. “Wake up, sweetie…” An impossibly low voice called you gently as kisses were planted on your face.

“Mhhm?” You didn’t register after a few more kisses– well no one would say no to this. 

“You’re such a sleepy girl, aren’t you?” Taehyung spoke again with his unlawfully low and sexy voice. His teasing tone got your desires up from their slumber too. Talking about desires… Last night… Oh god…

As you slowly opened your eyes, the warmth of the morning sun greeted you, and you found yourself nestled in a cocoon of soft blankets and Taehyung’s safe arms. 

The sensation of tender kisses against your cheek brought you fully into the present. Taehyung lips brushed your skin most affectionately. His breath was warm, creating a comforting contrast to the cool morning air, and for a moment, you let yourself relish in the sweet simplicity of it all.

With your eyes still closed, you allowed yourself to savour the moment, the soft caresses and the way his lips felt against your skin. You knew that as soon as you woke up, you would be greeted by the shameless thing you said to him last night. 

When you finally opened your eyes, you were greeted by Taehyung's handsome face, his eyes soft and crinkled at the edges with a gentle smile. You wanted to cry about how handsome and pretty he was. His tousled hair and the hint of stubble on his chin only added to his rugged charm.  His face was puffy, making him look so real.

His low voice, a soothing murmur, broke the quiet morning air as he said, "Good morning, sleepyhead." His morning voice could make you choke.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling so embarrassed and still so relaxed. And as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, a shiver ran down your spine at the intimate touch. It was moments like these that made your heart skip a beat, that made you realize how much he meant to you. His care and concern last night were etched in your memory, a testament to the genuine person he was. And your sluttiness did test his entire character.

“Oh my god… Taehyung…” You mumbled as you hid your face into his arm, breathing in his neck while hiding from his eyes.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently. 

“Oh my… Taehyung, I am so sorry.” You said against the smooth skin of his neck. He chuckled with that unholy low voice as he patted your nape. “Why are you sorry, baby?” 

You buried your nose into his skin. “The things I said to you… Oh my god…” You groaned and tried to suffocate yourself. 

“Yeah?” He teased you as you whined. You shakily pulled yourself from his arms and looked at his face. He rocked a gorgeous bedhead and he still looked fucking hot. You blurred, “I didn’t mean– Fuck! I meant all of them, but I’m sorry.” 

Taehyung chuckled again, “You don’t need to apologise. You don’t know how much I enjoyed drunk Y/N.” 

“But still…” You shrugged and with a sudden mood change you blamed him. “But it was all your fault! You were fucking flaunting yourself, Kim Taehyung. You made me suffer.” Your serious tone was hard to decipher. Taehyung could see the real annoyance in your eyes while your lips were in a cute pout. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Taehyung laughed as his pretty eyes got squeezed shut. He rolled to his side as he held his tummy. 

You picked yourself to your elbows, visibly annoyed. “I can’t believe you Taehyung.” 

Taehyung’s laugh only grew more, and you grew annoyed. You huffed and turned your back to him. You were in the mood to play. 

“Okay, okay, I am only joking.” Taehyung hugged you from the back. 

You huffed and peeled his hand off. “No! You don’t like me! Don’t hug me.”

“Y/N!” He was still laughing at you. The audacity! 

“I told you that I wouldn’t let you get into my pants if you got drunk.” Taehyung was a thoughtful, honest man, but you were too horny for that. You needed him to rock your world. 

You thought you could stay mouth shut, “So you literally leave me to die dickless. Unacceptable.”

Taehyung loved your cute facade. “After I promised you could fuck me whenever you want when you were sober and took care of you in my bed.” He threw his long arm over you again, and you didn’t push him this time. 

He pressed your back to his chest; your hair tickled his chin. “I am ready to give you what you want.” He whispered into your ear, and in an instant, you felt yourself drip into your underwear. It was dangerous how easily he riled you up as you turned your head to him with a challenging look.

He was fucking tired of back and forth. “You gave me the most painful hard on yesterday and didn’t take care of it.” His sinful tone was enough to make you fucking lose your mind. 

Taehyung kissed behind your ear, you shuttered.  “Taehyung…” Your hand found his hair. “You didn’t l-et me.” You cried.

“You know I couldn’t do it, baby…” Taehyung cupped your tummy with his warm hand. His low voice vibrated your body. “How can I make it up to you? Mhmm? Would you want me to fuck you now? Have my way with you?”

You hummed sweetly and egged him to continue. He lowly chuckled, “Last night, you were begging me to see my dick, to touch it. You are so naughty.” 

“Taehyung!” You whined as he rubbed your tummy with his huge palm. You melted against him like an ice cream on a sunny day.

“I’m sorry, my sweet baby… I promise I will be good to you... if you want, of course.” He pleaded with a whiney voice as he continued to lure you. 

“You are so mean!” You whined again. Taehyung was so amused why your whiny voice. “I only wanted to spend time with you. That was what I ever wanted!” You truly came to this party to spend time with Taehyung. If not for him, you would have blast in your home watching Sewing Bee’s new episode.

Taehyung supported, "We are spending time. Look." He pulled you close to him. He was lying to Taehyung's left. His hot, moist breath hit his neck rhythmically. Her lips left small hesitant kisses.

That "bulge" you felt when your back was turned to him was now pressed into bed. But you remembered how big and tough it was, both from your hazy memories of last night and from a few minutes earlier. And all this made you motivated.

Since you did not know how to start a conversation, what to say without the help of alcohol, you resorted to a simpler method. You slowly caressed Taehyung's right cheek and got his attention, then pressed your lips to his. 

Taehyung smiled into the kiss before reciprocating. Your kiss was different than the last night. Last night, you were shoving your tongue to his throat. But now, the kiss was way more sensual. Your hold on his face grounded both of you as you treated your kiss as a dance. 

You followed his lips as Taehyung pulled back slightly to breathe and joke with you.

Just that simple action made him feel horny. He groaned into the kiss and welcomed your timid lips with so much eager. 

“Don’t bite me, baby.” The quietness of your tone and the pet name turned Taehyung on even more. 

Now, his poor erection was begging to be seen, touched and played by you. His lips became hungrier, sometimes tugged on your lip for longer. His hand grabbed on your nape as if you could be any physically closer.

“Can’t help it.” He slurred between breaths. 

You hummed and connected your lips together. Taehyung’s lips felt buttery smooth. Your spits smeared all over your mouths, so your lips and tongues glided perfectly. 

Normally, Taehyung would be the one that paced the kiss, pulled away to breathe. However, this time your roles were reversed. 

“You are gonna bruise my lips.” You whined when Taehyung harshly sucked on your bottom lip. 

He murmured inaudibly under his breath before rolling over you. He placed himself between your legs, his knees dug into the mattress. Your legs were thrown over his thighs. 

He breathed heavily against your ear. “Do you want this?” He asked. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Yeah…” 

To your answer, Taehyung pressed his body weight on to you. His lips now attacked your neck. He pulled down your t-shirt– well one of his old t-shirts. 

“Tilt your head back.” He ordered annoyingly whilst pulling the pillow under your head to create a perfect angle where he can suck hickeys. 

Taehyung was taller than you. Even though he always used the height difference to his advantage by towering over you, now it became annoying. 

He folded himself, pulled you up, albeit no position was enough for him. 

“I could eat you in one bite.” He growled out of frustration. 

You chuckled as he bit down the column of your neck, “Is that a promise or a threat?” You jokingly asked. 

“Both.” His lips lingered around your pulse. This time rather than open-mouth kisses, he sucked, surely leaving a big, pulsating red mark.

You chuckled at his poor attempts to grind. He was too tall, therefore, his hips poorly bucked up against mattress. 

You pulled on his nape. “But–” 

Taehyung faintly hummed in recognition.

“Taehyung…” You called him again. This time pushing his shoulders.

“Yeah, baby?” Taehyung detached his puffy lips away from your skin and looked up. His fluffy hair was all over his handsome face, covering those dangerous, brown eyes.

“You made me so upset last night. Are you not going to make up to me?” Your voice was so sultry, dangerously innocent. It played with Taehyung’s mind.

“A-anything, baby.” He said, a small globe of spit dripped down his lips to your t-shirt.

“Anything I ask?” You asked in a full, excited voice. 

Taehyung gulped, “Anything.” He was ready to give you his everything. You just need to name it. 

You brushed your noses together. That made Taehyung smile endearingly. “Are you certain you would do anything?” You further dragged this.,

Taehyung hummed, “Anything… that doesn’t involve my asshole.” 

You quietly chuckled at him. “You do have a nice ass, but that’s not what I want.” From his nape, you dragged your hands to his waist. You gently pressed him to yourself. He groaned at the softness of your body under his.

His voice, this time exceedingly high pitched, filled your ears. “What do you need me to do, baby?” He begged to serve you.

He was subtly grinding, his eyes hidden due to the strands of hair falling from his forehead. His begging voice was so arousing and empowering.

You brushed his hair away from his eyes to find them close. So, you opted for pulling them. His eyes opened a little.

 “Jerk off for me.” You breathed out. 

Taehyung’s eyes rolled back at your words. Out of everything you could ask for, you chose something that would sweetly torture him.

Blood rushed to his dick as if there was a race. He felt blood draining from his brain, making him a dumb boy– a toy that programmed to please you. 

“Y/N…” He groaned. His face was hidden on your neck. 

His pretty hair tickled you. “Taehyung, please…” You begged, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut. “Please jerk of in front of me.” 

Taehyung sadly pulled himself back. He was wearing a big pout. “I could fuck you… very good too!” He opposed but had already warmed up to the idea. 

“I need to see your dick first. You know– to tell if it is good enough.” Your challenge drove Taehyung mad, quite literally. 

His throat grumbled with a frustrated, low moan that exuded a dark pull that melted you.

Lifting the blanket that was draped over you, Taehyung lifted himself from the bed. Thanks to his broad shoulders, the pike hung down from his shoulders, reminiscent of a tent.

Taehyung stepped between her legs, folded them nicely, and put his hands on his knees. His meaty thighs were bulging inside his shorts and laying under your thighs. His shirt was another old graphic shirt that had small holes around the hem. Even the washed-out colours and messy hair couldn’t take a pinch off of Taehyung’s handsome face.

Despite the puffy eyes and a sleepy face, Taehyung stood tall and attractive on the bed. His weight slightly dipped the mattress. His shirt loosely hanging over his body, his hands caressing your naked legs. 

“You changed me?” You were wearing a dress last night. 

Taehyung nodded. “I closed the windows and turn off the lights to change you. I swear I didn’t peak or touch you. I just took off your dress—”

You shushed him. You trust him well enough to handle your drunk ass. You knew he handled you like the gentleman he is. 

“You didn’t even look at my boobs?” You disappointedly asked. 

His face twisted into a crying face. “Of course not, Y/N.” Like he was almost about to cry out of frustration. 

“Then, how are you going to jerk off? How do you do it usually?”

Taehyung shook his head to the sides. He wasn’t ready to tell you the truth. With a whine, he dodged the question.

When his chest was bare, your hands were placed on his forearms. “Can I touch you?” You asked, like him. 

His fingers trembled as he moved your hands to his chest. His skin was so warm, smooth. He shivered when your hand caressed his ribs. “Baby…” He moaned. His lean stomach was tensed to show the lines of his abs. 

Your mouth watered at the sight. You wanted to lick down his pecs, suck his golden skin. 

His abdomen was smooth, only a faint happy trail going down his shorts. A very prominent vein was pulsing just below his belt line, making you wonder what he was taming in his underwear.

“You are so attractive…” You breathed out. Your, now, numb arms helplessly fell. Taehyung’s eyes were closed but he heard the soft pat on the pillows. His hands wanted to follow the same pattern. With a steady hold, the warm, big palms caressed down your thighs from your knees. 

His sneaky hands halted at the skirt of your shirt. He opened his pretty, glossy eyes and spoke. “May I take it off?”  

He had been biting his bottom lip so harshly that they looked like bleeding. 

“Ah, Taehyung… Please do…” You begged; your hips bucked up to his hands. 

As his fingers wrapped around the skirt of the shirt, you gasped, remembering something particularly important.

“Taehyung…” You whined. His hands stopped and looked at you concerned but blown out pupils.

He waited for you to continue. 

“You didn’t peak at my underwear, right?” You asked. 

Taehyung nodded, “I swear I didn’t see or touch anything, baby. I promise.” His caramel eyes were genuine as he caressed you lovingly. His voice came out as a soft plead, a promise of protection. 

You shook your head. “It’s not that! I– I thought we would already, you know– bang.”

Taehyung's chuckle sent a delightful shiver down your spine, his amusement infectious. "Bang?" his deep voice echoed in his own chest. "I suppose that's one way to put it." He said very quietly.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you couldn’t help but join in his laughter, the sound blending with the tension in the air. "Well, you know what I mean," you muttered, playfully smacking his torso.

He caught your hand, interlocking your fingers together, his eyes sparkling with affection. "So, what, baby?" he murmured, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate.

You felt your breath catch as he gazed at you, his expression so full of love and need. "I wore a set that you would like..." you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Taehyung's eyes darkened with desire at your confession. "Oh, baby," he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "You wore something for me? I thought the pretty dress was enough of a fever dream.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of heat flood your body. “I wanted to surprise you," you murmured, your own voice shaking with anticipation.

His hands, still intertwined with yours, squeezed gently. "Can I see?" he asked, his tone almost desperate, his pupils blown wide with longing.

You gave a shy nod, feeling both bold and vulnerable under his intense gaze. Slowly, you moved his hands to the hem of your skirt. "I want to take my shirt off. You watch.”

He groaned softly in protest, but he followed your orders. He watched your arms go cross over your body, your fingers wrap around the fabric and gently pulled his t-shirt off. 

His breath hitched when he saw the delicate pink lace of your underwear, his eyes widening in admiration. "Fuck, you're perfect," he breathed out, his voice hoarse with desire.

Taehyung's hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards with a tantalizing slowness. His eyes couldn’t decide where to land, frantically going up and down your body. "I can't believe you did this for me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of shyness and excitement. "I wanted to make you happy," you replied softly, his fingers muting your voice.

“You have no idea how deep you got me,” he murmured. His one hand was placed on your waist. Firmly and boldly. Your stomach tensed. That didn’t pass unseen as Taehyung caressed the expanse of your stomach. He deeply groaned as he pressed on the soft folding of your stomach.

Then, his eyes fluttered on the price, your boobs. 

Taehyung had a not-so-secret infatuation with your breasts. They were soft, womanly, and made Taehyung hard every single time.

“Do you have enough material to jerk off now?” You asked, remembering you had one big mission rather than showing him your tits.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered back to you. He kind of wished you would let it go, but he was determined to do whatever you pleased. If he was correct about his feelings, you watching him masturbate could drive you mad. 

His hand abandoned you despite your protest. Your eyes immediately flickered down to the subject of matter, his clothed cock. 

Taehyung was readily waiting for you since last night. He was hard, throbbing, sticky and everything in between. You plagued his mind so much that he’d turned into a play toy you could command. 

Since he was a teenager, he was exposed to adult content. He kept reminding himself that he’d seen naked woman before as he struggles to understand why he was this deeply captured by your figure. 

Maybe it was your matching cute lingerie that shook his core, you taking time to think about his pleasure, about his dick. 

Taehyung hissed in pain when he squeezed himself over his shorts. For you, his voice was a taste of heaven. “You hard?” You asked deliriously. His boyish red shorts were only bulging, didn’t give a clear outline. 

“Yeah…” He murmured as he stroke himself a few times. Globes of precum had already ruined his boxers. 

When Taehyung took more time than you could endure, your hands intervened. Pretty painted nails grazed down his hips, just above the start of his v line. “Can’t wait to see it.” You murmured. 

“Do you wanna feel it?” Taehyung asked. He knew he was playing against the rules. 

“I–” You spoke of hesitation before letting yourself go. “Fine.” You surrendered. 

You held your hand out for Taehyung to grab. He took his sweet time with you. He held your wrists, opened your palm to lay it on his. He compared how small your fingers to him while knowing how you gawked at his hands.

You loved the lean, long fingers. His large, manly palm that could grab your entire face in one. You love to trace the veins that protrude over the back of his hand up to his biceps. You love how meticulously kept his nails were. You could eat of from his hands without any second thoughts.

You held your breath as Taehyung put your hand on below his stomach. Your fingers sneakily brushed against the happy trail you saw earlier. After letting you tease and feel him around, Taehyung pressed your hand to his erection. 

You gasped loudly. If you weren’t so sure of him, you could assume he stuffed something else in his pants. Not being able to control yourself, you tugged your hand free touch him without his restrict. 

You tried to make out the outline of his appendage by touching. His girthy length felt infinitely long as you brushed along it. He was radiating warmth beneath two layers of fabric and throbbed.

Taehyung hissed when you made it towards his sensitive tip. “Oh, wow…” You said. Your free hand came up to caress too. While your one hand held the tip, your other hand when down his length.

Taehyung growled; his hips bucked up to your touch involuntarily. “Are you impressed yet?” He asked through his teeth. 

“Intrigued.” You replied. Your voice was hoarse.

“Let’s not wait you for long, huh?” He asked. His hand pulled down his shorts first. The red pyjama shorts pooled down on his knees. Next were his black boxers. When your hands touched him through his underwear. You felt how much he leaked. 

Suppressing your laugh, you thanked him. “Can’t wait…”

Taehyung didn’t want to wait too. He needed direct skin contact in regards of how little patience he had. He didn’t care if he would cum straight away.

While you entertained yourself and salivated over his deep v line, Taehyung took matters into his own hands and pulled his boxers down too. 

His cock sprung out. You gasped. 

It was even more impressive than you had imagined, thick and throbbing, the mushroom shaped head glistening with precum. It was pretty. You didn’t expect less compared to Taehyung’s Greek good body. 

His length stood proudly. If you looked closely, you could see it pulsate. The needy thing almost turned purple from how hard it got. Your hands trembled as you reached out to touch him again. 

This time you were the one went hazy. You looked at Taehyung with big eyes. Almost unsure if you were dreaming. As your hands got suspended halfway, Taehyung nodded, allowing you. 

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, feeling the heat and the hardness of him. Taehyung’s response was a strangled moan, his body arching into your touch. 

You weren’t as mean as previously. You still took your time exploring him, but gentler.

“Pretty.” You mumbled to yourself. 

Taehyung laughed. No one called his dick pretty before. He shook the bed with the bounce of his shoulders. “You think my cock is pretty?” 

You licked your lips. Taehyung saw the hunger in your eyes. Only momentarily he imagined your smooth lips over his pretty cock. If you thought his dick was pretty, you would give it a kiss, right?

It was an idea to entertain another time as you gained more consciousness over the situation. 

“So pretty.” You repeated. 

Taehyung’s cock throbbed at the praised. Your eyes were locked on his dick. Both of his hands were wrapped around the base. 

You hummed; your hands tugged at his wrists. “Hands off–” You murmured. He didn’t want to stop holding it as he was sure you were going to tease him.

“Taehyung!” You called his name more clearly. “Please stop holding it.” Ever kind, you asked.

Taehyung poutingly released his grip to gladly let you take control. His pouty and whiny face egged you to do whatever you want to him.

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “Look at this…” Your excitement was silenced when his tip couldn’t be enclosed by the wrap of your index finger and thumb.

Taehyung groaned as his hips rolled against your tight hold. Your hand was already covered in his stickiness. You allowed Taehyung to roll his hips a few times, “See! It was your hands that made it look average. It’s huge…” You whispered it like a secret.

He held your thighs; his fingers gripped you hard. “Y/N…” Taehyung moaned your name from his throat. You were playing him around like a toy and he enjoyed it. “Baby…” His moan was bliss to your ears. You wanted to record it and listen every damn second of the day.

Only momentarily– to test if he would continue moan like that again, you tugged at his length once. Unlike his poor excuse of strokes, you used both of your hands and held him firmly throughout. His whole body shuddered with immense vigour even only with a singular stroke.

When Taehyung opened his eyes, he saw two of your fists wrapped around him, and yet a good two inches of his tip was still exposed. Your hold was fairly tight to compensate. Taehyung had a small brains space to speak. “Even with your two hands you can’t hold me properly.” He whispered to himself. 

You whimpered at the feeling of his hard dick. You felt the warm blood pumping, making him so heavy. Your insides were clenching sporadically while the only thing to ease you laid in your hands. To his relief, you stroked him again. 

When your palms glided against Taehyung’s dick simultaneously again, he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back to his shoulders. If you stroked him like this for more than five times, he would cum. No thoughts, just orgasm like he never had before. 

His entire body tensed with the pleasure that surged through him. Your gentle and timid hands, the way your fingers wrapped around his length, made him feel like he was made from gold.

"God, Y/N," he breathed, his voice trembling. "You feel so good."

His dick ejected plenty of precum to prove his point. His knees were spreaded further causing you to spread more. You saw this pleasure in him so much that you slowed down his movements. You wanted Taehyung on the line between pleasure and pain. 

Taehyung took a deep breath. "My tip..." He sniffled. You were avoiding his poor tip, thus giving him semi-dry strokes.

“What about your tip, baby?” You asked as you mimicked his pout.

You mimicked his pout, your tone teasing but affectionate.

Taehyung whimpered, his eyes pleading. “Please,” he sniffled, his voice a desperate whisper. “Touch my tip. I want it so bad, Y/N.”

You looked at him, pretending to consider his request. “You want it?” you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of teasing. “Or you need me to?”

He nodded frantically, his hips bucking slightly in a futile attempt to guide your hand where he needed it most. “Need! I need you, please,” he pleaded, his breath hitching. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Aw… Baby…” You made a sympathetic noise, but your hands soon left him completely. 

Taehyung’s response was immediate, a choked moan escaping his lips as his body arched into your touch. His hands returned to their iron grip on your thighs. 

“Why?” He gasped, almost sobbing. “Why stop when I–?” 

“You know why, baby. You know what I need you to do.” You whispered. You placed your hands over his, gently pushing him. 

Taehyung left red hand marks on your thighs when he loosened his grip. He was looking at you with the cutest pout. 

“Look at you! Crying baby with leaky dick.” You amused even though your panties were soaked through and through. The wet fabric was obvious to Taehyung, who was clearly having bigger issues now. Albeit you could feel the slickness between your lips, rubbing so messily to your underwear.

Taehyung's cheeks were forever flushed a deep shade of pink. His pupils were blown out, teared eyed because of how much you teased him.

“Ah, don’t be so upset. You make me so wet too…” You muttered as if you were the victim. If you weren’t so keen on teasing Taehyung, he would have fucked you to cloud nine.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered down to your clothed core, his pupils dilating further as he took in the sight of your soaked panties. His expression shifted as he soft the outline of your lips, a primal hunger taking over as he let out a low, guttural growl.

He bit his lip, his hand trembling as he tried to control himself. The sight of your arousal was driving him wild, his own need growing more intense with each passing second. He hiccupped; his voice was gone.

“Mhmm?” You asked him dreamily. He wasn’t aware of his own hand wrapping around his cock. 

You smiled. This was where you needed him. You looked at his palm wrapped around his base. The vein from his point finger had grown prominent and followed towards his elbow. 

He was–now– sweaty and breathless. His body ached as if he ran a marathon. 

“How do you do this usually?” You asked– meaninglessly curious about his own sexy time. 

“Do what?” Taehyung’s brain was nonfunctional due to lack of blood. 

You squinted; you weren’t sure if he was intentionally doing this. To warn him, you squeezed his tip. 

Taehyung whined, “Y/N! F-fuck.” He covered your hand in his sticky juice in seconds.

You pouted, “Don’t play dumb.” You were opposite of scolding him.

Taehyung shook his head to sides, “I– I just jerk off. N-nothing complicated.” He blabbered. 

“No toys?” You asked. 

Taehyung shook his head again. Now, he had iron grip on your hands and his hips started to maintain their rhythm against them.

“I am a dude, Y/N. I just stroke it for a few minutes, and I’m done.” He was telling the truth. He never had vibrators or fleshlights. His previous partners were too faint to remember. There was nothing he felt particularly attached. 

“Surely you watch something? Or look at something?” You egged him.

Taehyung nodded, “Yeah.” His eyes were closed again. His bottom lip caught on his teeth while he breathlessly humped the palm of your hand. 

Even though Taehyung craved stimulation, he couldn’t take another squeeze of his poor leaking cock. He continued playing into your game. “Sometimes porn… I- Your photos…” He murmured very guilty. He was literally in your hands so there was no point to lie.

You sent him a lot of thirst traps. He was ever gentleman, always respectfully looking at your photos and admiring them in mere seconds before his dick grew tall. He politely responded to them with floods of emojis and compliments. Depending on the content of the photos, he exterminated them almost immediately. However, more than many times, he had your photos flash through his eyes while stroking his cock. 

You were the perfect remedy for his dick. Those photos made his alone time pass so quick.

The answer seemed to please you as you giggled. “My innocent selfies?” You amused.

Taehyung gulped. There was plethora of different types of photos you sent. Some were fun and dramatic, and others were simply so fucking hot. “Mhmhm…” Taehyung nodded pathetically. 

For example, an innocent picture of your ass to ask if the colour of your jeans match your shirt… That juicy peach always made his dick harden. 

“What do you think about while looking at them, baby?” You were hooked in. You needed him to confess his deepest secrets and become addicted to you. You loved the nice, easy-going, bubbly man he was outside. But you craved the man behind the gentleman gestures.

You helped him to wrap his right hand around his dick. You adjusted his hold. “There you go… Tell me.” You whispered when he started stroking himself with cute shivers.

 “I imagine your lips,” he continued, his voice trembling with need. “Your lips on my lips, on my neck, kissing me, sucking me… I think about how soft they’d feel, how warm your mouth is.”

His hand moved faster, the slick sounds filling the room as he lost himself in his confession. His free hand grabbed your boob. He needed an emotional tit squeeze. 

You gave him that with a whimper. You placed your hand over his. ”You like it when I kiss your neck, baby?” 

He gulped and nodded. He enjoyed your small body pressed against him, your hands holding onto his shoulders cutely while you leaned in to place a soft kiss on his neck. 

“God, yes,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and desire. “I love it when you do anything to me…”

Taehyung continued, “I think about your body, how perfect you are, how much I want to touch you, taste you… I- I think about your boobs. You drive me crazy, Y/N.” His eyes rolled back in the soft feeling of your tit. He wished he grabbed them sooner.

“I imagine you riding me, your body bouncing on top of mine, taking me so deep… I think about how tight you’d feel, how you’d moan my name…” His voice broke, a desperate edge creeping in but still so deep, low, and manly. “How you would cry about how big my dick is…” He chuckled deviously.

You confidently giggled. Hearing him so openly express his desires fuelled your own. “You really like it when I’m in control, don’t you?” you chuckle– little too confidently.

“For now,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and authority, sending a shiver down your spine.

You replied, your voice exceedingly small. “Well, right now, you’re mine to play with.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he warned, his tone playful yet promising. His chest rose and fell quickly with each breath.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes locking onto his with a challenging gaze. “I will,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

“What else, Taehyung?” you pressed, wanting more, needing to hear him completely unravel.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, intense gaze. "I imagine you on top of me, your eyes half-closed, lips parted as you sink down on me, taking me deeper and deeper," he murmured, his voice a blend of raw desire and an edge of vulnerability. "I see you throwing your head back, moaning my name, telling me how good I feel inside you… how you’d lose yourself in the pleasure, riding me until you can't take it anymore." The words spilled out of his mouth

“You sound so fucking hot…” You cried helplessly. You dreamed about riding him. The mind image was perfect. He was built huge in height. He was your own big teddy bear that you get to hump. 

“I will make you take it. All of this…” He held his dick at the base and slapped it against his palm. His voice was sinister. 

You pliantly nodded. Your eyes were on his dick, silently watching every single move of his dick. He never seen a girl look at his dick with this much love.

“You will sit on me and take it, right baby?” He asked.

“I-i don’t know…” You blabbered. He was the biggest you ever seen in real life. Despite all the dirty talk, you were all bark and no bite. Taehyung was well aware of it. 

“I will make you take it.” He promised.

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his words making your heart race. “I… I want to,” you admitted, your voice trembling with both fear and excitement.

“Good girl,” he praised, his eyes darkening with lust. “You’re going to take all of me, every inch. You’ll be so full of me; you won’t be able to think of anything else.”

A whimper escaped your lips, your body aching with need. “Taehyung! I– you continue…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Yeah? You want me to continue? You want me to continue stroking my cock while watching you?”

“Yes… I want you to cum…” you confessed, your voice breaking. 

With a pleased smile Taehyung’s hand moved to his cock, stroking himself slowly at first, then picking up the pace. If you needed him to cum, he would gladly point you white. 

He groaned, “Let me see your titties better, then.” 

You unhooked your bra off and threw it away as words left his mouth. You looked at him with big eyes for his approval. “Nice titties….” Taehyung hummed while grabbing each of them one after the other. 

The sight of his hand moving over his thick length, combined with the slick sounds of his arousal, made your own need unbearable. You felt yourself almost combusting. 

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and filled with raw desire. “Oh, fuck… Y/N,” he groaned, his voice deep and rough. He made sure your heard all of his pretty noises.

Your hands trembled as they moved to your panties, slipping underneath the fabric to find your swollen clit. You gasped at the sensation, start to rub yourself desperately as you watched Taehyung’s hand move over his length.

“Ah, you’re gonna touch yourself too?” He cooed you but his eyes were locked at how your hands were stuffed into your panties.

“Oh, Taehyung,” you moaned, your voice filled with need and anger. “You make me so wet!”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Are you touching your clit, baby?” 

Your body trembled, your fingers working faster as you felt the pressure building inside you. You barely nodded. Your fingers were barely satisfying you. They were clumsily bumping at your clit to relieve the hunger.

“Taetae…” you panted, your voice a desperate whimper. 

“Look at me… I am leaking so much for you.” Taehyung pointed to his dick. His eyes never left yours as he continued to stroke himself, the slick sounds only intensifying. 

“I–” You huffed out of frustration. Your panties didn’t give you the room to help yourself. 

You were stuck to watch Taehyung’s orgasm ripple through his soul while you couldn’t even touch yourself properly. Maybe you shouldn’t have been this mean to him.

Your pout had become bigger as frustration built up in you. Taehyung watched your fidgety digits, but they did the opposite of help. Taehyung could change that easily. 

He placed his free hand on your thigh. Your body had a number of reactions: shiver, ran away, and then push yourself towards him instead. He gently squeezed up to the apex of your thigh, his fingers teased your inner thighs. 

You screamed top of your lungs. “B-baby!” 

Taehyung’s eyes found yours authoritatively. He didn’t need to utter any words. “I- got them for you. A few days ago…” You barely managed to utter while your body convulsed because of his fingertips.

“Hmm, your underwear? You’re cute...” With a smirk, he hooked his fingers around the delicate fabric and, with a swift motion, tore your panties off, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the room. The sensation of the cool air against your heated skin made you shiver.

“Taehyung!” You exclaimed in shock. 

His eyes darkened with desire as he saw your messy lips, glistening with your arousal. The sight of your swollen, slick folds and the way your wetness glistened in the dim light made his breath hitch. Your pussy was beautiful and inviting. A creamy peach for him to devour.

Taehyung’s hand continued to move over his thick length, his mouth salivated. His gaze was fixed on your exposed sex, the sight of you so open and vulnerable for him driving him wild. He groaned deeply; his jaw clenched. 

Your fingers, still trembling from the overwhelming sensations, hesitated as he ripped your pretty decent clothing away without any trouble. It was physically impossible for you to become hornier for him. 

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “So, I can continue...” He said while waving his cock like a torch. 

With a shaky breath, you obeyed, your fingers moving to your swollen clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation was electric, your body responding instantly to the touch.

Taehyung’s eyes followed your every move, his own hand speeding up as he watched you pleasure yourself. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Just like that, baby.” His breathing grew heavier, and his strokes became more urgent. “Put your fingers inside,” he ordered, his eyes locked onto yours.

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over your clit. “Do it,” he growled, the intensity of his gaze making your body tingle.

You shook your head to sides. “No, you do it. I… can’t…” 

His eyes flashed with something primal at your words, the hint of fear and the desperate plea igniting his desire further. "Scared?" he repeated, a dangerous smirk curling his lips. 

He firmly grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers back to your swollen clit. "Coat your fingers in that cream." he commanded; his voice rough with need. 

With a shaky breath, you obeyed, your fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, your body responding instantly to your own touch, now intensified by his commanding presence.

"That's it," Taehyung murmured, his voice low and husky. "Just like that, baby. Get all of that juice." His own hand resumed its motion on his thick length, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his gaze making your body tingle.

His strokes on himself became more urgent, the slick sounds of his arousal filling the room. "You're so fucking wet for me," he groaned, watching the way your fingers moved, the way your body trembled. 

After he was satisfied the amount your two finger was coated, he ordered, "Put those fingers in my mouth." 

Taehyung made you withdraw your fingers from your dripping pussy and brought them to his mouth. His lips closed around them immediately, his tongue swirling around your digits, tasting every drop of your arousal. 

His eyes rolled back at your taste. His entire chest vibrated with a growl. 

Taehyung sucked on your fingers greedily, his eyes never leaving yours. As he continued to taste you, his hand never stopped moving over his length, the slick sounds of his stroking mingling with the wet noises of his mouth.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered around your fingers, his voice muffled but filled with lust. The sight of him devouring your essence, combined with the feeling of his mouth on your fingers, drove you to the edge.

Your body trembled with anticipation, the pressure building inside you becoming almost unbearable. “Taehyung, please cum for me.” you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea. 

With a final, deep groan, Taehyung released. 

His pupils dilated with primal lust as he quickened his pace, his hand moving frantically over his length. His breathing grew ragged, his moans louder, filling the room with the sound of his impending release.

With a guttural moan, his body shuddered, his hand moving in a frenzied blur as he came. His release spurted over your thighs and tummy. His hot and stick coated your skin. 

His face crumbled into a frown as his orgasm painfully washed him all over. He continued to stroke himself, milking every drop. His eyes never left yours while you writhed on the bed. 

As the waves of his orgasm subsided, he looked at you, breathless and flushed. A sheepish smile decorated his handsome face. His chest heaved with the effort of catching his breath, his gaze filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.

Your eyes broke eye contact moments ago. You were looking at dick with awe and how his sticky cum painted your tummy. “You have a decent aim.” You chuckled while looking at the globe of his juice right on your nipple. 

Taehyung chuckled; his hand got all the damage. “Couldn’t help myself. You taste really good,” he amused, his voice hoarse from the intensity of his release. 

You deeply sighed. Your voice was barely a whisper, trembling with the remnants of your own excitement. "You are so fucking hot."

He smirked, tracing a finger through his cum on your tummy. "You like being my canvas?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

Your body shivered at his touch, the warmth of his finger sending sparks through your skin. "Yeah…" you murmured, your eyes meeting his once more.

Taehyung’s expression softened, a look of pure adoration shining through his eyes. "Good," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. "Did you make sure I was good for you, baby?" he teased.

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. "You were perfect," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection.

He grinned, his hand caressing your side. "Perfect, huh?" he said, his tone playful. 

You watched Taehyung deliriously come down from his orgasm to realise he came all over your chest. 

“Look at the mess you made.” You tried to say pointedly. Your core was entrenched, mixing with his release on your skin. Every inch of your skin was still burning as you weren’t granted a beautiful orgasm like Taehyung’s.

You dipped your fingers between your lips. The warmth and stickiness welcomed you. Everything was so sensitive. 

Taehyung's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his release mingling with your own arousal on your chest. He could see the frustration in your eyes, the need for your own release still burning within you.

"Do I get to touch you now?" He asked with forced pout. His hands pushed your thighs apart by pulling your knees. Your lips separated from each other to allow him to have a view of your clit.

You nodded eagerly. "You made me so wet, Taehyung," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with the remnants of your own excitement. The words ignited something primal in him, his gaze darkening with renewed desire.

He reached down, his fingers gently brushing against your drenched lips. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath hitching in response. "I can see that," he murmured, his voice low and husky. 

His fingers teased your folds, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. He brought his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight made your core throb with need. He looked so primal when he enjoyed your taste. His eyes kept rolling back while his chest hummed like a thunder.

Taehyung leaned in. His body hovered over you. “This is how much I get you wet?" he whispered. You bit your lip and nodded. 

"It's so fucking sexy," he breathed out heavily.

You moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Taehyung..." you whimpered, your body aching for more of his touch.

He smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I want to taste you," he said, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel your juices on my tongue. I want to make you come all over my face."

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming need coursing through you.

He leaned down to connect your forehead lovingly despite the filthy he was uttering. You almost kiss-attacked him. He was amused by your enthusiasm. His one hand continued to support his weight over you while the other was placed on your face. 

He cooed your cheek while your desperation grew big enough to bite Taehyung off. He chuckled, “Do you want to paint my face with your sweet cum, baby?” 

You whimpered under him. He was so annoying! He didn’t let his body pressed against you. You needed his every curve of his Godly body to compress yours until you become one.

"Yes," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. 

His eyes darkened with hunger at your words. "Are you going to let me taste every single drop?" he murmured. 

His dirty talk drove you crazy. Your bratty hand acted on the urge, and you pulled Taehyung’s hair– maybe a bit too hard. 

Taehyung didn’t mind a bit. He was glad he was able to turn you on beyond his imagine. He let you pull him to your will. 

“Please baby, I want to have it straight from the source.” Taehyung begged. His bottom lip already caught in your teeth, sucking at it like his little vampire. 

Your desperation switched off something in his brain. He wanted to fuck you into another dimension, to defile any common sense, to make you forget everything but the feeling of him inside you while he feels like a puddle at your feet, doing whatever you need.

His hands moved with purpose, yanking your hands from his body. When meeting his darkened gaze, you pouted. “I- I wanted make out.” You asked softly.

He leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a fleeting kiss, enough to make you feel the warmth of his breath but not enough to satisfy your craving. "Not yet, baby," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "You’ll get all the kisses you want after I’ve had my taste."

After Taehyung returned to his previous position in between your legs. Your hands tried to search for him, but your attempts remained futile.

Taehyung’s gaze flickered to the dried remnants of his release on your skin. The sight of it only seemed to stir something deeper inside him. Without another word, he grabbed his discarded shirt, gently wiping away the sticky evidence of his earlier climax. His movements were tender, almost reverent, as if he were preparing you for what was to come next.

As he finished, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with intent. "You’re too beautiful to be covered in anything but my cum, but it must be annoying to have dried cum all over you," he murmured, his tone both possessive and adoring. 

You shrugged. It wasn’t the best feeling, but you would do anything to feel his hands around you… which was dangerous.

He tossed the shirt aside and settled himself back between your legs, his large hands spreading your thighs wide open.

Your body trembled under his intense gaze, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape. The air between you was thick with anticipation, the heat of the moment making your skin prickle with desire.

Unlike you, he had mercy and spared you an unnecessary foreplay.

Taehyung's need for you was almost unbearable, so he lifted your legs onto his shoulders.

You shrieked but allowed him to continue after his eyes clocked onto yours. He kissed your calves calmly while you adjusted to the idea of having his lips on your core. 

After a few seconds, Taehyung lowered himself to his elbows, your thighs resting on his shoulders. 

As Taehyung settled between your legs, his breath hitched at the sight before him. Your core was glistening with arousal, your lips slightly parted and inviting, a sight that sent a surge of desire coursing through him. His gaze darkened, filled with an almost overwhelming need as he took in every detail—the way your wetness pooled, the way your body seemed to pulse with anticipation. He could barely hold back the growl that rumbled in his chest.

His fingers gently spreaded your folds. The cool air against your wetness made you shiver, and you could see the hunger in his eyes as he took in the sight of you. A string of curse left his filthy mouth. "Fuck, baby... You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice dripping with lust. His fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

"I love seeing you like this... so needy, so ready..."

He pressed soft kisses to your thighs, inching closer to your core but deliberately avoiding it. The anticipation was driving you wild, and he could tell by the way your hips subtly shifted, seeking more contact. But Taehyung was in control, savouring the moment, letting the tension build.

"Do you know how badly I want to taste you right now?" he whispered against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "To feel you come undone on my tongue? I can’t wait to make you scream my name..."

His lips brushed just beside your folds, his tongue darting out to lick a tantalizing line along your thigh, avoiding your most sensitive spot by a mere inch. The teasing had you trembling, every nerve in your body alight with desire.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he groaned, his voice low and guttural. "I want to cum so hard that you forget your own name." He believed every single word with such determination that he surely would do everything he promised.

His closeness had just hit you. His handsome face was in between your thighs. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. One of your feet was touching his back while the other dangled in the air.

Oh, how the tables have turned. The sharp contrast of his hot breath against the coolness of your skin made every inch of you hyperaware, each nerve ending alive with a mix of desperation and surrender. His large hands gripped your hips, not just to hold you, but to claim you, grounding you in the moment and reminding you that this was his domain now.

Taehyung felt your shaky breaths, the way body tensed. He looked up at you from between your legs– a sight for sore eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with an underlying edge of frustration. “Tell me what you need.” His hands caressed your hips.

You avoided his gaze, your voice trembling as you admitted, “I– I’ve never come from oral before…”

Taehyung’s expression softened with understanding, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination. “It’s okay, baby,” he said gently. “I’m here to make sure you feel everything you need. Whether you cum or not, I’m going to savour every moment of eating you out.”

He leaned closer, his lips placed a small kiss on top of your pelvic bone. You groaned; your hips followed him.

“Allow me to explore you, baby. Please,” he murmured, his voice a low, comforting purr. 

His confidence and tenderness washed over you, helping to calm your nerves only a bit. You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation of his touch. With a reassuring nod, you let go of the hesitation, trusting him completely.

“Or perhaps I should have made you pleasure yourself in front of me, just like you did for me,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing your inner folds, sending a wave of delicate shivers and hitches through your body. His breath was hot and teasing, skimming over your most sensitive spots without quite touching them.

His lips danced near your clit, your sweet opening, each breath he inhaled your scent and taste.

Since the beginning he let you control his body to your wish. By trusting that bratty thought, you pulled Taehyung straight to your core. 

Yet, Taehyung remained steadfast.

His eyes locked onto yours with an intense, piercing gaze, every bit of his dominance conveyed through that single look. His brow arched with an almost imperceptible challenge, his expression one of commanding authority despite his position.

Your core gushed. If he were stimulating you, even a little bit, you were sure you would squirt out.

Taehyung started kissing around your lips when your sweet hole was covered in sticky juice. He began with soft, teasing kisses, against your most sensitive skin. “God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, his voice laced nothing but raw hunger. “You need my lips here, baby?” He asked but didn’t wait for your answer.

Your core clenched, your spine shivered every time he let his lips press against your core. Taehyung smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you in that moment. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you as he finally pressed a firm kiss to opening.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he muttered, his voice husky as his mouth filled with your taste. “I could spend forever down here, just tasting you, driving you wild until you can’t take it anymore.” With that, he dipped his tongue between your folds, moving slowly at first, savouring every drop of your wetness. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as your hips tried to move in their own.

He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, flicking strokes. His mouth worked you high and down. For a while he stayed face down in your core. His entire face was in contact with your core, which made you wetter than water. 

He quite literally ate you like a dinner. He welcomed every single drop, drag, and push his tongue into every crevice. 

Taehyung’s relentless focus on your core made it clear that this was maybe more about his pleasure than yours. And this fact didn’t make you mad at all. The way his tongue moved, the way he groaned and devoured you with such fervour—it was evident that he was utterly lost in the act. His lips, tongue, and even his nose dragged against your most sensitive skin, every movement calculated to keep you on the brink of madness.

You could feel how much he was enjoying it too. He was practically worshipping every inch of you with his mouth. His hands gripped your thighs with a possessive urgency, keeping you in place as if he couldn’t bear the thought of losing contact with you even for a second. He wasn’t just eating you out; he was indulging himself, drawing out every moan, every gasp, every drop of your arousal with a ravenous need that was both thrilling and overwhelming.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled against your slick skin, his voice hoarse with desire. He wasn’t just tasting you—he was savouring you, his tongue plunging deeper, swirling, flicking, exploring every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough.

Every time you tried to pull away, your body overwhelmed by the intensity, he would growl in protest, his hands tightening their grip, pulling you back to him. “Don’t you dare move, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He buried his face deeper, his tongue working you with a relentless rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. His moans vibrated through you, each one a reminder that he was doing this as much for his own pleasure as for yours. He was completely immersed in you, drinking in every bit of your essence like he was starved for it.

“God, I love this.” And then he was back at it, his mouth on you again, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough, like he never would.

You really wanted to orgasm from his mouth. You were crazy about this man. But every time you thought you might find some rhythm, he switched up his rhythm, keeping you on edge, driving you closer and closer to the brink.

Taehyung noticed the tension in your body, the way you were teetering on the edge but not quite able to tip over into the release you so desperately craved. His eyes flicked up to yours, a knowing glint in them, as if he could read your thoughts.

He decided without delay that it was time to push you over that edge. You have suffered enough of your own teasing. Also, he could tease you longer the next time.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he adjusted his grip on your hips, holding you firmly in place. His tongue began to work with an intensity that was almost overwhelming, circling and flicking your clit with a precision that had you gasping for breath. Each movement was deliberate, calculated, designed to bring you closer and closer to that elusive climax.

Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, your body trembling with the effort of holding on. "Taehyung, I- If you want me to cum– finger me," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with frustration and desperation.

Taehyung’s gaze never wavered, his smile shifting into something darker, more intense. “If that’s what you want…”

He had been pushing his long tongue in your hole, so you were fairly ready for him. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his middle finger into you, the motion slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch as he filled you. 

The sensation was immediate, almost overwhelming, the pressure of his fingers against your inner walls sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

He didn’t rush. With his fingers buried deep inside you, he began to curl them with precision, searching for that spot he knew would make you unravel. His movements were purposeful, almost teasing, as if he were daring you to beg for more. All the while, his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, each touch calculated to push you closer to the edge.

"Is this what you craved, baby?" he murmured, his voice dripping with a mix of challenge and desire. "To feel my fingers inside you?” Your response was a choked moan, your hips arching off the bed, instinctively seeking more of his touch. Despite his calm demeanour, you were writhing on the bed, fisting the bedsheets and pillows. 

Taehyung’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression a mix of intense focus and unrestrained desire. He watched your every movement, your writhings on the bed, and the way your hands fisted the bedsheets and pillows. The sight only fuelled his determination to push you further.

“Do you want another finger, baby?” he asked, his voice a sultry murmur as he curled his fingers inside you, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Without waiting for a response, he slipped a second finger in, stretching you gently, his movements smooth and deliberate.

He could feel your walls clenching around him, your body reacting to every touch with increasing desperation. Taehyung’s thumb continued its relentless dance on your clit. 

His voice laced with a teasing edge, “Let’s see if you can cum now.” He didn’t wait for your reply. Instead, he bent his head lower, his lips capturing your clit with a hungry, determined fervour. His tongue flicked and swirled around it, sucking, and licking with a fervent intensity that had your body tensing and trembling under him.

As Taehyung’s lips enveloped your clit, a jolt of electrifying pleasure surged through you, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. His touch was relentless and insistent, each flick of his tongue pushing you further into a state of lustful delirium.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled against your sensitive flesh, his breath hot and moist. “I can’t get enough of you.” His words were rough, each syllable dripping with raw desire as his tongue licked and sucked with a fervent determination.

Your body arched instinctively towards him, hips thrusting up to meet his mouth, desperate for more. The sheets beneath you were tangled in your frantic movements, your hands clawing at them as if trying to hold onto the last shreds of control. Every stroke of his tongue felt like a wave crashing over you, dragging you deeper into the storm of pleasure.

“Please, Taehyung,” you begged, your voice ragged and trembling. “Don’t stop. I need this so badly. Please make me cum.” Your words were a mix of desperation and longing, a plea for the release that felt just out of reach.

Taehyung’s response was a low, approving groan, his mouth continuing its relentless assault. “You want it bad, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “In fact, you did since last night, right baby? I got your sweet pussy hot and bothered and didn’t fuck it.”

His fingers moved in sync with his tongue after he spitted filth. He thrusted in and out of you with a steady rhythm that had you stride towards your long-waited orgasm. The pressure inside you built with every pass of his tongue, each flick and swirl making your entire body shiver with anticipation.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cried out, the pleasure becoming almost too much to bear. “I’m so close.”

His tongue worked faster, harder, his mouth suctioning your clit in a way that had you almost screaming with need. “That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Let go. Cum all over my face.”

The combination of Taehyung’s relentless tongue and the steady thrust of his fingers sent you spiralling into an intense orgasm. You gasped and trembled, your body shaking with the overwhelming release. Taehyung didn’t let up, his mouth still working its magic on you, his fingers gently coaxing out every last bit of pleasure.

When your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud groan that bordered a scream. Taehyung’s room was at the top level of the house he shared with his friends. Even though these sort of noises like this were common among the boys, Taehyung despised the thought of his friends hearing you so vulnerable.

“Be quiet, baby.” He warned you despite knowing you were on clouds, enjoying the pure bliss he granted you. 

At least that what Taehyung thought.

“Taehyung…” You gritted out. Your voice was shaky. Your body already went so soft under him. 

“Baby?” Taehyung worriedly reciprocated. Were you mad?

“I– I cannot b-believe…” You took in a shaky breath. 

Even though Taehyung had another serving of your delicious cunt in front of him, his worry came pass. He gently pulled back, releasing your legs from his grip, his face clouded with worry. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his voice laced with apprehension. 

“Y-you made me cum… from— with your tongue…” You whispered. 

Taehyung laid over you, this time his very naked body pressed on yours. His sweaty body pressed onto yours. 

“Hmm…” He hummed as he kissed your shoulders.

“I never had that before…” You confessed. “I t-think it was a weak one but… still…” 

Taehyung’s brow furrowed as he tried to process your words, his eyes searching yours for clarity. But before he could respond, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your juices were already dried around his lips. 

Taehyung’s chest filled with compassion and love that he wanted to blurt out love poems for you, but you had other plans.

“I need you to fuck me.” You said directly, right at his face. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and eagerness. The initial shock of your direct request quickly gave way to a playful, almost goofy grin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, heated kiss.

“Mm, you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves and contours with a familiar, but now more focused, touch. 

“You bring that out of me.” You said witty.

Taehyung’s smile widened; his amusement clear as he pressed another lingering kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured, his voice husky, “because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

As Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck, his mind wandered through the possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. The desire to take you was palpable, but he wanted to do it exactly right, to make sure every moment was perfect.

The first image that came to his mind was the classic missionary position. It was his favourite for so many reasons. He wanted to be close to you, to feel every shiver, every tremble as he moved inside you. The thought of looking into your eyes, seeing the raw pleasure on your face as he thrust into you, sent a thrill through him. He imagined whispering in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, his voice low and thick with desire. He knew how much you loved that, the way his words would send you over the edge. And if you got too loud—something he expected, considering how close you already were—he could cover your mouth with his hand, muffling your cries as he continued to drive you both toward ecstasy.

But then, another position crossed his mind. He pictured you lying on your side, with him spooning you from behind. It was intimate, close, and it allowed him to take you deeply while keeping you enveloped in his arms. The idea of holding you like that, his chest pressed against your back, his hand sliding down to play with your clit while he thrust into you, was incredibly enticing. You could do some cock-warming which he would greatly enjoy. Maybe it would calm you down slightly.

And then there was the third option, one he couldn’t get out of his head—he wanted to see you on top of him, riding him. The idea of you taking control, moving at your own pace, was a fantasy he’d played out in his mind many times. He wanted to watch you, your body moving above him, your hands resting on his chest as you guided him deeper inside you. But as he kissed you, feeling the way your body trembled with anticipation, he realized you were already too delirious with need for that. You were on the brink, your mind clouded with desire, and he knew that right now, you needed him to take control.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, his lips never left your skin, his hands still roaming over your body. 

“Taehyung,” you whispered, trying to catch his attention, but he was lost in the rhythm of his own thoughts, his lips now brushing along your collarbone.

His response was a low, distracted hum, his focus still on the way your skin tasted under his lips. 

You were growing impatient, your need for him intensifying with every passing second.

That was it. Your frustration peaked, and with a surge of determination, you pushed him off you, sending him back onto his ass. For a moment, he assumed you wanted to take control, to ride him into oblivion, and his cocky grin spread wider across his face as he prepared himself for your move. He leaned back, propping himself up on his hands, fully expecting you to climb onto him and take what you wanted.

But you had something entirely different in mind.

Without a word, you turned around, getting on all fours in front of him. You arched your back, pushing your ass out toward him, an invitation so blatant it made his breath hitch. The sight of you like that, so open, so ready, was enough to make his cock throb with need. His eyes darkened as he took in the view, the way your wetness glistened, the way your body trembled with anticipation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with lust. The cocky confidence in his demeanour only intensified as he moved closer, his hands sliding over your hips, gripping them possessively. “Look at you… so eager, so fucking desperate for it.”

He ran his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh firmly, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave a mark. The way you pushed back against him, the way you presented yourself, made him lose the last shred of restraint he had.

Without waiting for your next move, he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. He teased you with it, rubbing it against your slick folds, making you whimper with need.

Taehyung tried to line himself up behind you, eager to push into your warmth, but he noticed something that made him pause. You were a bit too low, and instead of sinking inside, the tip of his cock brushed frustratingly against your ass. 

Even though he was as eager for your puckered hole, he needed your cunt first.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “You’re too short, baby,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulled back slightly. “How am I supposed to fuck you properly like this?”

Before you could respond, he moved with swift determination, his strong hands grabbing your waist and lifting you up slightly. He shifted your position, effortlessly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. “Hold still,” he murmured, his voice filled with both amusement and lust.

Taehyung reached for a couple of pillows, tossing them down in front of you. He quickly rolled up a blanket, adding it to the makeshift mound. With a gentle push, he urged you to lean forward, guiding you to rest your chest on the soft pile, elevating your hips just enough to give him the perfect angle.

“There we go,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, admiring the way your ass was now perfectly presented for him. The new position made you even more vulnerable, your back arched and your body slightly elevated, just as he wanted.

His hands slid back to your hips, gripping them possessively as he positioned himself behind you again. “Much better,” he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Now, you’re right where I want you.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he leaned down over you, his chest pressing against your back as he brought his lips close to your ear. He kissed your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the roughness that had just transpired. His breath was warm against your skin as he whispered, “Are you comfy, baby?” 

You wrapped your hand back around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, a soft moan escaping your lips.

He was all over you. His weight pressed you down to the mattress so sweetly as if your bones were craving his touch. His presence consumed and grounded you. You pulled him closer, fingers tightening in his hair, not wanting to lose even an inch of contact.

Taehyung’s breath was hot against your cheek, each exhale sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, firm and steady, moved over your waist, tracing the curve of your hips. You could feel the roughness of his fingertips, the deliberate way he touched you, as if memorizing your shape. There was no rush in his movements, only a deep, aching intensity.

You arched slightly, pressing back against him, seeking more of his warmth. He responded with a low hum, his lips brushing your ear, a soft and almost teasing touch. Every moment felt heavy, charged with a raw energy that made your heart pound in your chest.

The intimacy of his touch, combined with the warmth of his breath, made your heart race and your body ache with desire.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and vulnerability. “Please…”

Taehyung’s lips curled into a satisfied smile against your skin. “Are you going to tell me if you feel uncomfy?”

Your back arched, a frustrated whimper escaping you as you managed a breathy, “God, yes!”

“Good.” he murmured, his voice both commanding and soothing.

He kissed down your shoulders, as far as his position allowed, each touch of his lips a mix of tenderness and hunger. The way his mouth moved over your skin was a stark contrast to the tension in the air, the gentle kisses only heightening the anticipation of what was to come.

You let out a deep, satisfied groan, your body responding instinctively to his touch. “Ugh, I should definitely make you give me a massage sometime,” you murmured, your voice filled with both admiration and a hint of playful demand.

Taehyung’s hands continued their rhythmic motion, a smile curling on his lips at your words. “Whenever you want, baby. I am at your service.” he replied.

When his touch moved closer to your hips, his breath grew heavier, and his teasing touches became more purposeful. His cock, which never came down, was hard and aching. He brushed against your entrance, the tip teasingly grazing your wet folds. Each slight contact sent waves of pleasure through you and him. Both of you needed a few moments before another touch.

He shifted slightly, positioning himself with practiced ease. The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, teasing you with its proximity. “How does my dick feel against you, baby?” he asked, his tone filled with a mix of arrogance and longing. 

“Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice dark with authority. “Beg for me to fuck you like you did last night.”

You moaned, your voice trembling with desperation as you pushed back against him, trying to impale yourself on his cock. “Please, Taehyung… I need you. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Please, I’m begging you.”

The sound of your pleas sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. He thrust into you with one powerful motion, burying himself deep inside you, the force of it knocking the breath out of you. The sensation was overwhelming, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain, and you cried out his name, your voice filled with unrestrained ecstasy.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with lust. “You are somehow infatuated with my dick, aren’t you, you filthy girl?”

Taehyung didn’t hold back after your desperate mewl. His hands gripped your hips tightly. The tight hold hid how his hands shook. Your ass fit snuggly as he pushed himself in very slowly.

His breath hitched as he began to push in, inch by inch, feeling the warmth of you envelop him. It was almost too much—the way you fit around him, so perfectly snug, as if made just for him.

Taehyung’s grip on your hips somewhat. He wanted to savour this moment. He needed to memorise every single crevice that he could touch. He needed to feel you with five sense he had. A low groan escaped his lips as he pushed in further, every slow movement making his heart pound harder. He could feel the tremble in his own thighs, shaking like noodles. 

His slow, deliberate thrusts made you feel every inch of him. He was big—almost too big—and you could feel every ridge and curve as he pushed in deeper, the fullness bordering on overwhelming. 

It didn’t hurt physically. You were plentily wet and seriously gaping for him. It was the teasing that drove you into frustration. It was the way he moved, controlled and precise, making sure you remembered he was the one in charge.

“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung murmured, his voice thick with arousal. His breath was throaty, and you could hear the strain in his voice as he struggled to maintain control. “Can you feel how deep I am, baby? How I’m filling you up completely?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your body reacting instinctively as you pushed back against him, trying to take him even deeper. The pressure was intense, almost too much, but it was exactly what you craved. 

He tsked when you tried to force, “Nah, baby. We can’t have you split open.” He looked at where you meet.

The sight before him was intense. He saw the way his cock stretched you, the flush of your skin blending with the dark red of his own. Your petals, slick with your arousal, parted around him, struggling to accommodate his girth. The delicate, glistening folds framed him perfectly. He could see the faint shimmer of your essence as it mixed with the base of his cock, creating a sensual, wet contrast that drove him wild.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, vibrating through your back where his chest pressed against you. “Fuck, you’re so tight around me,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation. “It’s like you’re made for my cock. You’re taking me so well, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the rawness of them only amplifying the sensations coursing through you. Taehyung’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you in place, his thrusts becoming more deliberate even though he was not fully in. 

You could feel the distance between his crotch and your ass. He was definitely not letting you take all of him. The size of him was concerning. He did take his time to get you ready, which was totally hot of him. Whenever he pushed further than before, it made you feel as if you were about to come apart at the seams.

You gasped, your breath hitching as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. “You’re so big,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of awe and pleasure. “I can feel you everywhere.”

Taehyung chuckled softly, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction. “Is that so, baby?” he whispered softly, his voice sending a thrill through your body. He pulled his dick out to see your gaping hole. You were right. He was stretching you out. With a sudden forceful thrust, he pushed himself in. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

“Taehyung!” you cried out, your voice high and desperate, your hands flew to grab his but failed. 

Taehyung didn’t answer to your loud ass scream other than soothing rubs. 

Again, he pulled back slightly, just enough to relieve you with the emptiness before thrusting back in, filling you completely once more. The stretch was almost too much but so sweet.

You seemed to better accommodate his length now. Your muscles clenched around him, trying to wrap around his size.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you moaned, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. “You are really something else.”

“Shh,” he hushed you. “This was what you were begging for.”

His words were like a drug. Each thrust was deliberate, slow, and intense, his cock dragging against your walls, making you hyper-aware of every inch of him. You could feel your own wetness coating him, making the glide easier, but no less overwhelming.

“How much left?” You pulled yourself up on your hands, managing to turn your head slightly to glance back at Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes were locked on where you met, his gaze dark with lust as he watched himself move inside you. He winked when you made eye contact.

His muscles were tensed, each movement of his body revealing the defined contours of his chest and shoulders. He looked like he was in the middle of a workout with the way his arms flexed as he gripped your hips, the way his torso moved with each thrust.

Taehyung’s breath was ragged, each exhale matching the rhythm of his movements, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strained as he held back, maintaining that agonizingly slow pace. “Not much baby. You’re doing good. You are perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”

Your body responded to his praise, tightening around him, drawing him in even deeper. The fullness was almost too much, and yet you craved more, wanted to be stretched to your limit. The sensation of him filling you so completely made you feel like you were on the edge of something profound, and you knew that with just a little more, you would tip over that edge into pure bliss.

There were no slapping sounds still as Taehyung continued to hold back. To match up to his movements, you started to push your ass. He smiled, stilled his thrust. He decided to let you pick your pace to ease any pain he might cause.

You groaned annoyingly when he came into a full stop, and you quickened your pace. The bedding under you shook as you tried your best to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Oh, baby…” Taehyung’s voice was low and filled with an edge of approval.

“You’re so eager,” he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and satisfaction. “Look at that ass.” He couldn’t help but give your ass a slap, watching it bounce .

“You’re fucking me so good, baby,” he murmured, the words slipping out in a tone that was almost submissive, but you knew better. He was playing a game, one you both loved.

He let out a soft whine, his hips rolling into you just enough to make you crave more. “You’re in control,” he said, his voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. “Make me yours, fuck me how you want…”

His words were like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a fire deep within you. The power he was giving you, or rather pretending to give you, made your blood sing with excitement. You pushed back against him, trying to force him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him inside you. But he could see how you were struggling and striving to meet his every thrust now that his strong hold didn’t ground you still. The soft mattress made you shaky.

You pushed back against him with all the strength you could muster, trying to find a rhythm, but the soft mattress made it difficult. Your movements were unsteady, your body shaky as you struggled to keep up with the game Taehyung was playing. His cock was deep inside you, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, craved the intensity that only he could give you.

A small, frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and Taehyung’s soft laugh filled the space between you. He could see how hard you were trying, how desperately you wanted to take control, but he wasn’t going to let you have it. Not really.

“Is that the best you can do?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “Come on, baby, show me how much you want it.”

You tried again, pushing back harder, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, but he just watched you with that smug smile on his face. The effort it took was exhausting, your muscles straining as you attempted to match his pace, but every time you thought you had it, he’d pull back, just enough to throw you off balance.

“Is it difficult, baby?” He asked mockingly.

Finally, with a low, satisfied hum, Taehyung shifted. His hands gripped your hips again, this time with a firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers dug into your flesh, grounding you, holding you in place.

Taehyung’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he anchored you against him. The sudden, commanding hold sent a shockwave of anticipation through your body. You could feel the heat of his breath on the back of your neck, each exhale a reminder of how close he was, how deep he was inside you. The softness of the mattress underneath you only heightened the sensation of his firm touch, the contrast making every movement feel more intense.

He leaned in, his chest pressing against your back as his hand slowly slid up your spine, fingers tracing each vertebra with a deliberate slowness. The touch was almost reverent, a stark contrast to the roughness of his hold on your hips. You felt the way your body responded to him, how your skin tingled under his touch, every nerve ending alive with the need for more. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Taehyung murmured, his voice low and filled with a raw edge that sent a shiver through you. “I can feel you tightening around me, baby. You want to cum, don’t you?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching as he pulled back slightly, only to thrust into you with a controlled, powerful motion. The force of it made you gasp, your fingers clutching at the sheets as you tried to ground yourself. But there was no escaping the sensation of him filling you so completely, the pressure almost overwhelming.

Taehyung’s hand reached up to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. With a firm but careful tug, he pulled your head back, arching your spine in a way that made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet completely connected to him. The sensation of your back arching under his control sent a wave of pleasure through you, the pull on your hair only heightening the intensity.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction. “You’re mine. Every inch of you, mine to fuck, mine to make cum.”

His words sent a shudder through you, the rawness of his tone matching the way your body trembled under his control. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat syncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The fullness of him inside you, the way his body moved against yours, the rough pull of your hair—it all combined to create a sensation so intense, so overwhelming, that you felt like you were about to unravel.

“Cum for me,” Taehyung commanded, his voice deep and authoritative, leaving no room for hesitation. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

The command sent you spiralling, the tight coil of pleasure in your core snapping as you tumbled over the edge. “Baby…” You whimpered as your body convulsed around him, your walls tightening, gripping him as you came with a force that took your breath away. A cry escaped your lips, your entire body shuddering in his hold as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

Taehyung let out a deep, primal groan, the sound vibrating through his chest as he felt you clench around him. The way your body tightened, trembling, and squeezing him, drove him over the edge. With one final, powerful thrust, he pulled your hair tighter, holding you in place as he came hard, filling you to the brim with every drop. His body shuddered as he emptied himself inside you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room being the heavy breaths you both shared, the lingering echoes of your release hanging in the air. Slowly, his grip on your hair loosened, his hand trailing down your back as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your shoulder, a soft contrast to the intensity of what had just transpired. Then, slowly, Taehyung pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You were still trembling slightly, the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through your body as you lay there, wrapped in Taehyung’s arms. His warmth surrounded you, the strong beat of his heart steady against your back, grounding you in the moment. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your breathing slowly calming in sync, the earlier intensity now replaced by a peaceful stillness.

Taehyung’s hand moved up to your face, his fingers brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the firm, commanding hold he’d had on you just moments ago. He pressed another kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice still a little rough from the exertion. There was a tenderness in his tone now, a softness that made your heart swell.

You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his. The intensity in his gaze had softened, replaced by something more intimate, more vulnerable. You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m more than okay.”

His lips curved into a lazy smile, one that made your chest tighten with affection. “Good,” he murmured, his hand trailing down your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Because you just took everything I had to give.”

You chuckled softly, the sound easing the last of the tension that had been coiled in your muscles. “I could say the same to you,” you teased, your fingers brushing over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

He let out a contented hum, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a protective hold. “I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out so naturally, so effortlessly, that it took a moment for them to fully register.

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. His eyes were soft, filled with an emotion so deep and genuine that it made your breath catch. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt—just the pure, unfiltered truth of how he felt.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. The words felt right, as if they’d been waiting to be spoken, to be shared in this quiet, intimate moment.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss, one that spoke of everything you’d just shared and everything you would continue to share. It wasn’t the enthusiastic, desperate kiss from before, but something deeper, more profound—a kiss that sealed a promise, a bond that had only grown stronger.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-closed as he basked in the afterglow of the moment. “What do you wanna have for breakfast?” he said softly, his breath warm against your lips.

You smiled up at him, still catching your breath, your heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm. “How about I take you to my favourite brunch place? It’s on me,” you offered, your voice soft and content. The thought of sharing a lazy morning together, enjoying good food and each other’s company, made your chest feel warm.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with interest, a grin spreading across his face. “That sounds perfect,” he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“But first… maybe we should catch a little more sleep,” you added with a yawn, feeling the pull of exhaustion from the intensity of the night.

Without another word, he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together comfortably on the soft mattress. His arm wrapped around you, drawing you into his warmth as your eyes fluttered shut. Within moments, you felt yourself drifting off, your head nestled against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

And as you both fell asleep, the promise of a cozy morning and a delicious brunch hung in the air, waiting for you when you woke up.

————

If you like this, please give it a like and reblog. Also, you MUST check my other works. masterlist |  inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | heat | Puppy Daddy |

[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who proposed to you under the eiffel tower. it was a weekend full of romance and love, so many activities and promises filling your schedule that it didn't seem strange at all when he took you to the eiffel tower in the middle of the night; but when he knelt down and held your hand, you swore that the whole world had disappeared and that only you and Taehyung existed — he made everything disappear, except your love. “i want these days to repeat themselves until the end of our days. will you marry me?”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who writes in your wedding shoes and you in his. it was a small idea he had the night before the wedding: like a good luck charm, Taehyung suggested exchanging signatures on your shoes, as if showing everyone that you, even before getting married, had already shared a long journey of life together. “it’s like a symbol of good luck. to show that we will always walk side by side and be there for each other no matter what.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who takes photos of both of you in shop windows. it was a custom that Taehyung created when you were still dating: it was a simple, banal, even sweet way of marking not only your date but also your clothes; huge photographs of you as a blurred couple became special to both of you, as if announcing to everyone that not only were you together, but you were also constantly going out — the flame of your relationship never went out, not even when you got married. “i can count how many times we went out to share our love and how many times i loved you in public. there is nothing more beautiful than that.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG that takes you to see romantic plays and recitals. weekend nights became more exciting when Taehyung showed up with two tickets to the new play that was showing at the city theater; they were hours of pure love, faked between rehearsed lines and precise movements, but, nevertheless, beautiful and credible — so credible that Taehyung could only compare your relationship to theirs. “i have tickets for a new ballet recital. it's about two lovers who are destined to be together, just like us. let's go?”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who offers you a locket with your wedding date inside. the golden thread glittered in the sun, enchanting the world with the love that Taehyung felt for you; inside it, a small white fabric was stained with a very strong blue paint: a part of the shirt that Taehyung wore to the wedding and the pen that you two used to sign the reality of a dream. “so that the happiest day of our lives can provide a little strength and happiness on heavier days.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who always shows you a rainbow because he believes that it is the gods celebrating your love. Taehyung believed that the happy colors of the rainbow were a reflection of your history: seven stages that led you to the present, seven encounters that fueled you during your dating times, seven promises that were the basis of your relationship — it seemed like number seven was your number and all the colors were the joys you brought to each other. “it’s us once again. look how the red and purple shine. it just makes me love you even more.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who swears that your love transcends physical death. even in your wedding vows Taehyung stated that there was no end to your love: physical death was just the end of a new stage for you; you and Taehyung would constantly meet again, not giving any value to the physical body when your souls spoke louder and he knew that nothing could separate you — not even death. “like a circle, our love is continuous without any gaps. in this and all realities.”

[hrrys6]