#and gasping for breath and instead of showing concern

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - Treachery Among Dragons

Summary - In a dramatic clash of dragons and family loyalties, Aegon and his wife face betrayal from within. In the fiery chaos, hidden confessions, devastating secrets and cruel rivalries come to light, culminating in a heart-wrenching plea that could alter the course of their family's future.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Violence (injury?)

Word count - 2301

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

As Aegon fastened his armor, the determination on his face was evident, but I noticed the slight tremor in his hands, a small, telling sign of the fear he tried so desperately to conceal. 

My heart ached, knowing that beneath the armor, he was still the man I loved, burdened by the weight of a crown he had never truly desired.

"Aegon, do not take Sunfyre," I implored, reaching out to touch his arm gently. He dismissed me with a wave of his hand, his focus solely on the task before him.

"I need to show these people that I am just as important," he declared, frustration lacing his voice as he headed toward the dragonpit, where the weight of expectations loomed large.

"You are important, Aegon. You are the king," I pleaded, my voice catching with emotion. 

I tried to reach him, to make him see reason amidst the storm of ambition and pride that swirled around us. He paused, exhaling heavily, and turned to face me, his eyes a turbulent mix of frustration and affection.

"You, my dear wife, are the only one who believes in me," he said softly, though there was a bitter edge to his voice, as if he was unsure whether to trust even that. 

His hands trembled slightly as he cupped my face, and I knew that beneath his bravado, he feared the truth of his own inadequacy.

"Then let me accompany you," I insisted, stepping closer. I could feel the weight of his resolve, the struggle within him as he balanced the demands of leadership with his doubts and fears.

"No," he replied firmly, leaving no room for argument. His gaze held mine, a deep concern for my safety evident in his eyes.

Refusing to relent, I grabbed his arm, my grip firm and unwavering. "Let me come with you, or I will follow after you have left," I warned, my voice steady despite the fear churning in my stomach.

He sighed deeply, exasperation clear as he weighed my words. "Very well," he finally conceded, a reluctant acceptance of my insistence.

Urgency surged through me as I tugged on his arm, leading him toward our chambers. I couldn't risk him slipping away, leaving me behind to face the storm alone.

"I need assistance with my armor," I said, my voice steady but laced with the fear that if I didn't keep him close, he might leave without me. He groaned but didn't resist, following my lead.

"Do not think I will allow you to distract me," he cautioned, half-serious, half-teasing. Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound tinged with nerves and affection.

"I wouldn't dare, my king," I teased gently, letting the laces of my dress slip through my fingers, the garment pooling at my feet in the corridor.

"Seven hells," he gasped, glancing around quickly to ensure we were alone before ushering me into our chambers. 

His concern for my privacy was endearing, a reminder of the intimacy we shared amidst the grandeur and chaos of our royal duties.

As promised, I did not seduce Aegon. Instead, I swiftly donned my armor. Each piece clicked into place, transforming me from a wife into a warrior. 

Aegon moved beside me, his armor gleaming in the dim light, and together we made our way to the dragonpit, the air thick with anticipation.

"Gevie," I greeted Silverwing as she approached, her silvery scales shimmering in the light. She responded with a gentle nuzzle, her warm breath a comfort against my cheek. Beautiful

I smiled warmly, feeling an overwhelming surge of pride and love as I watched Sunfyre affectionately nuzzle Aegon.

"To battle, then," I declared, mounting Silverwing with ease. Her powerful muscles tensed beneath me, coiling like a spring ready to unleash her strength. 

As we took to the skies, the world below shrank away, and the wind whipped past us like a roaring river. Our dragons' wings beat in rhythmic harmony, filling me with confidence. 

I glanced over at Aegon, who sat tall on Sunfyre, his expression a mix of fierce determination and underlying concern.

The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood as we soared forward. Below us, the ground was a patchwork of scorched earth and trampled bodies, the cries of the dying rising like a mournful dirge. 

The metallic taste of fear lingered on my tongue, mingling with the salty tang of sweat.

Arriving at Rook's Rest, Criston's army spread out below us, their formations scattering like startled ants at the sight of our dragons. 

The battlefield stretched before us, a chaotic tableau of swirling dust, fluttering banners, and the pungent scent of fear thick in the air. 

Rhaenys arrived with Meleys, her crimson dragon, and the three dragons, Meleys, Silverwing, and Sunfyre plunged into a fierce battle. Silverwing and Sunfyre's combined strength initially tilted the conflict in our favor, our dragons dancing through the skies with lethal grace, raining fire down on the enemy.

The dragons roared in unison, their attacks meticulously coordinated, each swipe of their claws and burst of fire adding to the chaos and destruction. 

The situation abruptly changed. From the distant horizon emerged Vhagar, a colossal shadow eclipsing the sun as she thundered into the fray. Aemond rode atop her, his visage a mask of relentless determination.

The sky darkened as Vhagar unleashed a torrent of blistering fire aimed directly at Sunfyre. 

Caught off guard, the golden dragon shrieked in agony as the flames engulfed him, his once-majestic wings now crumbling under the searing heat. Sunfyre began a devastating descent toward the earth, Aegon desperately clinging to his back.

The sight of Sunfyre's fall ignited a primal surge of rage within me. My eyes locked on Aemond, who had caused this devastation. 

"You treacherous bastard!" I shouted, my voice carrying across the battlefield, fueled by fear and fury for my husband's safety.

"Lykirī," I shouted as Silverwing quivered under the onslaught of Vhagar's assault. Calm.

"Sōvēs, Silverwing. Dohaerās," I continued, attempting to soothe her. Fly, Silverwing. Serve,

My attention quickly turned back to Aegon and Sunfyre as I saw them plummeting toward the ground. Abandoning thoughts of Aemond and Rhaenys, I directed Silverwing toward their crash site.

"Naejot! Paerī, paerī." I directed as Silverwing landed amidst the flames, the heat intense and suffocating. Forward! Slow, slow.

Sunfyre lay writhing in pain, his once-golden scales now charred and blackened. His agonized cries pierced the chaos around us, a heartbreaking lament for his own suffering and the loss of his strength.

Sunfyre, once a symbol of Aegon's pride, now mirrored the shattered confidence of the man who had ridden him. Silverwing's steady presence at my side was a reminder of the strength I had to summon, even as the world crumbled around us.

My heart hammered in my chest as I spotted Aegon's battered form beside him. Despite his injuries, he was alive. Relief surged through me, mingling with a potent cocktail of fear and despair. 

Sunfyre had shielded him from the worst of the fall, his tail sacrificing itself to cushion his impact, a testament to the bond between dragon and rider that transcended mere loyalty.

"Aegon!" I cried out, my voice raw with emotion as I dropped to my knees beside him. His eyelids fluttered, a faint glimmer of recognition in his pain-filled eyes. 

Gently, I cradled his head in my lap, my trembling fingers brushing away blood-matted hair from his face. Tears streamed down my cheeks unchecked.

"You're alive," I whispered, the words a prayer of gratitude to whatever gods might be listening.

"Are you alright?" Aegon managed to ask, his voice strained and weak. Despite his own precarious state, he was concerned for me.

"I'm alright," I replied, my voice catching as I tried to reassure him. My fingers traced the contours of his face, committing every detail to memory in case this was our last moment together.

As I cradled Aegon's head, memories of our early days together flooded my mind—the way he would pull me close in the dead of night, seeking comfort in my presence, the rare moments when he allowed his guard to fall. 

Now, as I stared into his pain-filled eyes, I wondered if this would be the last time I'd see the man I loved, the man who had always feared he would be remembered not for his triumphs, but for his failures.

A weary smile tugged at his lips, offering me a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos.

The sound of approaching footsteps shattered the tense silence that enveloped us. My heart raced, each beat hammering in my chest like a war drum. 

I turned, my eyes locking with Aemond, and the rush of adrenaline that fueled my fear morphed into a tempest of anger and betrayal. He stood before me, his presence igniting a fire within me, a volatile mix of fury, fear, and frustration.

"How could you let this happen?" I screamed, my voice raw with accusation, fists striking out at him with each word. "He's your brother!"

"You traitorous bastard! You did this!" I lashed out, every syllable laced with venom. 

Aemond didn't flinch, his expression unreadable as he seized my arms, his grip firm and pushing me away. His calm demeanor in the face of my rage only fueled the inferno burning within me.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice cracking with desperation as I staggered back, watching him unsheathe his sword. My eyes widened in terror, silently pleading with him to stop, to explain himself.

"Aemond, why?" I implored, reaching out instinctively to touch his arm, hoping to anchor him in the reality of the moment. "Please, tell me."

He met my gaze, a storm of confusion and conflict swirling in his eye. "Because I love you," Aemond confessed softly, his voice weighed down by years of unspoken longing and regret.

I sighed deeply, shaking my head in disbelief and sorrow. "Aemond, you do not love me," I countered firmly, steadying my voice despite the turmoil raging inside me.

He froze, his gaze locked on mine, the gravity of my words hanging heavily between us.

"You don't understand," he insisted, his tone pleading. "I've loved you for years, watching from the shadows as you and Aegon grew closer. Aegon has everything, your love, the throne but he doesn't deserve it. He never has, and he never will."

I recoiled from his words, struggling to reconcile this bitter confession with the man I thought I knew, dutiful, loyal, always lingering on the edges of our lives. 

"This isn't how you express love, Aemond," I said softly, my voice tinged with sorrow.

He took a step closer, his hand trembling as he reached out toward me. 

"I know I've made mistakes," he continued, his voice breaking with emotion. "But I can't stand by and watch him waste what he has, what I've always wanted."

My heart ached for him, for the years of unrequited love and the tangled web of emotions that had led us to this moment. "Aemond, I..." I began, unsure of how to navigate the dangerous waters of his revelation.

"Let me do us both a favor," he interrupted suddenly, raising his sword with a grim resolve. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook my head in denial, the enormity of the situation crashing down upon me.

Before I could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile moment.

Aemond's gaze flickered to the newcomer, and for a brief, fleeting instant, uncertainty clouded his features.

Criston's eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—the wounded Aegon lying on the ground, Aemond standing over him with a raised sword, and me, tearful and caught in the maelstrom of their conflict.

Aemond hesitated, his resolve faltering as he lowered his weapon and took a step back.

"Aemond?" Criston's voice cut through the tension, laced with concern and confusion, but Aemond remained silent, his gaze averted, unable to face the consequences of his actions.

"Help me," I pleaded, my voice trembling as Criston turned to me, urgency and determination in his eyes.

Aemond looked between Criston and me, and then, with a sudden, decisive movement, he turned away, his choice made.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"Will he live?" Alicent's voice sliced through the tension, sharp and desperate.

Her question sent another wave of emotions crashing over me. I glanced at her, her face etched with worry and fear, then back at Aegon. He lay so fragile, wrapped in bandages and the remnants of his pain, his breath shallow and uneven.

Staring at the love of my life in such a vulnerable state, I felt a surge of helplessness. Memories of happier times flooded my mind, and the thought of losing him now was unbearable.

Aegon slowly stirred, his eyelids fluttering open as he began to take in his surroundings. The muted sounds of the room, whispers of the maesters, the soft rustle of movement filled his senses, but he remained silent, his gaze unfocused.

I knelt beside him, holding my breath, searching his eyes for any sign of recognition.

For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, as if trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. The weight of silence hung heavy in the air, and I could feel the tension tightening around us.

I reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, hoping for some connection, some acknowledgment that he was truly with me.

Aegon's gaze shifted to the side, his expression unreadable. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask how he felt, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I sat there, waiting, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope.

Minutes passed, each one stretching painfully long. Alicent stood beside me, her hand gripping the edge of the bed, her knuckles white.

Finally, just as I feared he might never break the silence, Aegon turned his head slightly toward me. His voice, hoarse and strained, broke through the stillness with a single, unexpected command.

"Find me Aemond Targaryen."

A/n - Another favourite of mine!

[zorosdimples]

꒰ ITADORI YUUJI X READER ꒱

minors do not interact—i will block you! cw: gn!reader, rimming (yuuji receiving), male masturbation. note: i have no excuse for this…

“F-fuck,” Yuuji gasps, back bowing off of your shared bed. He strokes himself feverishly, the sticky clicks of his arousal and the loud slurps that tumble from your mouth echoing in the room. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

You pause your ministrations, a thread of iridescent spit connecting your tongue to your boyfriend’s wet, fluttering hole. When you pull away, the string snaps. You shift to lay your head against his muscular thigh, mischievously rubbing the strip of flesh that rests beneath his sack; he shivers.

“You say that like you don’t want to finish.” A mock-pout graces your slick lips while your hand dances up to his balls, fondling the hot, velvety skin.

“Shit.”

He sucks his teeth. His fist slows as it reaches the base of his thick cock, foreskin pulled back, a fresh bead of pre pearling at his flushed tip. You sit up and lean forward to lap at it, dipping your tongue into his slit. A clammy palm catches your cheek as you taste his desire—rich and tangy; he nibbles his lip and smooths a calloused thumb up your cheekbone.

“Keep going—please.”

You reposition yourself between Yuuji’s strong legs. Slowly, you spread him apart—breath kissing his puckered rim—watching it twitch in anticipation. “Ask me again,” you murmur. His frustrated groan earns him an airy chuckle.

You’re a fucking tease, after all.

The man above you could easily overpower you; he could drag you by the hair and slot your panting mouth right where he wants it, using you to get off.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he yields to you. You may not give him what he wants, but you always give him what he needs.

“Baby please,” he whines, voice ragged with desperation. He looks down at you with heavy lids, his gaze molten amber—liquid gold. Dew shimmers at his temples and mats his blush hairline, and a sliver of pink darts out to dampen his lips. “Needa come so, so bad.”

Yuuji barely gets the words out before you finally swirl your tongue around his hole then slip the muscle inside, allowing him to roll his hips and gently buck against your mouth. Each time his ass makes contact with your face, you both moan, and it’s only a matter of moments before he finishes across his spasming abdomen with a cry.

Boneless, your lover nudges you away with his knees, then pulls you on top of himself, chest damp with sweat and heaving against your own.

“Yuu!” you shriek as his tacky spend oozes between your bodies and smears across your belly. He playfully squeezes your hips, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“All you should worry about is how ’m gonna return the favor,” he mumbles into your skin. Before you can reply, he flips you over onto your back—showing you that a little mess is the least of your concerns.

[urfavleo777]

WARNINGS: smoking, closeness, kisses, bad vocabulary, fluff.

you find comfort in colby after breaking up with your boyfriend.

"I don't remember the last time I saw you like this, kiddo."

You flinched, not from the wind, but from the hoarse voice of your friend Colby, who was standing behind you. Standing on the balcony in just a T-shirt and jeans would give you a cold, but at that moment, that was your last concern. Before you turned around, you sniffled, trying to disguise the fact that you had just shed a sea of ​​tears.

He gently placed his free hand around the lighter, trying to shield it from the wind. A faint smile covered your lips as you watched him concentrate on it.

"When will you finally quit smoking, Colby?" you whispered, choking on your tears.

"I don't know, you tell me" he sighed out the smoke from his mouth as well and looked at you, arching his eyebrow.

"I still think you should quit." You said softly, turning your head towards Colby who, standing next to you, was leaning back against the railing. He looked down at the night skyline of the city. Such sights were not uncommon for him since he became so popular. He probably spent the night in places you never even dreamed of. You had been friends for seven years, but you never let him take you with them. Maybe it was because your ex-boyfriend, who just two hours ago was the love of your life, was seething with jealousy whenever you spent time in Colby's presence.

"What will you give me if I do?"

He took another long drag from his cigarette before exhaling into the crisp air. You watched the smoke disintegrate into the air as he placed his cigarette back between his finger. Not hearing your answer, his lips curled up into a smirk before he spoke.

"You want to try, don't you?" he asked making you nod slowly.

You've always been against any kind of stimulants, but that day you had to relieve yourself somehow. Cigarettes turned out to be the perfect solution.

He turned his body towards you before wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath hitched and his cold bare chest rested against yours. His cigarette was held in his left hand and your body in his right. He looked down at you before explaining what to do.

"Just inhale, hold it for a second then let it go" he said making you nod again.

Your fingers lifted up and reached for the cigarette before you realized that he was bringing it to his mouth instead of yours. Okay, maybe he was showing you what to do. He took a smaller drag from the cigarette than his past before lowering the cigarette down. Before you could even reach to grab it, his lips pressed into yours.

You gasped at his kiss, making him breath all the smoke into your mouth and have it go down to you lungs. He pulled back a little to watch as you kept your mouth closed tightly. The smoke had filled your entire chest and was beginning to make you suffocate.

"Y/n, exhale" he said.

You opened your mouth and let all the smoke escape from your lungs. He smirked and closed his eyes as all the smoke had been hitting his face. You began coughing as the smoke was caught up in your lungs. His hand patted your back before you finally gained control of your breathing.

"Did you like it?" he asked with a smile playing on his lips.

"Never doing this again." You said making him laugh out into the air.

His hands tighten around your back and he brought your forehead to his lips to give you a small peck. You gasped slightly making him pull back and realize what he was doing. His hand un-wrapped itself around your waist as his cheeks were tinted red.

"Glad you two broke up. I've always had an urge to punch him in his fucking face."

It seemed he decided not to mince his words.

You rubbed your eyes with your hands, realizing that your makeup was probably smudged. You shuddered once again as you felt the wind on your skin. Colby noticed this, pulling you closer to him. He lowered his voice, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"I'm sorry, baby. He clearly wasn't good for you."

You thought you were about to fall asleep standing up. His touch soothed you, making all your worries go away. You wanted to stay like this forever, in his arms, on the balcony, with the accompaniment of passing cars and the full moon in the sky.

You've been blind all this time. You were looking for happiness and entertainment in pathetic men, not knowing that you didn't have to look at all, because the perfect one was literally at your fingertips.

And his name was Colby Brock.

[theres-a-body-here]

Imagine: A Minotaur boyfriend who comforts you after a bad day at work

Based on this post

Work was brutal, especially during the holidays. It didn't help that everyone seemed to be in a bad mood. Your co-workers were exhausted and the costumers seemed to have short fuses.

Once you got home, you dropped your stuff, slumped into the couch, and began to cry.

As you held your face in your hands, trying to contain the tears shedding from your eyes, you heard and felt the heavy footsteps of your Minotaur boyfriend approaching towards you. You didn't realize he was home.

His deep and gentle voice resonates within the room, asking with concern, "Baby, what's wrong?" Suddenly, a massive yet surprisingly tender hand grips your shoulder. You felt the cushion dip as he sat down next to you, sliding you closer to him.

Your voice cracks as you lift your heads out of your hands. "Work was so..." you try to explain the situation but get interrupted by the sheer closeness of your boyfriend. Inches apart, his warm breath tickles your face, and those fluffy ears of his twitch ever so slightly, displaying an expression of genuine concern.

You kinda just blank out for a moment.

Gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, your mind comes back to reality, allowing you to pour out your heartache about the terrible day you experienced. "My day started off really good, but then it went south fast," you say, the pain still evident in your voice.

Recalling every detail, from the irritating customers to the lack of support from colleagues, your boyfriend remains attentive throughout, nodding occasionally to show understanding.

Once the last word leaves your lips, your boyfriend wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.

Without any warning, your boyfriend scoops you up into his arms, carrying you swiftly towards the bedroom. Startled by the sudden action, you release a tiny gasp which is met with his deep, reassuring laughter.

"Wait, I need to cook dinner!" you attempt to resist, but his affectionate peck on your cheek silences your concerns. "Don't worry, babe, I'll order us some takeout instead," he promises, his cool, moist nose pressing against your skin.

Carrying you into your shared bedroom, he places you carefully beneath the sheets before joining you in bed. Enveloping you within his furry arms, he whispers in his deep voice, "You deserve a nice cuddling session after today."

Snuggling deeper into his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his body, you hear him snort playfully before his rough tongue grazes across the crown of your head.

"Thank you," you whisper. "I love you."

"Anything for you, babe," he replies tenderly, squeezing you a bit tighter. "And I love you too."

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝙀𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙬

synopsis: after being away and entertaining others, your husband decides to give you a special something

wrd cnt: 1.1k

tags: cunnalingus, oral, penetration, doggy, vulgar, praise, explicit

a/n: if you couldn’t tell been having major writers block + no time to write but this one reeled me back in a bit so i hope you enjoy <3

It was late at night by the time you got home. The house had been quiet all evening, save for the soft hum of your laptop as you explored some new music. But now that the sun had set, there were no more distractions—just the sound of your own breathing, the whirring blade of the fan above your head, and the occasional creak of floorboards beneath your feet.

You heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps coming down the hallway towards the living room where you sat on the couch. Your eyes widened when you saw who it was.

“Sunday!” You exclaimed, jumping up and running over to him. He looked incredible, even if he was clearly exhausted from working all day. His face was flushed red with desire, and his black suit pants hung lower on his hips than usual, as his belt was quite undone just as his tie.

“Y/n-,” he said, leaning down to kiss you deeply before pulling away. “I missed you…quite dearly”

You replied breathlessly in agreeance, taking his hand and leading him over to sit beside you on the couch. As soon as he sat down, he pulled you into his lap and started kissing your neck hungrily.

“Mmm... I love how good you tastes,” he murmured against your skin as he moved lower down your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples until they hardened under his touch.

To say you were surprised was an understatement, your husband was always quite well mannered, and in control especially of himself.

Before you could express this pleasant concern, be continued further down, pushing your body down and stopping his peppering of kisses just above your waistband.

“Please don’t stop...” You begged softly. “Keep going...”

He chuckled darkly as he pulled your bottoms down, revealing your pretty laced panties.

“Such a naughty girl,” he whispered seductively. “you know happens when you tease me like that, don’t you?”

With those words still ringing in your ears, he slid his hands around to the front of your panties and began teasing them apart until they fell down around your ankles; now placed on each of his shoulders.

His soft hands spread your legs wide apart and leaned forward to lick along the length of your slit.

“Ohh... yes... keep doing that...” You moaned, feeling yourself growing wetter than ever before.

“Mmmm... such a tasty little thing,” he purred, moving one finger inside you while continuing to lap at your clit with his tongue. “Feels good hm? You’re dripping…” He smirked, slipping a second finger inside you, curling them up and down faster this time. “How does that feel baby?” He asked, before returning to suck your swollen pearl.

“So good... oh god... more-...” You panted, arching your back slightly to allow him better access to you.

“Like this?” He whispered, increasing the speed of his movements until he felt you begin to tremble against him.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!-” You cried out loudly, throwing your head back against the couch cushions as pleasure washed through every part of your body.

As if sensing your impending climax, he suddenly stopped moving his fingers altogether and instead focused solely on licking and sucking at your clit. With waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body, you squirmed uncontrollably.

“Oh my god... yes... right there...” You gasped, grinding yourself against him as best you could while trying not to fall off the couch entirely.

“Mmmmm... I knew you liked this,” he chuckled wickedly, pushing you down onto the couch once again. “Now let me show you something else.”

With those words still echoing in your mind, he stood up and placed a knee inbetween your legs, slowly pushing into you as he got close to you. Grabbing your hand, he gave you hold of his erection, stroking himself with your hand slowly up and down several times before letting you do it yourself.

“What do you think of that?” He asked teasingly. “See what you do to me?”

“Mhm….,” you answered quietly with a small nod, feeling yourself grow hungrier than ever before.

As if he couldn’t waste another second, he dragged you up and pushed your body against the couch, feeling his chest heavy against your back as your breasts pressed up against the fabric of the apolstry.

“Fuck I missed you-“ He says, slowly dragging his cock up and down your folds as you hear his shaky breath.

“Sunday- please…” You mewl, pushing yourself back into him.

“Use your words, my love.” He breathes against your ear.

You groan in annoyance at his teasing.

He chuckles, and then thrusts his thick cock into your tight, wet heat.

It was like a drug, every movement of his hips, every touch of his hand, every inch of his skin against yours was ecstacy.

After a few moments, his pace becomes steady, and soon enough his hips are snapping furiously against yours.

You moan and writhe beneath him, clawing desperately at the sofa beneath you.

He lets out a deep growl and slams his hands down on either side of your head.

His grip tightens as he pounds into you harder and harder, causing your body to shake uncontrollably.

The friction of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy combined with the roughness of his thrusts and the force of his hands against your body, made you see stars.

Your mouth hangs open and your eyes roll back, as you arch your back and thrust your hips upwards, meeting his thrusts eagerly.

Your fingers dig into his biceps, gripping onto him tightly.

With each passing second, you could feel your orgasm building within you, threatening to tear through you any moment now.

You knew that this wasn't going to last much longer.

"Fuck- I'm so close…," you cry out, throwing your head back.

His hand reaches up and grabs your throat, squeezing tightly, and pulling you closer to him.

His thrusts grow even more powerful, and you gasp as he slams his cock deep inside you.

"Come for me then, my darling," he purrs into your ear, his voice low and husky.

He releases his grip on your neck and moves his hand down to grip your ass firmly.

You whimper and writhe beneath him, unable to hold back any longer.

"Fuck-!" You scream, throwing your head back once more and letting the orgasm rip through you.

His cock slides in and out of you faster and faster, as his movements become more erratic.

His fingers dig into your ass as he pulls you even closer, thrusting into you one final time before he explodes inside you.

His hips slow their frantic rhythm as he groans and grunts into your ear, his seed filling you up completely; leaving you tilted over the cushions and wrecked.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[dollfacefantasy]

thinking about being with logan howlett again. the two of you are on a mission with the team.

the group of you were down in the basement of an abandoned factory, shutting down some meeting about a weapon that meant to do your fellow mutants harm. storm and jean were down in the cellar looking at plans. scott had just been with you and logan in the boiler room but left moments ago to see if the pair had found anything.

unfortunately for you and your boyfriend, that was when some enemies decided to show up.

you make quick work of the guys coming after you while logan deals with his own set. just as you’re done and catching your breath, you hear a loud bang.

your head zips in that direction to see logan’s claws had speared through some sort of water pipe in the process of handling his opponent. a strong burst of fluid erupts from the metallic cylinder. you hear him yell, probably from the temperature, and see him topple over.

a quick gasp comes from you, but you regain your composure and use your mutation to ice over the fracture in the structure, stopping the flow of water.

“baby, are you ok?” you ask hurriedly. it was a pointless question. of course he was fine. even if the water was scalding, he’d be healed in a couple seconds. but you still didn’t like seeing your lover in any pain, so you ask anyways.

“yeah, fine,” he grumbles and wipes some water from his face. he shakes like a wet dog and then turns to you.

the concern on your face is fast replaced by amusement. giggles bubble up and out of your lips. you try to suppress your smile by covering your mouth, but it doesn’t do much good.

“what? what’s so funny?” he asks. but then he realizes.

his hair which normally stood in two proud points was now slumped onto his head. instead of the fierce wolverine, he looked more like a soggy cat.

“oh give me a break,” he says and rolls his eyes. but his hands still rise and try to mold the mop back into its usual style.

more laughter comes from you. “it doesn’t look bad…” you tease, “you look pretty cute. like a little kitten left out in the rain.”

he’s not amused with your jokes or your increasing laughter. “shut up.”

“alright, alright. don’t start hissing at me,” you laugh.

the flat look on his face doesn’t waiver. he gives up on shaping his hair and lets the tendrils just flop down under the weight of the water. you prance over and give him a little kiss as an apology.

“i’m sorry for laughing… but also, don’t move cause scott is gonna wanna see this."

[sunny44]

Anxiety

Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader

Warning: panic attack, anxiety, English is not my first language and maybe more…

Summary: Lando has a panic attack because of the pressure of racing at home and Y/n helps him to calm down and show him that he’s good enough.

On the eve of the British Grand Prix, Lando was struggling with the pressure.

I stood outside Lando’s hotel room, my heart heavy with concern. The British Grand Prix always brought a special kind of pressure for him, performing in front of his home crowd, and I knew this race was weighing heavily on him. The door was slightly open since I was outside making a call, and I pushed it open gently, my eyes immediately finding Lando sitting by the window, a shadow of his usual self.

His eyes were distant, his body tense. I could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands gripped the armrests of the chair. Lando was lost in his thoughts, drowning in a sea of self-doubt and anxiety.

"Lando," I called softly, hoping to anchor him back to the present. There was no response. I moved closer, my concern growing with every step. When I reached him, I knelt down and placed a hand on his arm. He flinched, his eyes wide and filled with tears.

"Lando, it's me." I said, my voice steady but filled with worry. "Talk to me."

He tried to speak, but his voice failed him. Instead, a choked sob escaped his lips, and he buried his face in his hands. My heart ached for him. I had seen him face many challenges, but nothing pained me more than seeing him in this state.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. His body trembled against mine, and I could feel his ragged breaths on my neck. "It's okay," I whispered, my hand gently stroking his hair. "I'm here, Lando. You're not alone."

For what felt like an eternity, we stayed like that. I could feel the intensity of his anxiety attack, the way his muscles were taut with stress, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. I held him tighter, whispering soothing words, trying to ease the storm raging inside him.

Gradually, his breathing began to slow, and the tension in his body started to ebb away. I pulled back slightly, cupping his face in my hands. "Look at me, Lando," I said softly. His eyes met mine, and I saw the pain and fear that had consumed him.

"You are an incredible driver, but more importantly, you are an incredible person." I said, my voice firm and filled with love. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone. I love you for who you are, not for what you achieve on the track."

He shook his head, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "But what if I fail? What if I'm not good enough?"

"You are more than enough," I replied, my tone unwavering. "Success isn't measured just by wins or podiums. It's about passion, dedication, and being true to yourself. You've already achieved so much, and I'm so proud of you. But even if you never win another race, I'll still love you just as much."

My words seemed to pierce through the fog of his anxiety, bringing a clarity that he desperately needed. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight on his chest start to lift. "Thank you, babe." he whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out." I replied with a smile, kissing his forehead. "We'll face everything together, one step at a time."

“Okay.” He smiled a bit and I kissed him.

“I’ll grab you some water.” As I was getting up, Lando hugged me tighter.

“Can we just stay like this a little bit more?” His voice was low.

“We can stay like this as long as you want.” He didn’t said anything but just by the way he started to play with my fingers I knew that he needed more time like this.

We stayed there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world outside the hotel room fading into irrelevance. The tension that had gripped Lando slowly gave way to a fragile calm. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own.

Eventually, I felt him relax, the tightness in his muscles easing. I knew he was finding his center again, the overwhelming pressure starting to dissipate. I gently ran my fingers through his hair, a comforting motion that I knew helped him relax.

"Lando," I whispered softly, "I believe in you. Not just as a driver, but as the amazing person you are. Tomorrow, when you get on that track, remember that it's not about proving anything to anyone. It's about doing what you love and enjoying every moment of it."

He nodded slowly, his eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "You're right. I need to focus on the joy of racing, not just the results."

"Exactly," I said, smiling. "And no matter what happens, I'll be here, cheering you on, proud of you every step of the way."

He sighed, a sound of release and acceptance. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he repeated, his voice steadier now.

"You'll never have to find out," I replied, a playful glint in my eyes. "Besides, I still need to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get into too much trouble."

He chuckled, the sound a welcome relief from the earlier tension. "I'll try to behave," he said, a hint of his usual mischief returning.

We stayed like that for a while longer, wrapped in each other's presence, finding strength and comfort in our love. Eventually, I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Are you ready to get some rest now?" I asked gently.

He nodded, his expression more at ease. "Yeah, I think I am. Thanks to you."

“How does a bath sound?” I asked him.

“Sounds very good.”

“I’ll prepare one for you and then we can get some rest.”

“Thank you.” He said and I went to the bathroom and prepared the bath.

I helped him get up, guiding him to the bathroom, I helped him get out of his clothes and the he get in the bathtub.

“Is I warm enough?”

“It’s perfect, just like you.” He said and I smiled at him. “Wanna join me?”

“I’ll love to.”

After some time in the tub we got out, got dressed in our pijamas and went straight to bed. He lay down, and I pulled the covers over him, and I laid on the other side and I think for the first time ever he was the little spoon.

“Wow, this is good.” He said getting cozier.

“What is good?”

“Being the little spoon.”

“I’ve told you many times but you never believed me.”

“Yeah, but usually I’m the one that protects you and not the other way around.” He said with his voice very low.

“I know baby, but sometimes you need to be the one that should be protected.” He didn’t said anything. “I'll stay awake until you fall asleep."

Lando reached out, taking my hand in his.

"I don't deserve you." he said softly.

"You deserve all the love and support in the world." I replied firmly. "And I'm here to give you just that."

He smiled, a genuine smile this time, and closed his eyes. I stayed behind him, holding his hand, watching as his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.

As I stay there, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pride and love for him. Lando was an extraordinary person, and I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, stronger than ever.

When I was sure he was asleep, I quietly moved and turned off the lights, leaving a small night light on. I kissed his forehead one last time. I held his hand and closed my eyes to get some sleep before the next day.

Tomorrow would be a new day, a new race, but tonight was about love and support, and in that, we had already won.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Luv u baby” tagged: @landonorris

[purinjoong]

take off your halo and wings (j.yh)

summary: yunho can't keep his hands off his angel, especially when he stumbles on one of your less than angelic desires.

jeong yunho x reader :: established relationship, smut, fluff, pervert!yunho, soft and slight mean dom yunho, fem bodied reader (gender not specified)

warnings below the cut!

praise, dacryphilia, marking, slight size kink, fingering, unprotected sex (!!!), dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, love, puppy)

notes: sadly not proofread im too impatient .. </3 approx 4.9k words!

Yunho swears he would never do anything you’re not ready for, and he doesn’t have any ulterior motives as he snuggles deeper into your embrace on the couch, the colors dancing on the TV flickering across your face. He likes this show, he really does— he was the one who asked to watch it with you— but with the way your head is nuzzled just under his chin and your body is pressed comfortably against his, he has front-row tickets to the tantalizing scent of your hair products and the dizzying warmth of your skin under his palms and against his thighs. 

Every breath he takes thrusts him further into his thoughts, heart thumping against his chest so hard he’s afraid it’ll start jostling you with its movement if it beats any faster. He’s overwhelmed by the need to smooth his palms against the sweet curve of your hips, to kiss you until you’re gasping for air, your clenched fists cutely twisting at the fabric of his loose shirt as he drops his head to your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

He’s staring blankly ahead, lost in thoughts of you when you let out a cute squeak at something happening in the show. At the noise, his gaze flits down to where your bodies are tangled together, breath hitching as you shuffle around in his hold to get more comfortable. Your thighs are sandwiching one of his arms now, and he’s genuinely holding his breath trying not to whimper from how desperately he needs to have his mouth between your thighs instead, your fingers weaved into his hair as he licks and sucks at you. 

You seem to have noticed something is off, since you tear your eyes away from the screen to fix him with an angelic look of concern, pretty eyes wide and sparkly as you ask him if he’s feeling alright. Fuck, he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but he responds with a mumbled noise of confusion because he genuinely can’t focus on anything other than the way your lips curve around every vowel you utter and how badly he needs your lips moving against his own.

Your arm (the one that isn’t wrapped around his back) comes up to brush some of his hair out of his face, and it’s just a soft, gentle touch, but he can’t stop the shuddered breath that escapes his chest. He’s so thankful the back of your hand covers the sinful way his eyes threaten to roll back into his head from the mere brush of your fingers against his forehead. 

“You’re warm, baby,” you say worriedly, flipping the hand resting against his forehead so that your palm is pressed against it instead. 

“‘M fine,” he replies, inwardly pumping his fist at how normal he sounds in spite of the desire thrumming through his veins. “Let’s keep watching,” 

You give him a look, eyebrows cutely knitting together in disapproval, but you bring your hand away from his forehead and go back to resting your cheek against his chest to comfortably face the TV. 

The measured rise and fall of your body as it lays against his lulls him further into his daze. He tries to tug his arm away from the back of the couch so he can stroke your hair, but his limbs move like he’s trying to swim through a pool of syrup.

It doesn’t help that he’s so acutely aware of how close his other arm is to your core— the bare skin of your thighs are so soft and warm where they’re sandwiched around his forearm, and if you shift any closer he’ll literally be pressed right against the seat of your cute pajama shorts, applying sweet pressure that he knows would have you struggling to stifle a moan.

He feels like a pervert, he is a pervert, with the way he cartoonishly gulps at the slightest movement of the neckline of the shirt you’re borrowing from him. With the way it’s driving him insane right now, he can’t decide whether he wants you wearing it forever or if he should put all his clothes into a suitcase and throw it out into the ocean before he short circuits from how much he loves you and how seeing you in his clothes stokes the flames of the possessive little fire blazing in his heart, burning bright for you. It makes him want to growl mine, into every part of your body he can get his hands on, pressing a soft kiss and a sharp bite anywhere you’ll let him until you’re a collage of marks proving his adoration for you. 

Yunho’s fingers have been absentmindedly stroking your hair for a while now, and as his thoughts grow more possessive, his strokes have turned into delicious little tugs that feel just right, leading you to bite at your bottom lip and tense your thighs to prevent them from closing tighter around his arm. A particularly insistent tug at your hair from his long fingers draws a pathetic whine from your throat, a needy and wanton plea that causes both of you to freeze. 

You shut your eyes tightly, bashful— you’re just cuddling, for fuck’s sake, but as you’re smoldering with embarrassment, Yunho is fighting the urge to flip you onto your back and kiss the shit out of you. To draw more pretty sounds out of his favorite person until you’re begging him to stop, it’s too much, you can’t take it, but you both know you can and you love that he’ll make you take it. 

He opts for being more casual, so as not to scare you with the overwhelming wave of affection that washes over him from his forehead— where your hand was resting earlier— down to the tips of his toes, and tugs at your hair again. He manages to draw another sound out of you, a muffled little whimper (because you’ve doubled down on the force you’re biting your lip with), but it sends his heart reeling nonetheless. 

“What’s this, baby?” he breathes against your ear, and you shudder at his close proximity. 

“Nothing,” is your petulant response, and you both know it’s a lie with how your thighs shift around his arm. 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Yunho says with a soft chuckle, the slight rasp to his voice shooting a bolt of arousal straight to your core. “It sounds like my angel has a dirty little secret to spill,” 

You open your mouth to protest, but he chooses that moment to apply just the right amount of pressure with his nails against your scalp and pulls. With your lips now accessible, a debauched moan floats free from your chest, and it's Yunho’s turn to feel a jolt of arousal shock his body. He wants nothing more than to take you, play you like a delicate instrument that sings a sweet melody just for him, but he sets his feelings aside because he decides he wants to hear you beg first. 

Everything about you is cute, and Yunho can go on for hours given the chance, but there’s something so delectable about seeing you soft and flustered in his arms, everything from your supple cheeks to your shy gaze just begging him to keep teasing you until you melt into his embrace like a marshmallow over an open flame. 

You won’t meet his eyes, not after the tempting way you keened into the pull of his fingers, and it drives him crazy. You’re embarrassed, but you don’t even have a clue how worked up everything you do makes him. It’s delightful, and it’s infuriating, but more than anything, it conjures that perverted, possessive beast in him that belongs to you, just like the rest of him. 

“Why are you so shy, baby?” he whispers. “Tell me how to make you feel good, and it’s yours,” Your gaze flickers to his bow-shaped lips, but it’s still shy, measured, like you’re afraid another whine will pierce the air if you let up on how harshly you’re biting your lip. 

There’s something so lewd about the way he unabashedly growls dirty words into your ears when you fuck, with his soft cheeks, sparkly eyes, and cute lips. It’s worse when his fluffy hair is half-covering his eyes, because he looks so cozy as he’s pounding into you so perfectly you can’t even form a train of thought. At the same time, whenever his pretty fingers roughly push his hair away from his face so he can fix you with a dark, predatory look as he hits that spot inside of you, you unravel for him without fail. 

There’s a method to the madness that is Yunho piecing you apart and molding you back together just to ruin you again. When you don’t respond, bashful gaze still trained on his lips, he coos. “All you have to do is tell me, baby, I’ll give it to you so good,” he coaxes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, but the way your voice trembles gives you away, and his lip curls up in triumph. 

He hums in response, cocky smirk still quirking his lip as he toys with a lock of your hair. “No?” he asks. “So if I took off these flimsy shorts of yours, you wouldn’t be dripping through your panties?” 

Suddenly, you’re aware of the way your thighs have been clenching around his forearm, and how you’re trapped between his sturdy chest and the plush cushions of the couch.

“Yunho,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” At your lack of a response, he coos, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of your lips but not quite on the plush flesh that’s practically tingling with the desire to be engulfed by Yunho’s. 

“I need it,” you breathe. “Need you,” And as badly as he wants to ravage your body with kisses until you’re moaning his name into his mouth, he’s transfixed by the image of your eyes welling with desperate tears, lips swollen from how you bite at them when you try to restrain your sounds and pleas for him to just give himself to you and to stop teasing already. Weak as he is to his desires of your flesh, he settles for pressing a sweet kiss to your collarbone and revels in the way your eyes flutter shut. 

“To do what, my love?” His voice is muffled by your skin as he litters it with more kisses. 

“Stop teasing me, please,” you whine pitifully, and you would have the strength to be embarrassed if it wasn’t for Yunho’s responding deep chuckle. His long fingers brush against your core, applying insistent, sweet pressure for a moment where its soaked the flimsy fabric of your shorts. He brings the glistening digits up to his mouth, pausing to admire the way your arousal clings to his fingers as he separates them. “Yunho,” you whisper, pleading with him to do something, anything to soothe the ache between your thighs. 

He sucks his fingers— coated in your desire— into his mouth, answering your desperate plea with a cocky smirk and a teasing hum around the fingers in his mouth. When your eyes well with tears, he takes pity on you, cooing and swiping at your cheeks with his clean hand. It’s his turn to be embarrassed from how hard your teary, pouting face makes him; he can’t bring himself to tease his angel any further when the only thing he can think about is having you cry on his cock. Yunho brings a thumb to your lips, parting them and kissing you so fervently it feels like he’s pulling the breath out of your lungs. 

You’re so lost in his lips that the gentle yet firm brush of Yunho’s knuckles against the seat of your shorts sends a delicious jolt of arousal up your spine, a cute squeak slipping out of your mouth and into his. You feel the way his lips quirk in amusement, a silent pledge to draw as many lewd noises from you as he can before the night is over. The circles he rubs against your clothed clit are anything but soothing, forcing you to break away from Yunho’s intoxicating kisses to catch your breath, face pressed against his chest while your hips buck against his hand.

“More, please,” you beg, hand sliding under his shirt to run your fingers along his soft skin. 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, but how can he deny his angel, especially when asked so sweetly? He finally makes direct contact with your drooling cunt, long fingers teasing your folds until one is eagerly sucked in by your walls. 

“So good,” you babble into his shirt, and the laugh that rips from his chest is mean, but so, so sexy. 

“Just like that, huh, baby?” he coos. When your answer is nothing but a pathetic whine of his name, he chuckles again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, sweetheart, I’ll give it to you just how you like it,” 

“Need you to fuck me, Yunho,” you gasp, fists clenching uselessly around his shirt while he scissors his fingers in you. You know he’s trying to stretch you out, make it easier for you to take him, but you don’t care at this point. Every moment without his warmth filling you up and fucking you full is driving you crazy. The sharp glint of his smirk at your words has your walls clenching frantically around his fingers, drawing a guttural groan from Yunho’s throat that he throws his head back for. 

You can’t even bite back the pitiful whine the sight pulls out of you— you want to bite his neck, to bury your face in him and drown in his ocean, never coming back up for air if it means you can be surrounded by him, engulfed by him. “Please Yun, I can’t take it,” you whimper, voice catching when his fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you that draws a litany of sounds and broken cries of his name as he takes advantage of it. 

“But you’re soaking my hand, love,” he teases, a cruel smirk taking over his features as your fingers scrabble to grab a hold of his wrist. His ministrations have your limbs tingling, grip weak as you try to halt his pleasing assault on your pussy. “So wet, just for me, hm?” 

“Yours,” you nod frantically, nails lightly scratching at his forearm as you moan at the stimulation. “Put it in, Yunho, please?” you break, too far gone, too lost in the pleasure he pushes on you to care about the indecency and lewdness of your words, not when he’s staring you down like this. Not with his fingers mercilessly teasing your g-spot, sadistically cooing at the staccato whimpers that escape your mouth despite how hard you’re trying to stay quiet. 

“I can’t hear you honey, what was that?” he chuckles, voice dropping a little deeper at the frustrated moan you let out at his tormenting. 

“Yunho,” you huff, indignant, but it comes out as a breathy purr when he crooks his fingers against that spot just right. His sharp, cocky grin tells you it was no accident— he plays your body like an instrument, toying with you to draw out those pretty sounds you make just for him. 

“You’re clinging onto my fingers so tightly, baby, I need a little motivation to get them out to put my cock in you,” he says, voice dripping with faux sadness as though he isn’t enjoying every second of your helplessness beneath him. 

“You’re the wo-rst, Yunnie,” you scowl, face warming with embarrassment at the eroticism of your voice. Even you can’t take yourself seriously with the obscene moans punctuating your every word. 

“Awww, you want Yunnie that bad, baby?” he mocks. “It’s too bad you won’t beg for it,” 

Your trembling fingers curl tighter around his wrist to no avail, his assault on your g-spot so pleasurably mind-numbing that you stumble over your words as you try to beg for his cock, unintelligible cries of his name slipping past your lips. “Please, Yun, need you so badly, need you to fuck me so bad,” you finally manage, head thrown back to escape his piercing stare and perverse smile. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be so good, please just give it to me,” 

“There’s my angel,” he groans. Your pleading eyes brimming with unshed tears makes him want to hold you against the plush cushions of the couch and draw orgasm after orgasm from you until those tears are spilling down your cheeks, pleasure-addled brain unable to focus on anything but whining his name and pawing at his shirt the way you so endearingly do when he fucks you dumb. But since you asked so sweetly, so good for him as always, Yunho pulls his fingers out (with a firm rub against your g-spot and your pliant walls on the way out for good measure) and presses a reverent kiss to your clit before shucking down pants. 

You’re practically salivating, hands wringing the hem of his shirt in anticipation after so cruelly being denied his cock for so long. ”So eager, love,” Yunho chuckles, the weight of dick resting deliciously against your pussy. 

“It’s not my fault you’re such a tease,” you snark. “You could have been inside me ages ago, you sadist,” 

“Yeah?” is his only response, but his tone is so dangerous— airy, but threatening, with some hidden promise beneath it that you’re morbidly curious to discover. 

“Yeah,” you answer, but it comes out softly and timidly at the shift in his demeanor. The smirk on his face that disappeared at your brattiness returns, a more sinful glint in his eye as he takes in just how pliant you are for him.

“So cute, puppy,” he grins. “Fuck around and find out, huh?” And find out you do as he slides in, the glide laughably easy from how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing. 

“Yunho,” you whimper, a silent plea in your wide eyes to go faster, to stop tormenting you and to just give you all of him until there’s nothing left. 

“You’re soaking, angel,” he observes, blatantly ignoring your unspoken request. Instead, his thumbs find your folds, gently spreading them apart to expose your throbbing clit. You’re almost embarrassed at how closely he’s inspecting you, but you’re too overwhelmed by the hunger in his eyes as he bites his lip at your arousal. He brings a thumb against your clit, applying delicious pressure that has your body jerking against his, sheathing his cock snugly within your walls. He laughs at the cute yelp you make when his pelvis finally connects with yours, pressing a little harder against your clit to hear you squeal and watch you shut your eyes tightly to escape the pleasure. 

He devours you in every sense— drinking in the sight of your trembling form trapped beneath him, savoring the erotic mewls and desperate moans you make for him as he feasts on the feeling of your hot skin beneath his fingers and trapping his cock. He has to fight the urge to gather you up in his arms and press you against him, chest to chest, face preferably buried in your neck or hair or lips smothering yours so he can be close to you in every sense of the word, but you look too lovely splayed against the couch cushions for him to manhandle you any further. 

“Feel good?” he asks softly, bringing his free hand up to your face to fondly brush away the hair obstructing his view of his angel. He’s checking in on you, making sure he isn’t being too rough, making sure you can still feel all the love behind his teasing. 

“So good, Yuyu,” you pant. “Please move, please fuck me,” As always, your wish is his command, so he complies, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in. Your moan is so obscene its practically pornographic, and coupled with the tight warmth of your walls sucking him in, Yunho has to throw his head back with a guttural groan to keep himself sane. You’re so fucking cute, calling him Yuyu with his cock buried within you, your pretty, teary eyes blinking up at him so sincerely as you ask him to fuck you. 

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t give his angel the world on a silver platter, so if it’s a good fuck you want it’s a good fuck you’ll get. With every thrust, you let out a breathy moan or a lascivious “please.” If he angles himself just right, you punch out a sweet keen of that nickname that he would find gut-wrenchingly cute under any other circumstances— but with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, brows drawn up and arms splayed limply above your head as you’re left helpless to the pleasure he fucks into you, Yunho would have to be some kind of deity not to lose his mind. For how pliant and weak he makes you, you return it twofold, leaving him powerless before your charm. 

You bring an arm down to your stomach, hand finding one of his to intertwine your fingers as he fucks you deep and calculated, thrusts perfectly orchestrated to have you falling apart on his cock. “Feels so good, Yuyu, I love you so much,” you whimper as your fingers slot into the gaps between his, and Yunho has to grip your hip with all the strength he has to stop himself from filling you up with his cum then and there. 

“I love you too, angel,” he praises, fighting to keep his voice level. “Always so fucking good for me,” 

Your moans begin to rise in pitch, broken little gasps and desperate whimpers of “Yuyu, just like that, please don’t stop,” that come to a peak as your back arches into a pretty crescent, hips bucking madly against his as you fall apart on his cock, cumming with a satisfied sob of his name. 

Yunho has many hobbies, some more productive than others, but his absolute favorite is watching you cum, treasuring the pretty expressions you make only for him and the debauched sounds he can pull out of you. It was good, he can tell from the way you’re panting and blinking slowly like you’re still coming down, but he doesn’t let up because you aren’t crying yet and he promised he would have you falling apart on him so good that you wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. 

You’re so cute, eyes widening in surprise as he fucks you through your orgasm. Yunho isn’t sure if he wants to show the whole world how his angel is the loveliest there could ever be, or if he wants to keep you all to himself, so sweet, all fucked out and pliant for him. 

That possessive beast you conjured in him always seems to win, though, and he shifts so he’s looming over you even more dangerously now, broad shoulders filling your view with nothing but Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You’d never have it any other way though, mewling at the overstimulation, squirming beneath him and tugging uselessly at his shirt as he fucks you relentlessly. 

“Can you t-take this off, at least?” you whimper, and he heeds your request with a breathy chuckle, his pace inside you never faltering as he tears his hands away from your hips to pull his shirt off. He feels your walls flutter desperately around his cock at his exposed torso, pulling a more throaty laugh from his chest. 

“What a pervert,” he teases, licking his unfairly pretty bow-shaped lips as his palms find your hips once more. 

“Y-You’re such a hypocrite,” you punch out between soft little whines, an indignant squeak preceding your words. 

“Mmm, never said I wasn’t a pervert, my love,” Yunho grins, pinching your hip and grinning wider at the way you squirm. “I’m a proud pervert when it comes to you, but you’re just as bad, aren’t you, angel?”

You want to retort, cheeks warm with humiliation, but you can’t form the words or the thought when Yunho’s penetrating you so perfectly. You’re only able to manage a feeble moan, which draws another mean-spirited laugh from Yunho and the rewarding pressure of his thumb against your clit once more. He finally stops teasing you with his words only for his mouth to latch onto one of your nipples, the hand that’s not busy at your clit making its way up to your other nipple to toy with it until you’re jerking against his body, helpless to his desires as his chest secures you against the cushions. 

Yunho has the gall to laugh against your skin when he bites the pillowy flesh around your nipple, resulting in a cute yelp from you that has him hardening impossibly further within you. The assault on all your sweet spots has you clenching uselessly around him, walls hugging him so tight he can’t tell if you’re trying to push him out or suck him in deeper, if that was even possible. Your thighs are twitching uncontrollably around his hips, fingers scrabbling against his back, seeking purchase in the soft skin and hard muscles contracting under your fingertips from how powerfully he’s thrusting into you. 

You’re almost there, he can tell from the litany of pitiful whines and maddeningly sexy pleas of his name spilling from your lips, but he needs to give you just a little more to have you coming undone for him the way he wants, to give you pleasure so good it leaves you floating for the rest of the evening; so he painstakingly pulls his hand away from your (now swollen from his attention) nipple to press his palm flat against your stomach, applying just the right amount of force to have you gasping and digging your nails into his skin. It hurts so good, his eyes roll back into his head, but he has to keep himself under control at least until he draws that orgasm from you that he knows you’re craving. 

Your eyes find his, and those unshed tears that have been driving him crazy finally fall past your lashes, spilling down your cheeks as you moan his name. You’re so perfect, in every sense of the word, squirting all over his cock as he fills you up. “That’s it, my love,” he praises you, voice deep and strained as he cums for you, “So good for me,” 

“I love you, Yuyu,” you mumble as he pulls out, slowly and cautiously because he knows you’re probably sensitive from all his teasing from earlier. The painstakingly slow drag of his cock against your walls has you twitching against his hips, though— you can feel every ridge and every vein this way and you’re starting to think that Yunho probably had a point when he called you a pervert earlier. If you are a pervert, it’s only for him. 

“I love you too, angel,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your thighs twitch as he soothingly cleans them with a warm, damp towel, carefully brushing your hair away from your face and rubbing comforting circles into your hip with his free hand. “It was okay, baby?” he asks, movements faltering slightly as he looks up at you from between your thighs with those sparkling puppy-like eyes that got you into this predicament in the first place. 

“It was perfect, Yun,” you say sincerely. “You felt so good that I couldn’t really… control myself,” you mumble, trailing off out of embarrassment. You have to avert your eyes for your own sanity when that puppy face splits into a teasing grin, his canines back on display. 

“Hmm, I can tell,” he chuckles, leaning up towards your face to warmly kiss away the few tears still adorning your cheeks. 

“Yunho,” you whine, indignant. “You asked me just to tease,” 

“Nooooo, baby,” he laughs. “It’s not my fault you’re so cute when you get like this,” 

You can’t really retort, not when he’s giggling like that, what with his pretty smile and soft cheeks. 

“If my angel has any other dirty little secrets to share, I think we could have a lot of fun with it, don’t you?” he lilts, taunting you by sliding his long fingers through your hair to rest firmly at your scalp. Not tugging, not yet, but the possibility lingers, kicking up your heartbeat again. 

“You’re the one hiding all these kinky secrets,” you counter, pouting. “I know you took that pair of lacy panties I asked you about the other week, you pervert, so who’s the real false angel?” 

Yunho just laughs, again, a throaty chuckle rumbling in his chest that would have your thighs clenching to alleviate the jolt of arousal shocking your core if he wasn’t settled between your legs. “You have a point, love,” he acquiesces, and shoots you a wink that already has you needy for him to draw yet another orgasm from you. You’ll save this information for next time, though— you have a lifetime to explore Yunho and a lifetime to fall deeper in love with every new inch he reveals. 

[thevilqueen]

Potion Mishap ~ Vil Schoenheit

Word Count: 1 625

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Summary: Vil realizes he made a terrible mistake when the hate potion he was crafting for his potion assignment meant to get his mind off you turned into a lust potion.

A/N: This is a continuation of Mimi’s fic right here. It’s smut with plot. There is slight dubcon and reader is afab. Let me know what you think!

Loud knocks on your door startled you as you put your pen down on your desk, standing up from your chair. You walked up to the entrance of your bedroom and watched through the peephole only to see Vil. You frowned. It wasn’t unusual for him to seek you out without notice but the way he was so impatiently knocking on the wooden door had you wondering about what could be so urgent.

“Yes, Vil?” you said, opening the door, your eyes meeting his violet ones.

Vil’s pupils were strangely dilated, you noticed. He was also breathing unevenly, and the red dusting his cheeks didn’t seem to be a make-up choice. He pushed past you, not waiting to be invited and you let him in, closing the door behind the two of you.

“Vil, are you alright?” you asked, a little concerned.

Vil didn’t say anything, but his expression betrayed him. He looked like whatever was tormenting him was about to burst out of him and he had trouble containing it. Before you could question him any further, however, he pushed you against your door. Your eyes widened at the sudden action and you gasped.

“[Name],” he moaned, pressing his body against yours, his hands on either side of you. “I am so sorry.”

“Vil? What’s wrong?”

Your concern only grew with the way he was behaving. Vil breathed heavily before walking backwards, his legs trembling as he made his way to your bed. You immediately followed, worried for your friend. He cried out as he fell onto your mattress and you rushed to him, sitting right beside him on the bed.

“This potion… We made a mistake… [Name]… I cannot take it any more…” Vil said incoherently.

“Vil, what potion?” you replied, panicked and even more confused. “Should I get help? You’re scaring me.”

“No, [Name],” he moaned again, reaching for your hands. “I need you.”

This was when you noticed the tent forming in Vil’s pants and you finally understood.

He sat up on your bed almost immediately and wrapped an arm around your waist. Then he pushed you onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. You didn’t question him as he kissed you. You were frozen in place, having trouble processing what was happening. Vil’s tongue slid inside your mouth and it was aggressively that he undressed you. He pulled down your skirt and you were pretty sure your fishnets were torn with how quickly he took them off.

All of this was unexpected, to say the least, and it was only when he unbuttoned your shirt and pulled down your bra to suck on your exposed breast that you realized none of this should be happening with your closest friend even though you wanted it nearly as much as Vil did.

“Vil?” you breathed, as his tongue teased your nipples. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

He ignored you, pulling on his tie instead and unbuttoning his shirt.

“You’re not being yourself,” you reminded him in between kisses.

“I think I am,” he whispered in your ear before kissing your neck.

Soon you were moaning Vil’s name too as he showed no signs of stopping anytime. Your legs tightened around him, feeling him bury himself inside you. He was absolutely heavenly, you couldn’t help thinking as he repeatedly bruised your lips with his. You lost count of the orgasms he stole from you and as you switched positions and he trapped you under his body once again, you started to lose track of time and your surroundings.

By the time he reached his release, you were out of breath and a sticky mess of limbs and sweat. Your hands were intertwined when he slowly pulled out from you and lay on your back as your core was still pulsating. You didn’t say anything and let him hold you an arm over your waist as he slid to your side. To be completely honest you didn’t know where to start if you were to speak so you kept quiet for a while enjoying his warmth. Once you finally broke the silence, however, it appeared that Vil had fallen asleep and you couldn’t help chuckling.

It was certainly an endearing sight, you thought as you turned around, facing him. You reached for your blanket, covering him up, a smile on your face as you lay with him. By the time he woke up, you had dressed up and folded his clothes neatly on your desk. You had wondered if you should have woke him up but you figured he was tired, the potion he had ingested was visibly potent after all. You also brought him a light snack and a cup of tea and as he started moving, you hoped he was feeling rested at the very least.

He rubbed his eyes as he awakened, proof that he was likely confused as the action smudged his make-up all over his eyes. He frowned at the sight of the mascara and brown eyeshadow on his fingertips then he looked around the room, realizing he was on your bed. You stood up from your chair by your desk and moved to sit next to him.

“Are you okay, Vil?” you asked, softly.

He took a moment before answering as if the memories of the past events were still foggy. Then his eyes widened as he remembered everything and jolted awake.

“Oh Sevens,” he muttered to himself, in shock, before finally making eye contact with you. “What have I done?”

“Well, a lot of things,” you replied, unsure about how he was taking what had just happened.

“I don’t know what to say. I have no words. What I did is terrible and I have no excuse. I take full accountability for sexually assaulting you and I will fix it in any way you see fit.”

The guilt on Vil’s face was apparent and the way with which he spoke these words immediately made you feel bad for him. He was mistaken, though. While it was true that you hadn’t given your consent for what had unfolded at first there was no point where you wanted him to stop and he didn’t. In fact, it was probably the most enjoyable sex you had ever had even if he had been very visibly consumed by his lust.

“Vil, please, you didn’t sexually assault me,” you reassured him. “Sure, I was a bit confused at first but I didn’t stop you because I was enjoying it. To be quite honest, I should have stopped you, you were clearly not being yourself. So, I am also at fault.”

“No. Don’t even try blaming yourself. I barged into your room and forcefully had sex with you,” he argued.

You couldn’t help chuckling at the absurdity of the situation even though Vil was everything except amused.

“We just had rough sex. I liked it. I liked it a lot even. Besides, I could have very easily neutralized you with my signature spell. I didn’t because I thought we were having a good time. I do feel bad though because if your actions were only motivated by the potion then it means I took advantage of you.”

“It wasn’t just the potion. While I didn’t intend it to turn out that way, I did want to have sex with you… Just not like that. I apologize again,” he explained, with a look of sadness on his face.

“Why the long face? If we both wanted to have sex then it’s alright. Sure it was unexpected but we can always try again with explicit consent this time.”

You chuckled and Vil shook his head.

“Are you sure you are alright?” he insisted. “I do really feel bad.”

“Don’t,” you said with a smile, moving closer to him. “Can I have the story behind this potion, though?”

Vil remained quiet for a moment. He was embarrassed.

“We were crafting a hate potion with Mai-Siri for our potionology class and it was supposed to neutralize my feelings for you for a short time but it backfired,” he confessed.

“A hate potion? Why were you trying to neutralize your feelings for me?”

“Well,” Vil hesitated. “It was only going to be temporary and I just wanted to get my mind off you… It was stupid, I know.”

“Hate potions react to the person ingesting the potion’s feelings for the target. Which means that if you had picked a random person to target, you would have developed hatred for them shortly. It works differently if you care for the person you are targeting, though.”

Vil nodded.

“Depending on how much and how you love your target, the effects of the potion differ. One of the side effects is lust. That said, this is only possible if the romantic love you feel for that person is overwhelmingly strong…” he continued.

You chuckled.

“So, in other words, you are so down bad for me that your hatred turned into lust. How embarrassing.”

Vil rolled his eyes.

“Would you please stop rubbing salt in the wounds? I am already ashamed for making such a stupid mistake.”

You laughed.

“Looks like you underestimated how much you love me.”

“I guess I did. This is so embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute,” you reassured him, kissing his lips softly.

Vil smiled at the action. This was certainly not how he had planned to confess his feelings for you but at least you seemed to be happy with how it turned out regardless.

“So are we practising explicit consent yet or?”

“You are unbearable,” Vil replied before closing the distance between you two, kissing you as you wrapped your arms around him and you both fell onto the mattress again.

[gummygowon]

bingo | park seonghwa

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst + fluff, single dad!seonghwa x reader

warnings: brief mention of hwa's ex partner not being in their daughter's life

author's note: after seeing seonghwa on that one show with kids i literally cannot get dad!teez out of my head

it's been almost a month? since you've started going out with seonghwa. he was a great guy, a little older than you and was always a gentleman to you, what more could you ask for? at this point, you were waiting for seonghwa to make it official but there was just something that was holding him back. you didn't know what it was but you trusted that with time he'll tell you.

tonight, was another date night and even after all these days you still got nervous before each one. it was no different when you arrived at seonghwa's house fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

hesitantly, you knocked on the door to reveal a disheveled looking seonghwa. his usually slicked back hair wasn't done and a few buttons on his shirt were open.

"hi," seonghwa breathes out, a tired smile on his face.

"are you okay, hwa?" you ask almost instantly, concern taking over before you notice a tiny figure waddling up behind him. big doe eyes looking up at you from behind his legs, "oh hello!"

"yeojin, go into your room really quickly. appa will be there in a second." seonghwa softly asks, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "come in, i'm so sorry. just give me a minute, things have been...chaotic."

"oh no worries." you respond empathetically, taking note of how many toys and coloring books were scattered all over the place. so he has a child? is he divorced?

before too many questions popped into your mind, seonghwa immediately began talking as he began to pick up the scattered toys. "i'm so sorry about the mess. i had to stay at the office a little longer and then i picked up yeojin late and i just haven't had time to clean up and then our babysitter canceled last minute and now-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt before seonghwa combusts from being overwhelmed. to ease the burden, you also begin to pick up the toys around the living room after you placed a hand on his back. "it's okay. don't worry about it. there's always tomorrow seonghwa."

"i know, i know but-wait. you're not mad or disgusted?" the man stops in his tracks looking at you perplexed.

"i'm a little surprised if i'm being honest. i know taking care of a child is hard and by yourself i assume is even harder. your kid is more important than anything in the world, missing one date won't kill me hwa."

seonghwa was standing still, not a sound coming out his mouth which was beginning to freak you out. did you say the wrong thing? is seonghwa yeojin's dad or? "seonghwa?"

"sorry, i'm just a little shocked. not a lot of people are very happy when they find out they've been going out with a single dad." seonghwa lightly jokes trying to ease the tension in the air. "thank you though. it means a lot. really."

"of course," you smile at him.

a door opens to reveal a tiny yeojin peeking out from what you presumed to be her room.

"hey bubba, what's up." seonghwa asks, his voice becoming much softer.

she doesn't say much but instead pads over to the coffee table and attaches herself to her dad. "can we draw?"

"of course bubs. let appa go get the markers."

"i can get them." you say faster than seonghwa gets up to which he directs you over to one of the drawers in the living room.

upon your arrival, seonghwa has a bluey coloring book out for yeojin. crutching down to reach the table, you gasp softly at the blue dog. "is that bluey?"

yeojin nods her head shyly, a small smile appearing on her face as seonghwa looks up at you in surprise.

"ahh, i love bluey! who's your favorite character?" you ask watching yeojin point to the smaller, light colored dog.

"bingo?" yeojin nods again, her smile growing even bigger. "no way, i like her too!"

seonghwa watched the two of you converse in awe and he swears he couldn't have fallen more in love with you. it was always a gamble bringing up the fact that he had a kid to his dates and lately he's been ghosted more times than he can count. maybe that's why seonghwa took so long to talk about yeojin. although, he would never admit it, you had him wrapped your finger and he was scared to lose you.

so far though, you were taking his little "surprise" or "fun fact" about him better than he thought you would. still, he was worried what you would say when yeojin left the room. would you be mad at him? dump him on the spot? ghost him after tonight? he's never had one of his flings (?) ever meet yeojin because they all left at the mention of a kid. to say seonghwa was terrified of your reaction was a massive understatement.

"seonghwa?" you ask, pulling the dad out of his thoughts. "yeojin wants to watch bluey."

"right." he answers, gently removing yeojin from his lap as he goes to scrounge for the remote in his unusually disorganized apartment.

while seonghwa looks for the remote, you continue to converse with yeojin about bluey which was the show you ironically watched during dinner time. hey, there's actually plot and messages in the show okay?

by the time seonghwa returned, the two of you were in a deep conversation about some episode regarding bingo and bluey playing pretend with their grandad. almost immediately, yeojin eye's become glued to the screen as soon her dad puts on the kid's show leaving you and seonghwa to talk amongst each other.

"so, you know bluey?" seonghwa asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

an embarrassed laugh slips past your lips, "uh yeah, sounds silly but i watch it as background noise, you know?"

"i'm not judging," he pauses, "just surprised."

"yeah, i like the accents." you say in a panic causing seonghwa to smile, "so, um i don't mean to pry but i assume yeojin's yours?"

the smile slowly fades on his face as seonghwa feels the guilt build in his stomach. "yeah, her, uh mom isn't in the picture anymore."

"oh, i'm so sorry to hear that."

"it's fine now, it's better without her." seonghwa looks down at his hands trying to distract himself from the thoughts about the past.

"oh."

there was a beat of silence where the both of you didn't dare to look at each other, too afraid to make things weird. only the faint conversations of the tv and the sounds of the marker on paper were heard.

"look, i'm really sorry for dumping all this on you." seonghwa gestures to an oblivious yeojin. "i know you probably weren't expecting a child tonight or any of this really. i completely understand if you don't want to talk again or you need space. whatever you want, i'll do."

"it's okay,"

"i-you're not mad?" seonghwa asks in shock.

"i mean i'm not mad. i understand not bringing up a daughter on the first date. but i'm just a little disappointed you didn't tell me sooner." you confess.

"i didn't want to lose you."

"seonghwa-"

"i was trying to plan the perfect time to talk about yeojin but i just got so swamped with everything that time slipped through my fingers and you had to find out in such a shitty way."

your eyes dart towards a sleepy yeojin on seonghwa's lap at the curse word. even he jumps a little at his realization and then calms down when he realized that his baby girl was almost knocked out in his lap.

"would you have told me before we made things official?" you ask, testing the waters about how serious you could go tonight with the questions.

"yes. most definitely yes. i couldn't just ask you to be my partner and then surprise you that i have a whole child that i've been hiding from you."

interesting. so was he going to tell you about yeojin soon? was he going to make things official?

seonghwa could see the gears turning in your head at his words. "it sounds hypocritical now but trust me i really wanted you two to meet. i just-i really like you y/n."

you go quiet. processing everything he was saying. from what he was saying there was a very very high chance he wants you to be his like officially his but even if he actually wanted to make things official, he has a whole child. a child without a mother. were you really ready to take on the responsibility to be one? or anything similar to that role?

being with seonghwa meant much more than just being together and loyal to one another. being honest, you didn't mind yeojin. so far you got along great with her but a single interaction and convo won't predict the future of your relationship with her. it's a lot definitely but-

"y/n," seonghwa softly says pulling you out from your daze, "i'll be right back i'm gonna put yeojin down in her room."

you hum in response, letting your thoughts consume you once more.

your brain was beginning to ache because of how much you were thinking but one thing was for certain. you really liked seonghwa. enough that you were willing to accept everything that came with him - including yeojin.

you reminded yourself that dating seonghwa didn't mean automatically becoming a parent all of a sudden. he wasn't asking that of you. probably won't for a long time. he wants you for you. it's just a bonus you got along with yeojin so far.

there was a soft click of the door closing that made you turn your head. you look over to see seonghwa awkwardly make his way over to you, uncertainty written all over his face.

"i'm sorry for going quiet on you." you apologize, fingers toying with the hem of your cardigan once more. "i was just thinking."

a quiet laugh escapes seonghwa, "it's okay, don't worry about it. i'm sure tonight was a lot. but-"

"listen, seonghwa," oh here it comes. the "i'm so sorry, i don't think this will work out anymore". "i don't know what your plans were for us but regardless of what happened tonight, i want to be more. i know you having a whole kid might make things difficult or a little confusing but, i'm willing to try with you."

seonghwa felt his heart drop and then pick back up again when you finished talking. he didn't know what to say. he was grateful, excited, but most of all relived.

"so, how does another date this thursday night," seonghwa pauses, trying to not choke on his words, "as mine sound?"

"are you finally asking me to be your partner, park seonghwa?" you smile. it's finally happening.

"yes." seonghwa breathes out, truly terrified of your answer.

"then yes, i would love to." you answer, wrapping your arms around seonghwa's neck.

"sounds good then my love." seonghwa mumbles, his heart racing and his head buzzing from the overwhelming night but it didn't matter to him.

you were finally his.

[kamotecue]

jealousy, jealousy ✮ l. walti

summary: in which a certain brunette doesn’t love the fact that someone’s so close to you, or how a certain australian thinks you shouldn’t be with her.

part one, two, three, four, five and six.

you were with jessie & niamh, both teams had to inspect the pitch as usual. if someone were to look closer, you’d notice the hearing aids that you wore.

“another derby day, not an el clasico to what you’re used to—but, don’t get distracted n/n.” niamh teased, as jessie nudged your arm.

“not when we’re playing against the brunette you have a little crush on.” jessie joked, as you lightly glared at her. but they were completely right, ever since hestia had run off in the middle of the park, you had grown closer to the swiss player.

she’d occasionally invite you to her place, vice versa as well—not to mention how you’d snuggle into her side, with her consent of course. she would wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

but you didn’t think much of it, that these actions are just how she treats all her friends, so it didn’t get your hopes up on whatever this is. instead, you were contented whether it was as a friend, a player on the opposing team, you were glad and thankful to be part of lia walti’s life.

as the rest of your team began to head back to the tunnels, your eyes glanced at the stands, wondering if your sister and svigerinne were in the stands. but when your eyes locked with ingrid, a soft chuckle escaped your lips—she was holding tightly on your sister, making sure she didn’t injure herself anymore now that she already had her surgery.

“svigerinne. [sister-in-law.]” you greeted ingrid as they took their seats, to which she flushed at.

“gjør oss stolte. [make us proud.]” ingrid teased, as you gave her a nod. but your eyes were switched to eloise who had an amused look.

“what?” you hummed, as eloise simply chuckled at your shyness. mapi raised her eyebrows at the interaction, to which you dismissed.

you were oblivious to the fact on how close she was, she held onto your wrist as ingrid looked at you in amusement. she knew all about your crush on a certain swiss player as she heard from mapi, that said player was looking at the interaction, how her eyes lingered on your wrist, seeing someone she doesn’t know—holding onto you, sparked something.

what’s worse is that the two of you weren’t even together, she finds your obliviousness cute, but sometimes she’d wish that you’d take notice of the hints.

“leon!” emma’s voice rang, as you gazed at the head coach. she beckoned you to come over, as you gave her curt nod.

“well, see you guys after the game.” you said, bidding goodbye as you jogged over to emma. the two of you walked to the locker room, engaging in different tactics as you listened well.

the game started just like you expected, both teams were eager to score the first point. but you shrugged, giving the opposing team a wink, as you were dribbling the ball closer to their goal, slotting it in the upper right corner—when the ball hit the net, signaling one-nil to chelsea.

you heard cheers from the crowd, as jessie ruffled your hair. whenever you scored, you never celebrated it, as a way to respect your opponents. lia watched with a soft smile, missing the way a certain teammate looked at her.

throughout the first half, you were at a disadvantage due to being tackled by a certain forward whenever she had the chance. you had already passed the ball, when the australian made her way to tackle you, you braced for impact literally landing on your back, as you gasped—absolutely winded by that.

the whistle had blew, as the ref had enough—quickly showing caitlin the yellow card, as she turned to check up on you. you received pats on the back, as you tried to stable your breathing.

“¿cuál es su problema? [what is her problem?]” you asked in spanish, as jessie knelt beside you—millie, the english woman looking at you in concern.

“are you good to play?” millie asked, knowing if you weren’t you’d be subbed off. but you gave her a nod, you still had some left in you. meanwhile, lia pulled caitlin away a raised eyebrow was seen.

“stop whatever this is, you’ve moved on, so why can’t i?” lia said, as she went back to her position. her eyes never left you, until you had gotten up.

the first half had came to an end, both teams had the same score, 2-2. you had entered the tunnel, swinging an arm over jessie and niamh. the locker room was silent, as emma gave her tactics, to change the game.

you lifted your jersey, seeing the bruises as you swiftly pulled the shirt down, noticing the concern from the duo. after a few harsh shoves from the australian forward, you had enough—giving her a small shove, as she got close to you.

the sound of cracking was caught your attention, you had bent down—bringing your hand to your nose, feeling the warmth fluid run down your arm. you didn’t pay attention to the whistle, or how several of your teammates moved the forward away from you.

niamh was by your side in an instant, as she knelt down, looking at your situation. she grimaced at the sight of blood, but turned to the benches signaling for the medics.

“that looks bloody.” niamh said, as you chuckled but winced at the pain. your head was raised as you looked at the big screen, the blood trailing down your arm was a terrible sight to see.

“she won’t be happy.” you groaned, as you removed your hand, the medics quickly doing their job.

“seems like they’re one player down.” jessie commented, as she saw the ref raise the red card. the arsenal bench was in shock at how their forward behavior, as emma was delighted at the advantage.

“you’ll be going off, as fran will be subbed in.” millie commented, as you gave her a nod, following the medics to the sidelines, giving a high five with your clean hand.

you took your spot on the bench, your jersey was stained with blood as you glanced at the field—the ice pack wasn’t helping at all. you watched as the ref blew the final whistle, signaling the end of the game—the chelsea bench ran to the field as you softly smiled at them.

you analyzed the arsenal team, there was tension as you raised an eyebrow. but your eyes were on a certain swiss who walked beside the english captain, clearly listening to her friend’s words.

you hummed before moving to the barriers, mapi wasn’t amused on what happened. she grabbed your chin, analyzing your nose as ingrid had to swat her hand away.

“parece que alguien estaba celoso. [it seems like someone was jealous.]” mapi said, as you hummed at her words.

“¿caitlin? no tiene derecho a estar celosa. [caitlin? she has no right to be.]” as you said, clearly not knowing the missing part. as mapi snickered at your oblivious state, resulting in a smack by ingrid to which she pouted at.

“great game, leon.“ eloise said, as you gave her a nod. you glanced at her younger sister who had a sign, she wanted your shirt. as you gave her a soft smile, before tugging your jersey off—giving it to eloise’s younger sister who gave you a small thanks.

meanwhile, in the arsenal training room—it was silent, a pin could drop and you’d be able to hear it.

“would you want to explain anything?” kim asked, clearly unamused at her teammate’s red card, the cause of hurting a player of the opposing team.

lia was seen glancing at the floor, clearly not wanting to talk about it. as caitlin just sat there, despite katie being beside her.

“then, you’ll be benched foord.” as a protest from the australian forward was heard, but a simple look from steph had silenced it.

the team dispersed, as lia grabbed her kit bag, deciding it was best to shower up at her own place. leah had followed her, connecting the dots as she bumped into her teammate’s shoulder.

“so, a chelsea player.” leah hummed, as lia chuckled.

“yeah, a chelsea player.” lia softly smiled, as leah’s eyes noticed you. you were sitting on a couch, playing with your fingers as you waited for lia.

“seems like princess charming is here.” leah nudged, as lia followed leah’s gaze to see you. her eyes analyzed you, taking note of the bandaged nose, as she chuckled catching your attention.

you stood up, walking to the pair as you greeted leah, who returned it with a small smile. you felt lia gently touch your face, as she placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“that must’ve hurt.” lia said, as you hummed.

“it did.”

[reiderwriter]

At Long Last Love Has Arrived

Final Chapter of That's What You Get

Summary: After a hard case, the team gathers in a celebration of love and friendship.

Warnings: suggestive content, no smut. Spoilers for Seaaon 7 Episodes "Hit" and "Run."

A/N: This is it! This is the final chapter! It's been a long journey and I'm so thankful to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, and generally followed along with the story! And to anyone who is here now that it's finished: Thank you as well! For now, this is everything I have planned for this series, but I might add a few epilogues a few months down the line!

For everyone waiting for my last week of kinktober content, thank you for being so patient! I'm hoping to get it all finished and the backlog up this weekend, so let's just count this as a super special weekend special!

As always, you can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here!

It was late in the day when the case finally wrapped, and you'd never felt more relieved to have come out of a case unscathed. 

JJ was a wreck, obviously, having had her family targeted and believing on multiple occasions that she was about to lose her partner. Emily was acting strange, too, and you were growing more concerned with her, especially after she'd put herself in harm's way to save Will. 

The team was exhausted, and you gladly slunked away that night, practically falling into your own apartment as you tried to bury a day of close calls. Spencer followed you, of course. The two of you sat silently together after the days events, just thankful to have company, really. 

Your husband (you were still warming yourself up to that title) sat, jaw tensed, on your couch, book in hand and hair a mess as you sat beside him, slowly sinking further into the couch as you thanked the gods that everyone got through that, but especially him. 

"Spencer," you whispered, looking at him to see if he'd notice your small sounds. No reaction.

"Spencer." You tried again, still in a whisper, but he still didn't make a move. Sighing and falling further into the couch, you decided just to go for it and laid your head in his lap quietly, closing your eyes and finding a comfortable position. He didn't bat an eye, though, simply tangling a hand through your hair and gently stroking it until the comforting repetition pulled you into a dreamless slumber. 

He tried to wake you up gently a few hours later, but the shrill ring of his cell interrupted his gentle touches. You gasped and startled up, almost headbutting him but instead ending up face to face, close enough to hear the hitch in his breath as he caught you just before you collided. 

"Sorry… I must've fallen asleep." Your voice was low, mostly because you'd let your gaze fall down to his lips, getting distracted by his proximity. 

"You did." He said, stroking your back and looking just as distracted. 

"We should probably pick that call up, right," you suggested, but you were already being drawn into his orbit, noses practically touching.

"Maybe we should," he replied, but instead of moving to do so, he simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and pulled your face up to his. The slant of his lips against yours was calming, so sweet and familiar, and so goddamn good that it helped drown out the pitchy screech of his phone. His hand stayed firmly on your jaw, controlling your movements and showing you exactly what he wanted in these stolen moments.

As the kiss went on, it grew hotter, a gentle flame searing your chest as you begged his lips to put it out, needing more and more of him. His hand left your jaw, falling instead to your ass as he pulled you on top of him fully, letting you straddle him as he kept your lips connected. 

You were entranced, letting him devour you to your heart's content. You wanted to move your hips to feel more of him at your core, but he had a firm grip and wasn't letting you go that easily. 

"Talk about topping from the bottom," you laughed into his ear as you pulled away for a second, pushing your hair behind your ear before he grabbed you and pulled you down for another hungry kiss.

"Don't get bratty, Y/N, we both know you're a pillow princess," you laughed at that and he took advantage, pressing his lips to your neck as he finally let your hips fall to meet his. Your laugh morphed into a hiss as you desperately clung to his shoulders, head thrown back in the bliss of what was to come. 

The ringing had stopped, thankfully, and honestly, it was so far from your mind that you'd almost completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place.

Until it started again, except this time it was vibrations in your pants and you practically moaned out loud before clapping a hand over your mouth and bolting from Spencer's lap, grabbing your phone as fast as you could while Spencer barely contained his enjoyment of the situation. 

"This is Y/N." You said into the receiver as you glared daggers at him. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but considering Doctor Reid just let my call ring out, I think I might have." David Rossi's barely contained mirth was evident even through the phone, and you mouthed some bad words at Spencer as he grabbed you and pulled you down into his lap again. 

"Since that wasn't a question, I won't be dignified it with a response. Is there anything you need, Rossi?" You asked, tipping your head back against Spencer’s shoulder but not letting yourself relax just yet. You'd never be able to live it down if you made any mistakes on this call. 

"Somehow, the knuckleheads around me keep getting engaged and married, and as a generous soul, I find myself wanting to help them." 

"Who got engaged?" You said, suddenly perking up. It'd been a tough day. Some good news and a celebration were direly needed. 

"Relax, I'm getting there. Are you and your now seemingly permanent husband free tomorrow night? A little birdie may have told me about a certain blonde finally giving into a proposal today. That same birdie may also have already flown out a Mrs. Jareau to bare witness."

"David Rossi, has anyone ever told you what a wonderful man you are?" 

"Not enough, I'm sure."

"We'll be there. What time?" He told you the details, and you whispered them into Spencer's ear, knowing that was just as good as jotting it down on paper. 

"And Rossi?" You said, as you were about to say your goodbyes, "thank you. For everything." The call ended and looked back up at Spencer from your place on his lap. 

"I think we have another shotgun wedding to attend." 

–X– 

Waiting for JJ to come down in her wedding dress, you were reminded again of what a truly wonderful choice of husband you had made. 

The two of you had arrived together at the wedding, but had made a small attempt to separate yourselves for now, not wanting to take the attention away from JJ and Will on their big day after their nightmarish week. You'd had a quick wink from Penelope, though, and a wiggle of the eyebrows from Emily, which made you chuckle as she handed you a flute of champagne. 

"You look incredible, Mrs. Reid." She said under her breath, and you giggled a bit but called her off as best you could. 

"Laying low for now, so keep your mouth shut, Agent Prentiss." She stuck her tongue out at you, and the two of you burst into laughter as you enjoyed the peaceful ambience Rossi had created in his back garden. 

"If Rossi ever re-retires, he should think of pursuing a career as a party planner. I know writing is working out well for him, but damn, that man could make a killing." Emily joked, catching your attention for a second, but you were distracted, eyes watching Reid from across the lawn. 

He was crouched down beside Henry, showing the eager, bright-eyed boy a magic trick. He looked so happy, so genuinely engaged with Henry, focusing his entire attention on him, that you couldn't help but watch on fondly. You knew how it felt to have his attention devoted entirely on you, and you felt your skin grow warm as you imagined how he would be with his own children. 

With your children. 

"Looking a little feverish there, Y/N. Baby feverish." In embarrassment, you looked away, letting your eyes fall around the lawn to anything but Reid as you tried to stammer out a response. 

"Whatever could you mean? Oh, would you look at that, Hotch is calling me over, see you." 

A skilful exit it was not, and now you'd forced yourself to go and make awkward conversation with your boss for a few minutes to escape the cackles of laughter escaping Emily behind you. You felt your ears glow red as you slowly marched across the lawn, convinced that someone was going to try and extinguish you before you reached your destination. 

Luckily, Beth saw you approach before Hotchner did and called out to you, extending a smile and a greeting. 

"Y/N, you look lovely. It's great to see you. How have you been?" You exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a while before Hotch cut in again. 

''Beth, I think the ceremony is starting soon. Would you mind finding Jack for me while I discuss something with Y/N?" He dismissed her effortlessly, and you suddenly dreaded the conversation that was about to come, noting your slip up from a few nights before. 

"Y/N, I don't mean to pry, but I've been meaning to ask you about your relationship with Spencer." Your eyes opened wide as you blinked at him again for another second. 

"Hold on, you don't know?" He looked down at you with a furrowed brow, somehow thinking you'd both misunderstood the conversation and where it was headed. 

In all honesty, you'd jumped to the conclusion after his warning over the phone the day before that he'd known about your relationship with Spencer. It didn't really make all that much sense to you, but you thought he must've been your second witness, only because there were very few people with the power to keep Penelope Garcia silent. But now, you wondered if you'd been wrong.

"Don't know what? Y/N, I'm simply asking a question about your physical relationship with Reid and if you think it will color either of your judgements on cases." 

"Physical… oh my god." You begged the earth to swallow you whole at that point. 

"I'm correct in thinking you two had relations whilst we were staying in Las Vegas, am I not?" His brow stayed furrowed as he fished for more information.

"How… How did you know?" 

"Spencer babbled about Star Trek in the lobby that last morning in Vegas. He seemed nervous, and combined with your suspicious attitude, it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. Plants aren't great hiding spots, Y/N." 

"Oh god," you groaned again, a hand falling to your mouth to cover your shocked face as you took everything in. He'd practically known from the start, even if he hadn't really known. "So you want to know if we can be trusted to stay impartial in the field." 

"Simply put, yes, it is a concern of mine. The FBI technically frowns on casual hookups between employees, but in this case, if you can work professionally-" 

"We're married," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You almost enjoyed the shock on Aaron Hotchner's face as you dropped that bombshell, as momentary as it was. 

"That certainly…changes things." He considered your words for a moment before opening his mouth again. "We can talk about this in the office on Monday. For now, congratulations are in order." 

As you clicked your glasses together awkwardly, Rossi gathered everyone's attention, ready to begin the ceremony. You took your place next to Spencer and let him grab your hand and squeeze it for a moment, sharing a look before you turned your gaze back to JJ and watched as her mother walked her down the aisle to marry the love of her life. 

His hand in yours was warm and constant, and he held you so softly that you felt like you were floating. He'd been worried that morning that you'd feel slightly forlorn at the wedding ceremony. After all, you didn't have much of one, even if he'd promised you 100 do-overs and vow renewals. 

But standing here with him, you found yourself feeling thankful simply that he was there with you. Your wedding had been perfect, and you gladly applauded JJ and Will as they finally kissed at the altar, wishing them all the bliss that you felt in that moment. 

The party was a blast and you had an amazing time eating, drinking and dancing with all your guests, gladly taking the opportunity to hog Spencer for a few dances, enjoying how you were able to shamelessly cling to him with no one batting an eye. Your joy and laughter spilt out every time he swung you around and pulled you into him, abuzz with love. 

You were almost glad when JJ called you all in for a quick speech, grateful to let your feet have a rest - Spencer may have been dancing enthusiastically, but he was still Spencer, and your toes had been attacked a few times in the course of your few dances. 

"I want to say thank you for coming here tonight, and, of course, thank you, Rossi, for hosting this beautiful wedding. It's not every day we get to celebrate a wedding in the BAU, let alone two in one year, so I'm just thankful we got to come together to celebrate like this." 

Will looked perplexed by her side as she raised her flute to start the toast. 

"Hold on, who else got married?" 

Your eyes widened as you stopped your champagne flute by your lips, suddenly catching on to the thread of conversation. 

"Oh my god, it was you!" You shouted, jumping up and probably confusing every single guest in attendance. "JJ, you- you were the other witness!" You stood there shaking a pointed finger at her, semi shocked. 

"Witness to what?" Morgan asked tentatively, wondering what he'd been left out of for a second. 

"I guess the cats out the bag. Sorry, Spence." 

"Why are you apologising to Spencer? Who got married?" Derek's questions were going unanswered, though, as you blubbered in the middle of the crowd suddenly put the pieces together. 

"You know, the FBI really shot themselves in the foot when they let you go over to Homeland. You're good." You cracked a smile at JJ, and she smiled back, just as you felt a hand on your back. 

"We didn't want to announce it here and hijack your wedding, but since you kinda let it slip first, would you mind if we…?" Spencer vaguely gestured between you, just as JJ let him take the floor, her and Will standing off to the side as Spencer turned the both of you around to face the crowd. 

You tried to meet his gaze as he did  but his eyes stayed trained on the crowd in front of you instead. Still puzzled, he began to talk, and you listened. 

"Last month, we chose to get married in Las Vegas," he started and braced for impact as he looked out at the audience. "And- and it seems like most of you knew that?" He'd theorised that most of your team knew already, but he wasn't prepared for just how many of them stood looking back at him with a sheepish 'yes, we know' look on their faces. 

"Wait, how do so many of you know?" He glanced around the crowd, landing on Rossi's gloating face first. 

"Don't look at me kid, you told me about it, and I kept my mouth shut."

He turned to Emily next. "Y/N sent me a text meant for someone else, and I tortured the information out of her after that." 

Exasperated, he looked down at you before shaking his head and looking at Hotch. 

"I expressed some concerns about your… involvement earlier, and Y/N informed me about your relationship status." He explained, tone serious in that mocking way only he could carry off. 

"And I was there, and so was Penelope." JJ filled in the gaps, leaving you feeling particularly bashful at Spencer’s side.

In a second, though, you were consumed by giggles as Morgan whipped around on Penelope dramatically. 

"Et tu, baby girl? Am I seriously the only one who didn't know?" Morgan glanced around receiving pats on the back from the crowd as they slowly trickled back to the dance floor, picking up extra drinks as they went. 

"No, I'm there with you, Morgan. JJ didn't even tell me you guys were dating." Will said, looking genuinely taken aback once again. 

"Oh, well. That's probably because we didn't actually date. We just got married." You replied, feeling your face flood with heat as you stuttered the words out once again. 

"You're telling me I had to almost die to get JJ to agree to marry me, even after 7 years of dating and a child, and you managed to convince a woman to do it in one night in Vegas?" Will seemed genuinely impressed, and with a laugh, gave Spencer a clap on the back awkwardly as he offered his congratulations. 

Penelope led Morgan away to console him, and the other happy couple walked back to the dance floor again as well, leaving you in the arms of your husband, as you finally had to face your small mistakes. 

"So, Mrs. Reid, whatever happened to keeping this to ourselves for a while?" 

"Honest mistakes, both of them, I swear." He took your hands in his and pulled them up so he could kiss your wrists before gently dropping them and pulling you in at the waist. 

His mouth fell to your ears as he spoke again. 

"And I was so looking forward to using one of the methods we brainstormed the other night." You stood confused for a second as he pulled back to watch your expressions, your mouth twitching the second you realised what he meant. 

Ring. Motel. Loud sex. And breeding you until he knocked you up. 

Clearing your throat, you wrapped your arms up and around his shoulders, hanging yourself off him, putting yourself at his mercy as you fluttered your eyelashes up at him. 

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil your enjoyment now, would I? I'm sure we can still find the time to try those methods out." 

The excitement in his eyes was almost comical, and you genuinely yelped as he literally swept you off your feet. 

"Spencer, what are you doing? Put me down!" 

"No, you're coming home with me, Mrs. Reid. Sorry, it's official now. You're mine."

"And I'm not going to forget it easily, now put me down." 

"And let you go back on your promise to let me do some very dirty things to you? Never." 

With another startled squeak, he carried you through the crowd and right to the doors, carrying you all the way into your new life together.

At long last, your love had arrived, and he was carrying you away into your future.

🏷 @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @whovianwholikesgirls @doriantomybasil

[elfven-blog]

Two heads are better than one

Summary: Leon needs some help studying for his Police Academy exam RE2!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

CW: MDNI, 18+, Blowjob, teasing, cum swallowing (if I have forgotten any please let me know) Word count:1.3K

You heard another frustrated groan come from the small desk in the corner of the room, your head lifting from where it lay against the pillow of the bed to look at the cause of the noise. Your boyfriend. His blonde hair messed from the constant running of his fingers, his other hand scribbling something on the notepad before him as he huffed. Clearly the frustration of revising for his POST exams was getting to him more and more. You watched him for a moment longer, his head down as his shoulders hunched over and the sound of paper turning before the pen scratched against the pad again.

With a small smile and a shake of your own head, an idea formed in your mind. The bed creaked as you stood from it and Leon tilted his head in your direction before focusing back on the notes in front of him. A groan sounding around the room as his hand rubbed at his eyes. He jumped slightly when your arms wrapped around his broad frame before he leant back into you. Head resting on his shoulder as his blue eyes found your own. So tired, he looked so tired.

“Maybe take a break?” your voice showed a hint of concern as a hand soothed at his cheek, his face nuzzling into your palm as his eyes closed and he sighed before shaking his head. Your brow furrowed, well if that wouldn’t work. “How about I help instead? Maybe you need something other than just reading your notes?”

Leon’s eyes opened with a puzzled look taking over his face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thought about your words. He didn’t think long before nodding in agreement, maybe he did need to do something other than just reading the notes…that obviously wasn’t working.

He watched as you moved him, allowing you to pull the chair back and he moved his arms expecting you to slide right into his lap. His brows furrowing more as you ignored the invitation, a pout growing on his lips. But as you slide down the floor between his legs and the realisation at what you were doing hit him, his blue eyes sparked with arousal.

He leant back in his desk chair, legs spreading further apart, and Leon swallowed the saliva gathered in his mouth as your hands unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down his thighs. Lifting his hips to make it easier for you to do so. “Hand me your notes” a noise of confusion left him but he did exactly as you asked, and watched as you read them while nodding your head. You looked up at him, a grin on your face as you read a passage before asking “What do you believe the nature of the crime to be?”

With a tilt of his head the confusion returned to Leons eyes again, were you not going to? Why did you need to undress him if you were just testing him? His voice tilted with confusion as he responded “Fraud?” a gasp left his mouth and his hands gripped at the arm rests as your fingers traced the outline of his cock through his boxers.

“That’s right, good boy” Oh, that’s what you were doing. His eyes stayed focused on you as his breathing got heavier, almost missing your next question with his attention on how quickly he was filling out in his boxers “Focus baby, what of the following best describes the fifth amendment?” Leon tries his hardest to pay attention to what you’re saying, suddenly wanting to do so much better than he had before.

“Um, its D” his whines as you pull his boxers down, resting the band under his balls “He’s already been, fuck, he’s already been tried and found innocent” Your hand moves to tease the head of his cock, precum already drooling down the skin. His thigh tense as he stops himself from bucking into your hand, fingers digging into the plush of the armrests as his head falls back and your thumb swipes of the slit and gathering the leaking precum to make it easier to wrap your hand around the hot skin.

“That’s good baby, you’re doing so well” Your voice is teasing, and it takes everything in him not to pull you out from under the desk so he can show you how well he’s handling this. You hum as you look at his notes before asking the next question “Which code signals a bank alarm?” Ah code alarms, something he wasn’t the best at remembering those. Especially with his girlfriend’s hand squeezing at the base of his cock.

He stutters for a minute before managing to get the answer out, but when you stop your hand and pull away slightly Leon lets out a loud whine and your eyes dart up to him “That one was wrong, try again” You pull your hand away and he reacts without thinking, hips bucking up as his hand pulls yours back to his cock. With an eyebrow raise and a shake of your head, he drops your hand and sitd back down on to the chair.

The pout grows back on his lips “Please baby, need you so bad” the teasing hum you let out his torturous as you hand feathers up the hot skin of his cock, fingers coated. The flush of his cheeks and how his breath deepened as you teased at the fat head caused slick to gather between your thighs as you shushed him. Your other hand drops the notes, deciding he’d studied enough and that it was time to reward him for his hard work.

Leon groaned as you leant forward, biting his lip as his hips rut up causing the tip of his cock to push past your lips. His balls feel heavy as you gently roll them in your one hand, the other still jerking him off as your tongue teases at his head. His head falls back and eyes close as his hips keep bucking up, forcing you to take him further into your mouth and down your throat. You try not to gag from the sudden stretch as you taste at his precum.

It’s not long before Leons lost himself in the feel of your mouth around him, hands tangling in your hair as he pushed you down and this time you do gag around him. Only causing moans to drip from his lips as he fucks his cock into your mouth “ ‘m sorry, just feels so good, just stay there and let me okay?” Your hand keeps playing with his balls, you can feel how big they’ve gotten from the stimulation, and you massage them as his thighs tense next to you.

He's practically a mess above you, drool down his chin and his cock twitching in your mouth as he uses you “Feels so good, really needed this, thank you so much” His pace speeds up until he’s practically off the seat while his hands hold your head still before he pulls back so you can take in deep breaths “Doing so well princess, taking in me in” and then he’s pushing back into your mouth.

With one final push of your head so that your nose pressed to his pubic hair and you had taken his cock all the way down your throat, Leon finished with heavy ropes of cum coating your mouth and sliding down your throat before his grip loosened and you could pull yourself off him. Some of the mix of saliva and cum drooled out your mouth before you could swallow it, Leon only wiped it away with his thumb before pushing his thumb past your lips so you could lick it clean and swallow the rest. “Thanks sweetheart really needed that”.

Maybe you should help him with his academy training more often.

[sunflowersteves]

Could you write about Carmen getting your name tatted on his chest ? 🫶

yes I can, babes 😌

warnings || tattoos, absolutely pure fluff, making out, mentions of anxiety, not edited

masterlist

Carmen let out a deep breath, nerves prickling his skin, as he started to open the door of your apartment. His fingers from his other hand nervously tapped against the side of his thigh, all due to the anxiety that settled into his bones.

What if you hated it? What if you found it disgusting? Would you hate him?

The endless questions and unknown reactions flooded his head. It started to make him dizzy as he padded off into the living room.

“Baby?” He called out. His voice had a edge to it that made him want to cringe.

“In here, lovebug.” Instantly, he could feel his shoulders relax. The soft, caressing sound of your voice had silenced almost all of those trepidatious thoughts. Almost.

He barely moved an inch from where he stood. He knew your voice echoed from the bedroom, but his body refused to move. As always, his flight or fight response wanted to hone in on flight.

He took another deep breath. “Carmy?” You say. It was so soft and sweet that it melted his insides. Concern was evident by his lack of appearance and response.

This is so stupid. He was so stupid.

His mouth clamped shut. It was as if his body couldn’t quite catch up to his brain—which was racing a mile per minute. His finger continued to tap the side of his thigh.

You found yourself walking out into the living room, eyebrows furrowed. “Carmy baby, what’s the matter?”

You gently caress his jaw and it takes everything inside of him not to reach out. He wants to sit lovingly on the couch with your body on top of his, all while you watch some show.

More than half of the time he’s not even paying attention. His mind is either concocting a new recipe or thinking about how good your weight feels on top of him. His thoughts are all food or you.

“I have s-something to show you.” He curses inwardly at the stuttering of his voice. He hated how nervous he was for this.

It’s just you. Miraculously and amazing you.

Your eyebrows are furrowed once more, but your soft touch never wavers. He forces himself to take a big breath, eyes avoiding your stare.

He slowly takes off his white t-shirt. His hands shake as he pulls it over his head. His gold chain thumps against his chest and your eyes lowered. Then they lower again.

You let out a gasp. It was loud and shocking as it echoed against the apartment walls. “Oh, Carmy.” You whisper.

He sucks in a breath—anxiety toppling over as he spills his feelings. “W-well, uh, I know I said I was getting that arm piece. Like-like we talked about, you know? But then I-I started thinking and all I ever really wanted was you. So-so, yeah.” His hand was furiously pushing through his curls through the entire speech.

Your eyes are just glued to his chest. He gulps, hating the complete silence. However, you were just in awe.

Right on the center of where his heart is supposed to be was your initials in black ink. Your initials. The tattoo outlined in red from the irritated skin.

“Do you like it?” He says. He thought it was going to seem confident but the waver of his vocal cords say otherwise.

You finally look up into his eyes. You could’ve sworn you could stare at it for years. You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out. Your heart pounds against your ears—his too. Having to wait for your response was torturous.

Instead of words, your body flings itself onto his. Your mouth slides over his and molds together as one. Your hands find themselves into his hair and pull. It was as if there was some switch that went off in your head. All you wanted, needed, and cared for right now was Carmen.

He pours out a moan when his tongue pushes between your lips and collides with yours. He could taste the leftover peppermint soufflé that you had after lunch. God, you tasted like fucking heaven.

You pull away before getting ahead of yourself. Carmen needed to go back to the restaurant for the night rush, but you wanted to pounce on him right then and there—give him kisses for a life time.

He laughs, which causing a chuckle to bubble from your own chest too.

“I fucking love it, Carmy.” You huff out. You were quite breathless from the kiss.

His eyes sparkle as his hands squeeze your waist. “Yeah?”

You nod, eyes looking glossed over. You were drunk on him—on Carmy.

“Yeah, lovebug. I might have to get one for myself. A C.B. just for you.”

He finally smiles, bright and toothy. His heart beats faster than ever, but now, it’s for a different reason.

“Sounds perfect, baby. Just perfect.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

exclude - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 441

"How dare you?" Regulus asked furiously, tears threatening to spill over his eyes, storming into the living room where James lay on the couch.

"Ah-What?" James asked thickly, eyes still closed, jolting up from his nap.

Regulus snorted, hands on his hips and rage in his expression. "How dare you have lunch with Barty without me? My best friend? Why, James?"

James sat up, now, rubbing his eyes and staring up at his boyfriend in absolute bewilderment. "Wh-what? Wait...How'd you find out?"

"How did I-?" Regulus repeated a bit hysterically. "It doesn't matter! It's a bit weird! I got a, owl from Evan wondering why we excluded him from lunch, only to find out that you and Barty went on a date by yourselves?"

James was awake, now, and very concerned for everyone involved in this conversation. "It wasn't a date, Reg, I swear-"

"Then how do you explain all this? Merlin, James, I knew you would lose interest someday, but my best friend?" Regulus asked again, tears spilling over, now.

And James had to admit, it looked bad. He and Barty never got lunch alone. Worse, he'd kept it a secret. Plus, it was Regulus's biggest fear- that James would leave, or cheat, or 'realize he could do better' (Reg's words, not James's).

So, knowing he wouldn't be able to dig himself out of this hole without the truth, he reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. "I wanted to show him this."

Regulus instantly froze. His hand moved to cover his mouth and he began to shake. Instead of anger and betrayal, his face now shone with confusion and disbelief, eyes wide as saucers. "What...James...what? ....That's not...?"

James smiled softly, opening the box to reveal the engagement ring inside, a simple black band with small diamonds inlaid throughout. "I wanted your best friend's opinion. Before I proposed."

Regulus let out a small sound that seemed like a mixture of a sob, gasp, and snort, but didn't move from where he was standing above James.

From his seat on the couch, James started to feel a bit nervous. "Er...Reg?"

"Well....I guess that's alright, then," Regulus whispered after another beat.

James let out a breath of relief. "Yeah?" he asked, chuckling.

"Yes," Regulus answered, appearing to collect himself a little. "But..." his voice gained some strength and a business-like tone, "talk to Dorcas or Remus about proposal plans. They have a much better taste for romance." And with that he turned, heading out of the room.

James stood, staring incredulously after his boyfriend. "Wait...you're not saying yes?"

"You haven't proposed yet, Potter!"

[daisyofwaterdeep]

[Accidental Confessions]

!NSFW! Rolan/Femcis Reader Mutual Pining, Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Sex 5.3k

Rolan accidentally spills a love potion on himself. When you come to visit him, he can't hold himself back.

~~~ Being an employee at Sorcerous Sundries has it's perks--getting to hang out with Loroakan's new apprentice being one of them. You often muster up the courage to chat with Rolan during work hours, and though he seems stiff and nervous at first, he quickly warms to the environment. But when the beatings start, he starts withdrawing again. You try to talk to him about it, you show concern and worry, but he bats it all down with a few curt words. It absolutely breaks your heart. And then Loroakan dies. Rolan is busier than ever--you hardly ever see him at the ground floor, but that's fine by you, because when you do see him, he's happy. Tired and overworked, sure, but so happy that your heart aches with your own happiness. You do get a chance to chat with Cal and Lia quite often, and you live off of the scraps that they nonchalantly give you about their brother. How he can be quite stubborn. How he's a picky eater. How he snores. All of these tiny little glimpses of Rolan, filling out your fantasies of what life could be like, if only you had the courage to actually confess. When Cal and Lia are out of town, though, you try to check on Rolan a few times a day, bringing him food and drink, because you know he would forget to nourish himself otherwise. Even though he's neck deep in work, he always expresses appreciation with a soft smile during these moments. You tell yourself that it's all you need.

But one of these visits goes quite differently.

You worry your hands over your dress one last time before you go through the portal, a tray of tea and cake in hand (you always try to indulge Rolan's sweet tooth when you can). Rolan doesn't appear to be on the first floor, and a quick glance at the desks on the various balconies brings up nothing. Wondering if he may have slipped out while you were busy downstairs, you carefully make your way up the nearest set of stairs to get a better look, pondering if you should call out his name.

But then you hear him-- a low, pained groan, followed by hurried breathing. Your head turns to the sound, and you spot a pair of feet from behind several stacks of books on the ground.

"Master Rolan?" You hurry over, tea sloshing. It looks that he had been removing all the books from one of the shelves, likely to sort and catalog them. Did he fall and hurt himself?

Worry clots your throat as you round the stacks and he fully comes into view at your feet. He's got his back propped against the half-empty bookshelf, his legs sprawled out in front of him, his hands clawing weakly at his robes. And his face-- well, you don't really know what to make of it. He looks to be in pain, but even with his furrowed brow and panting mouth, you know in your core that that's not entirely correct.

"R-Rolan!" You nearly throw the tray down as you fall to your knees beside him, hands fluttering over his heaving chest, not sure what's going on or what you can do to help.

Rolan's eyes flick up, as if only just noticing your presence. The rest of his body seems desperate, out of control, but his eyes...they're assured, steady, unblinking. And, you note with a chill, they're almost entirely black. His pupils have blown so wide that only the smallest sliver of gold rings around them, like an eclipse. "You," Rolan gasps, his hands stopping their incessant grabbing of his own clothes to grab at you instead, "Of course it's you..." He gives a short bark of a laugh that dwindles into a breathy sigh as his arms wrap around your back, drawing you close with a surprising strength, "It's always been you, hasn't it?" Being pulled into an impromptu hug by Rolan would have sent you into a tizzy in any other circumstance, but right now you know that you can't be distracted by your own feelings. Something is wrong, very wrong, and Rolan isn't in his right mind. What was he even talking about? Are you the cause of this, somehow?

"M-Master Rolan," You try to pull free from his grip, and as much as it pains you mentally to do such a thing, it seems to be nothing compared to the wounded sound that Rolan makes when you finally wrestle free.

"Please," Rolan begs, dark eyes never leaving yours, his hands still on your sides, "Don't leave me, I--" Rolan bares his teeth as he fights to catch his breath, "Something...something's wrong."

The absolute desperation written across his face has your own breath struggling to come and go.

"What happened?" As you say it you grab his hands, ignoring the little thrill it gives you, and hold them between the two of you. "Talk to me, Rolan. Are you hurt?"

"Hurt..." Rolan's head hangs but his eyes are still on your face, as if it's his duty to look at you, "It hurts, yes--" He groans, a mixture of pain and aggravation, and his back arches away from the bookcase as he draws your hands to his chest with a near painful grip. "Please touch me, touch me..."

You're too flabbergasted to fight back as your hands are forcibly dragged down his torso. Rolan moans at the contact, as if the touch is all that he's needed. Even through the fabric of his robes, you can feel him-- the hard ridges of his infernal ribcage, then the softness of his stomach, and then-- You yank your hands away before they get lower, heat flooding your face and cold waves of shock wracking your frame.

He's turned on. The revelation smashes into you like a hammer to the back of the head. There's no way, right? Rolan, strong, proud, perfect Rolan is currently writhing beside you with need. Your crush, your infatuation, your beautiful, unattainable daydream of a man...There's no way that he's currently drawing your hands back down, bringing them to the distinct outline that presses from under his robes, and it even gives a twitch as he catches you noticing it.

"Please?" Rolan's voice is nothing but a hoarse whisper as he stops your hands right above his erection, "Please, just...a little, I only need a little bit..." His hands squeeze your own as he pleads.

Your body is covered in goosebumps and you can feel your thundering heartbeat in your throat...and between your legs. But despite that, you know you can't take advantage of the situation. It would be too easy to give in, to touch him in all the ways you've fantasized, but you know just how wrong that would be. Because you know there’s something else at play here. Rolan isn’t like this–he would never lose his faculties in such a way.

"I-I can't."

His face goes slack, a look of completely devastated disbelief. You squeeze his hands back, trying to ignore the pang of guilt at making him look so, so heartbreakingly sad.

"Rolan, please listen." You clear your throat as his eyes look unwaveringly into yours. "You're not yourself. You don't want me. You're under the influence of something--a spell, or maybe a potion..."

Rolan shakes his head as you speak, first softly, then with more force, denying everything that you say.

"Yes, Rolan." You say firmly. "Please, I need you to think. You were clearing this shelf before I came in, weren't you? Did you open an odd book, scroll, anything?"

"No, you need to listen." The helpless desperation that Rolan's been soaked in up until this point disappears in an instant. His body stiffens as he sits up, sharp claws digging into the tender skin of your wrists as he pulls your hands to his chest. You can feel the hectic speed of his heart. "I want you," He groans and licks his lips, eyes darting down to your mouth for a brief moment before locking back onto your eyes with a fiery resolve, "I've wanted you for so long." He grimaces, eyes glossy with emotion, "Please. Please believe me."

Oh, he's making this very, very difficult. The sincerity that drips from every word threatens to swallow you into this fantasy-- but that's what this is. Some manufactured fantasy spun by some incredibly potent magic.

But even still, your resolve is wearing down, and fast.

You have to get help, but the risk of ruining Rolan's reputation puts you in a very tricky predicament. You can't go and fetch just anyone. If word gets out about this, Rolan would surely be embarrassed. Perhaps Tolna is still downstairs...she might be able to help?

You raise up on one knee, making to leave, but your foot connects with something on the floor. You snap your head to the side just in time to see a potion bottle roll unceremoniously across the carpet. It's uncorked, but the tapered neck has kept some of the contents inside-- a nearly translucent pink liquid sloshes inside of it before it connects with the handrail of the stairs with a small clink.

So it was a potion, after all. Even if you knew that Rolan was under the influence of something, there's the tiniest part of you that feels hurt. Crushed by your own naivety. Even if you know that it's a ludicrous notion--Rolan would never bother with someone like you, and even if he did, it certainly wouldn't be like this-- there was some thread of hope there, somewhere deep in your heart, that maybe he really did feel something for you.

But of course not. Ridiculous. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Did you drink that?" You turn back to Rolan and try to gesture to the bottle with your hand, but Rolan still has it in a death-grip. You nod towards it with your head instead. "Why would you do something like that?"

"What?" Rolan huffs, eyes never leaving your face, "What are you...?" He grimaces and tugs at your hands, a note of frustration furrowing his brow, "Are you teasing me?" That causes a flicker of happiness to light up his face, easing the tension from his jaw, "You're toying with me, aren't you?" And again his face shifts, taking on that serious edge of desperation he had before, his voice falling to an intimate hush, "You want me to beg for you, don't you? I can beg for you, if that's what you wish--whatever you want."

He's hardly making any sense-- you're really not sure if he's just too far gone to remember, or if he really didn't drink it. You can't think of why he would take such a potent love potion, so perhaps it fell on him while he was clearing the shelf....that makes far more sense. And with Loroakan being the bastard that he was, it doesn't surprise you in the slightest that he'd have something so nefarious on hand.

The story starts to fall into place, as well as a course of action. You need to take the potion bottle downstairs. Hopefully Tolna will still be at her counter, but if not, you can run over to the nearby apothecary. Once the potion is identified, you can get an antidote, and then everything will be okay.

But first...you have to pry yourself free from Rolan. That might be the most monumental task of all. But you have a little plan for that as well.

"Rolan," He perks up as you say his name, a small, hopeful smile shaking on his lips. "I need you to stay here, okay?"

"No." This smile disappears just as quickly as it had appeared. He shakes his head like a petulant child, sweating palms pressing your hands more firmly against his chest, "You're not leaving me."

"Just for a moment," You assure him, forcing a calm, even tone. "You said you'd do anything for me, didn't you?"

"Not this," Rolan frowns so hard that his chin dimples and his eyes shine with desperation. You realize that he's on the verge of tears. "Y-you can't leave me..." His eyes rake over your face, looking for any shred of mercy, before he hoarsley croaks out, "Please."

Oh gods. This might not just be a monumental task--it's shaping up to be an impossible one.

It's time to switch gears. Playing the calm, collected one isn't getting you a single inch, but playing his game might get you somewhere.

And it's for Rolan's sake. Completely for his sake. You aren't doing it for your own desires. Just merely...playing the game.

"Listen to me...darling." Your voice trembles at the edges and prickles of heat bloom on your face and chest, "I need you to be good and stay right here." You swallow thickly before adding, "You want to be good for me, don't you?"

The groan that leaves Rolan nearly fogs your brain completely over. He leans his head back against the shelf, his horns clacking dully against the wood and his adam's apple jerking roughly as the noise from his throat dwindles into a low, needy whine.

"Please," He pants, body rolling up in a pseudo-thrust before collapsing back to the ground in a mess of shivers, "Good boy...I'm your good boy..."

Such a simple phrase, and such a strong reaction...the excitement that wracks through your body is so potent that you actually feel numb.

No. No. You have to rein yourself in. You can't let yourself get swept up in Rolan's condition. If you took advantage of him right now, he would never forgive you. Fuck, you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself.

"Th-that's right." You hurriedly say, mouth dry, "Be good for me, and stay right here." The squeak of your voice diminishes any sort of authority you hope to convey, but it's the best you can muster.

You've still got one foot on the floor and make to stand up fully, hoping the action will finally pry your hands free of Rolan's grasp--

"No!"

The force of the word is only matched by the force of which you're pushed back, tumbling to the floor unceremoniously and landing on your bottom. A shocked exclamation leaves you, but it's jerked from your lungs as Rolan pounces you, his full weight knocking you flat on the floor and pinning you.

All at once, the dynamic has shifted into something far more dangerous. Rolan's hair is falling out of it's neatly styled coif and frames his face as he looks down at you, a predatory glaze shining in his dark eyes. With his hair obscuring the light on his face, the angles look much more severe, and the gold of his irises damn near glow with their intensity.

What do you do? Do you fight back? Cold, brittle panic rises in your throat as you realize just what sort of position you're in. His hands are on either side of you, caging you in, and your legs have been rendered useless with his knees between them.

"Don't leave me," Even if his position gives him dominance, his voice is still pleading, desperate. "I-I need you. So please..."

"Rolan," You say carefully, voice tight, "Don't do anything you'll regret." You think to put your hands on his chest to keep him at bay, but fear touching him might send him into a frenzy.

"Regret...?" Rolan searches your face, trying to glean more understanding but seeming to come up short. "I don't regret adoring you."

He truly doesn't seem to understand the situation he's put you in. And perhaps you don't either, because your heart beats faster at his words, magic-induced as they may be. The initial fear you felt is now melting away into an uncertain excitement-- Rolan is on top of you, his knees pressed against your inner thighs, his lips parted and eyes glimmering with admiration. How many times have you dreamt of just this? How easy it would be to believe his sweet words, to believe that the man above you truly does want you.

"You don't." You're not sure if you're saying it more for his sake or yours. "Rolan, you don't adore me. You've been drugged and aren't thinking clearly." The words taste bitter, but you suppose truth often can be.

Rolan growls in frustration, and you hear his tail smack against something behind him.

"Why don't you believe me?" There's tension in his face, but it loosens as he shakes his head slowly, "What do I need to say for you to believe me?"

"You don't--"

"I do." Rolan drops from his hands onto his forearms, bringing your faces mere inches apart, "Fiercely."

Feeling his hot breath mixing with your own has your mind clouding over. All you can muster is the same two words.

"You don't..."

"Every day I look forward to you bringing me tea. To the point that I've been getting less work done, just waiting to see you." Rolan exhales harshly, in something like a disbelieving laugh, "Sometimes, I'll come downstairs just to watch you work. Just to catch another glimpse of you."

There's been plenty of times when you've been in the shop and caught him on the second floor balcony, but had he really been watching you? You'd always be too flustered to do nothing more than a cursory look before awkwardly continuing your work.

You don't have time to ponder it for too long because Rolan pushes on, his eyes commanding your attention with their fiery glow.

"I spend so many days sitting at my desk thinking of your smile....gods, and your laugh." He smiles at the memory, a soft, tender look that makes your stomach tumble, "The way your nose crinkles when you're really laughing. And the way you always fuss with your hair after you set a stack of books down."

Do you really do that?

Rolan's smile eases away. "And during everything with Loroakan, you always made sure I ate. And the washbasin under the desk-- you put that there for me, didn't you? So I could clean up after his beatings." His jaw clenches and a brief storminess darkens his eyes before softening, "You cared for me during that time, even when I pushed you away… I was horrible to you."

"You weren't horrible," You whisper, afraid your emotion will break your voice if you raise it any higher than this, "You were going through a lot."

He had been talking so coherently that you had almost forgotten the current situation, but reality comes crashing back when he whines deep in his throat and his body rocks above you.

"I don't deserve you," Rolan's body trembles and his eyes shine as they glance down at your lips, "You've shown me such kindness, and in return, I do nothing but defile you in my thoughts..."

His words catch you off guard to such an extent that you gasp--a breathy, deep noise that ignites Rolan's eyes. You've made a mistake. A very, very bad one.

"That's right," Rolan is matching your whisper now, body still impatiently rocking above you, "Every night I lie in bed thinking of you. Aching for you. You, under me... just like this." A groan rumbles deep in his chest and his nostrils flare, "Imagining how you'd say my name as I touch you. Taste you--" He practically hisses the word out as his body trembles, "Fucking my hand, wishing it was your pretty cunt stretched around me..."

"Rolan--" You practically wheeze, liquid fire rushing into your stomach as your hips jerk up from the floor, like they have a mind of their own.

"Yessss, ahh-- j-just like that," Rolan's eyes roll closed and his chest brushes yours as he lowers down. When his eyes flick back open, he almost seems like a different man. Starved-- that's the word that comes to your mind, and it's an apt one, with the way the tip of his tongue dips out and curls, as if tasting the air between you two. "Again...say it again."

Don't. Don't do it. Do not stoke the fire. The warning’s buzzing through your brain, but there's a larger presence in your thoughts, chanting for him to do something. To prove that he wants you. To make good on all of his sordid fantasies. Even if it's all a lie, even if it's the potion's spell, you want it. Even if you shouldn't, you do. But somehow, you're still hanging on by the thinnest of threads.

When it's clear that you aren't going to say his name, Rolan whines deep in his throat and you can hear his claws scrape against the carpet on either side of you. It seems that he's holding onto the same thread.

"Please," Rolan leans down and brushes a heated kiss against your lips, "Fuck, please--" Another kiss, "Please, please..."

He's kissing you. It's not a daydream, even if the warmth and softness of his lips don't feel real to you. All you can do is lay there, slack, your brain rapid-firing with the sensations. The hot, hurried puffs of his breath from his mouth. The tickles of his hanging hair on the sides of your cheeks. The press of his perfect nose against the side of your own.

Even if your shock-induced limpness is both involuntary and possibly the best course of action, it backfires on you almost immediately.

As Rolan's kisses grow firmer, his lips push yours open, making the wetness of your inner lip catch on his own. That little touch of heated moisture has Rolan mewling, and all at once, his tongue is inside your mouth.

Your eyes fly open (wait, when had they closed?) and your hands come up to Rolan's chest to push him away, but his muscles are taut and he's locked in place, his hot, hungry tongue pressing past your teeth to lick along your own tongue. The muffled sound you make is a mixture of panic and surprise, but Rolan seems to take it as pleasure with the way he moans in response.

But maybe he's not too far off the mark. Even if you want to deny it, his tongue is divine. The way it tastes, the velvet feel of it, the way it pushes in deep before pulling away with a wet roll of his lips, only to enter you again. It's like your mouth is being fucked by him, and it's all you can do to not tip completely into ecstacy.

"Stop--" You try to break the kiss by turning your head, but his mouth only finds the curve of your neck, "Stop, Ro--aah!" His sharp bottom teeth drag roughly under your jaw before being soothed with a hot, desperate lick. "Stop," You gasp, though your hands ball into his robes, begging him not to, "R-Rolan, you have to--"

Your words choke off into a shameful whine as Rolan finally gives in and lowers his body to press against yours. He slots in perfectly between your legs, his hard cock pressed firm against your aching sex. The both of you stiffen and freeze, as if mesmerized by the mutual throbbing you can feel from underneath your clothes.

"O-oh," Rolan almost looks drunk with the way his head sways and his eyes glaze over, "Oh g-gods...I can't--"

It should be a comfort to hear. At the brink of ruin, Rolan has managed to regain himself. But the sigh you let out--from relief or disappointment, you're not sure which-- is cut off on a choked gasp as Rolan yanks the bottom of your dress up.

"Wait--" Your hands fall between you both, tangling in your dress as you try to pull it back down, "Wait, R-Rolan!"

It's like he can no longer hear you. His shaking hands push the front of his robe to the side and nearly snaps the lacings of his pants as he tears them open. You only get a glimpse of his cock before he thrusts his hips forward, rubbing the heated length of it against your panties. But what a glimpse it was-- thick, ridged, and damn near maroon with how blood-swollen it is.

Your mind reels as you're assaulted both physically and mentally with Rolan's body. The heavy drag of his erection against your clothed pussy. The soft scrape of teeth and wet heat of his tongue trailing down your neck to your chest. And the sounds Rolan is making-- he's groaning with such intensity that it rumbles in your ribs.

"I can't..." Rolan says again, but after another grumbling moan, he finally finds the remainder of his words, "I can't hold back anymore..." He raises his head with a lust-drunk sway to lock eyes with you once more, his brow bunched with his desperation and loose strands of his hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his forehead "I need you--fuck, I need you."

You want to get lost in those words, to savor the soft, needy delivery of them, to pretend that they were said under less dire circumstances, but you have no time for any of that. Because as soon as Rolan says it, his hand darts between you both and yanks your panties to the side and then you feel the maddening heat of his cock against the bare wetness of your pussy.

You try to cry out, but the sudden blast of fear racking through you grips your throat, only allowing a pitiful squeak to escape.

Please--" Rolan begins rutting into you, hips grinding fast and hungry, spreading your lips with his ministrations and easily gliding through the slick that's drenched your sex, "Wet, oh gods, so fucking wet--" He's babbling now, his words shifting between low groans and high, tight whimpers, "Wet for me-- you need this too, don't you? You need me...oh gods, need me to fuck you, f-fuck your pretty cunt, please--"

The head of his cock catches on your entrance, and you feel a pulse of hot liquid shoot from him, dribbling down your ass. Then all at once, he's inside you. It happens at a dizzying speed-- the deep burn of being stretched quick and full, the hot gush of semen, the snapping hips dragging you across the carpet in hiccuped jumps, the claws that grab and tear and sting your arms, all the while Rolan weeps, crumbling his body weight entirely on you.

"No," Rolan gasps in big, aching breaths as he sobs into your shoulder, "Nonono, I c-can't--" Hot tears fall on your neck, "Forgive me, p-please, forgive me--"

He raises his head and looks at you, his face twisted in equal parts despair and adoration, wet tear streaks carving shining paths down his gaunt cheeks. It's a direct contrast to the beastial breeding of his hips-- lovestruck emotion against mindless, animalistic instinct. And there's pain there, too. He came almost immediately, but his body just won't let him stop. His cock is still stiff and slamming into your cunt, the wetness of your sexes sucking and slapping lewdly under the chorus of his whimpers and cries.

A sob of your own retches from your throat. It's all too much. Even if it hurts, the churn of his desperate hips grinds against your clit with delicious abandon. And the way his hard cock curves and roughly drags inside of you, reaching so much farther than fingers ever could, stroking your walls with greedy need. It's all terrible in the most exquisite way-- the pain a sear, but the pleasure a rolling wave of heat that grows thicker and deeper with every thrust.

You're disgusted with yourself, even as you wrap your arms around Rolan's back and your heart sings with the warmth of his cheek against your own. You shouldn't be enjoying this. It was your responsibility to not let things get this far. But you wanted it. From the moment you knew what was happening, a part of you wanted exactly this. To have him cling onto you and tell you all the sweet things you've fantasized about countless times. To fuck you.

"Sorry," Your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper as the heated tension in your gut begins tipping through your body-- "I-I'm so s-sorry, R-Rolan--"

And then your world shatters away as your orgasm is wrenched from you. Every synapse in your brain goes cold and your body shakes and tightens, his name cried out through numb lips as you clench hard around him, your body as desperate as your mind to keep him right where he is. Rolan. Rolan. Rolan. Every part of your being is consumed by him in that moment, and nothing else matters. Nothing else exists, other than him.

"That's it," Rolan's voice finds you in your pleasure-haze and enhances it with it's sweet tremble, "That's it, yes--fuck, ahh-- please, love you," He buries himself in you and stills, lips meeting yours as he babbles and his cock twitches and throbs deep in your cunt, "I love you, o-oh-- love you, please--"

Your climax had begun it's descent, but the feeling of those words sighed into your mouth makes another rush of rapture overtake you. You're only somewhat aware of the way you mewl, a wounded noise that dwindles and rises as your tongue finds Rolan's once more. Even with the hard edge of his desires satisfied, Rolan kisses you with no less passion, his moans of relief rattling your bones with their sheer intensity.

You could happily lay there kissing him like this for eternity, but now that the warmth of your desire is ebbing away, reality is setting back in. Disgust curdles in your stomach, sapping away any last dredges of an afterglow that remained.

You turn your head to break the kiss and Rolan pulls back, his eyes still uncharacteristically dark but more level than they had been since you found him. But with the beginning return of his facilities, you can't help but feel that he looks...lost. You can see the weight of the situation slowly creeping over him-- the distress. But even still, there's still heat behind those despairing eyes. The understanding of what's happening, but not the strength to stop himself.

"D...do you feel better?" You croak out, your throat feeling a wreck.

Rolan's lips move, but his voice fails him. For the first time, his eyes willingly leave your face, focusing instead on the carpet beside you. "It...hurts." He finally manages, his words so soft that they're almost inaudible.

That's enough to finally move you into action. Your entire body aches as you gently guide him off of you, the both of you hissing as his cock slips from you with a wet squelch. Rolan makes no effort to get up, instead rolling onto his back to look up at the high ceiling of the tower. You can't help but think that he looks gorgeous like this--chest heaving, hair in disarray, cock still twitching and stiff and slick with you. And then the disgust comes back and propels you to your feet.

"Sorry," You stammer, a fresh bout of tears threatening to spill down your face, "I'll...I'll get help."

Rolan whines deep in the back of his throat before he can stop himself. He drapes a hand over his eyes, like he wishes to shut out the world.

"Please," He gasps, voice gravelly with suppressed emotion, "Hurry."

You start to walk down the stairs you had ascended only shortly before. Each trembling step you take brings you a fraction more into reality. Regret, horror, revulsion....they build in your gut with each passing moment. By the time you make it to the other side of the portal, you're running from the tower, wishing you had never gone up to begin with.