#and i fucking trusted him!! why the fuck did i have to be so SO WRONG

[majoryeager104]

Number One Girl In Your Eyes

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You’ve liked Katsuki since you first met him, and yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you, even though it’s obvious how much that hurts you.

A/n; Reader high-key acts like me so if you’re an overthinking hopeless romantic I gotchu <3

Warnings: angst with a sweet ending

1.4k word count

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You'd been in his atmosphere for ages. Hours spent in classrooms, training, or just talking in the dorms, you'd always been there. And yet it seemed like he never looked your way, even though it also seemed you were always looking his.

What a foolish thing, love. Riveting and torturous, always getting in the way of your thoughts, seeping through the cracks in your resolve like water poured down a sink, draining every other emotion until the only thing flooding your brain was him.

Or maybe this was something else. Maybe this was some other form of longing, jealousy, or maybe even loathing. Maybe the real reason that narrow gaze made you flush was because you hated the man, and no one would blame you for it. He was stubborn and mean and abrasive and cruel, a personality to match the quirk. And yet you were drawn in nonetheless.

Love or loathing, it didn't matter. He didn't care anyways. He never noticed your stares, he didn't care for your compliments when you'd give them on just how cool you thought his quirk was, and he certainly didn't notice you sitting there right next to him, silently pleading that he just look at you.

The common room was filled with chatter and laughing, your friends on the couch to your left. Mina had made sure that you'd end up with the seat next to Katsuki, smiling at you as she made her millionth attempt to play matchmaker. But today you were too tired for the antics, so you just sat quietly drinking some water, never letting your eyes linger too long on the boy next to you.

It was a weekend, and yet you and the rest of class 1-A had trained for hours, working yourselves to the bone. Your arms and legs felt so numb that it was one of the only things you could think about. One of, not the, because you were also thinking about the way Katsuki had so casually slung his arm over the back of the couch behind you while talking with Kirishima.

Mina giggled at you when you met her eyes, she'd noticed it almost as quick as you did, but she pretended otherwise when Katsuki glanced at her, wondering just what was so funny. You kept you gaze down, trying to block off your thoughts, block off Mina's stifled laughs, block off Katsuki fucking Bakugo as those narrow eyes landed on you too.

But that voice was something that you couldn't block off.

"You did good today" he said bluntly, and you blinked up at him, your resolve broken under his long awaited attention. And yet, despite finally getting him to even breathe your way, you still couldn't trust it. Don't get your hopes up, not yet. "…me?" You asked, your voice almost as uneasy as you actually were.

He scoffed. "Yeah you, idiot. Who else?" He retorted, his eyes crinkling slightly as he furrowed his brow "don't be nervous around me, it's annoying." He added, and with that, he turned his gaze away once more. You were speechless, looking up at him like a lost puppy.

Kirishima looked between you, Katsuki, and then Mina, and surprisingly caught on pretty quickly, speaking up. "Hey, Bakugo, be a little nicer to her" he butted in, giving you a sort of reassuring look. But between him, and Mina, and Katsuki coming up with some retort, you just felt… awful.

Why did your friends have to go through these hoops for you? Why couldn't you do it yourself? No, you'd already tried a million times, all failing miserably, just to get the guy you'd liked since you started at UA to look at you. You'd done enough. Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn’t he just…see you?

Before Katsuki could snap out a response to Kirishima, or even say anything else to you, you'd gotten up from the couch, and began walking towards the door. You didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Maybe it was loathing, because you now wanted nothing more than to ignore your crush as much as he ignored you.

Mina called you back, Kirishima scolded Katsuki, and everyone else stood around confused about the scene as you walked towards the elevator. You didn’t bother looking back as you hit the button up. The one time he’d talked to you in earnest, and you ran away. You felt stupid for all of it.

You stepped into the elevator, clicking the button, your eyes on the wall as someone slid into the elevator with you. You looked up, beyond surprised to see Katsuki, standing right next to you with his arms crossed, letting the elevator door closed, leaving you stuck alone with him.

“What are you doing” he said bluntly, stepping slightly closer. You stared at him, a small blush creeping onto your cheeks for a moment before you looked away. “Heading to bed. This is the girls elevator you know” you said quietly. At that he scoffed and moved closer. “I know.” He muttered, leaning against the wall in front of you 

He was quiet for a moment as the elevator began to move before he finally spoke up, saying a gruff “Why’d you get upset?” Under his breath. You looked up again, sighing. “I'm not upset-” “like hell you’re not” he interjected, standing straight, looming so close to you, those narrow eyes, always trained on something or someone else, were now totally and utterly fixed on you. 

“You’re a terrible liar. Just be honest with me, and quit trying to act like I didn’t upset you.” He said it so honestly, his voice going quieter again as he stared at you, continuing. “Did I upset you?”

You stared at him, feeling dizzy as the elevator door opened. He looked at it and then back at you, groaning in frustration as he dragged you out into the hallway. “Which rooms yours?” He asked, and, totally confused, you just pointed and he dragged you through the door, looking around. “You suck at decorating” he said bluntly before sitting you down. “What’s. Wrong?” He repeated, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You were still so confused. Why did he care so much? Why would Katsuki fucking Bakugo be so concerned that he knelt in front of you like this? Did he actually feel bad? Did he actually care about you?

At that thought your struggle slipped out faster than you could stop them. “I like you. And I wish I didn’t” you whispered, your words falling into the silence of your room as he knelt in front of you, his expression as unchanged as ever.

The both of you were silent for a moment, just staring at each other. Your breath was rather rapid, and there was no hiding your blush now. Why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that why did I-

“Seriously? That’s it?”

You could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle in his voice as he spoke up. “I knew that.” He said simply, standing up. “Like I said, you’re a terrible liar.”

Before you could respond, or even grasp his words, he was already walking towards your door. But he stopped at the door, as if sensing your confusion. “Your decorations aren't… terrible… and I guess I like you too”

Your breath caught in your throat. he said that last part so quickly as he opened the door and walked through, saying a quick goodnight before closing it behind him. what the hell just happened? Best believe you’d be pondering the answer all night 

Meanwhile, Katsuki was walking back down the hall to the elevator, taking deep breaths as he adjusted his uniform tie. he didn’t know why he let that slip out, but he knew it’d make you feel better…maybe. god he hated it when he couldn’t think things through before he spoke. 

The truth is, Katsuki had never ignored you. He’d never tell you that though. The glances he’d steal at you were much quicker taken. Shitty hair knew, hell, even Dunce-Face Kaminari knew. But he’d swore off ever telling you. He had too much he wanted- no- needed to do first. But now, those plans were a bit muddled.

And, despite what he said, he didn’t actually know you liked him back. He just said that in an attempt to deflect. What an idiot. A stupid, secretly lovesick idiot. 

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Part 2?

[bitchy-peachy]

What keeps me from forgiving these maga that are "waking" up is the fact they didn't give a flying fuck until their stupid bullshit affected them. That complete show of apathy and selfishness towards people that aren't like them totally pissed me off to the point I wouldn't waste my energy if I saw a redhat in trouble even if they're "waking" up now.

They wouldn't do it on me, a woman of ambiguous features and an accent. They'll most likely call ICE on my ass.

There's something seriously fucking wrong with people so shut off from the suffering literally around them that they only "feel bad" when shit finally hits the fan for them.

We really can't trust people like this. This is just... They're untrustworthy af if they need this to be "good". I see them as literally soulless.

My mother (or birth giver because she was never a "real" mother. In fact she fucking sucked) voted for Trump 3 times. She did it out of selfishness and hatred towards the same people Trump hates. She admitted it. A lot of maga admitted that they voted to hurt us, even if their socalled "loved ones", cos let's save it, maga love no one, would get hurt by this administration.

Mothers of trans kids voted for Trump, immigrants with relatives living here illegally voted for Trump, people in interracial marriages with mixed kids that already get profiled by shitty racists voted for Trump. Trump never hid his true self and they still voted for him.

My mother now cries to my relatives wanting to talk to me cos Trump's policies threaten her social security, her apartment, her VA, her ACA, she's a mixed but extremely antiblack and now she's getting called the nword more freely now cos she was never going to be white no matter how much white nazi ass she kissed.

And she has the exact same pattern as these "waking" maga fucks.

They don't "care" until it affects them. They still hate us and still want to hurt us despite them being "betrayed" by that orange shit pile they voted for.

Trump didn't keep this shit from them. They willingly voted for him cos they thought only the ooooh evil side they hate was gonna get hurt.

My empathy has limits and I ain't going to extend it to people that haven't really changed and none of these fuckers have really changed. They're still selfish and crying over hurting their own stupid asses.

Once I see them weep and put themselves in the line of fire for the people they tried to literally annihilate in this shithole destroyed country, I might believe in their repentance a little.

But until now they're just crying at getting their asses stung. They're only crying for themselves and them getting hurt. Fuck that bullshit.

Their selfish stupid voting is gonna kill more people than covid. Heck, even our health is endangered cos of Trump's dumb pick of RFK that is anti FDA and anti vaccines. Now we've got an explosion of Measles when we shouldn't even be having one due to the Measles vaccines being so good in preventing this.

I fucking hate stupid ass people with too much power. They're a danger to everyone. Every death, every hate crime, every racial and all phobic attacks are entirely on the hands of these ignorant fucks.

I've only seen at least 2 maga being serious in changing and for that they had to see and empathize with the ones they hurt. Like crying for them without them having to go through a Trump "betrayal". It's rare to find these so yes, I will generalize the shitty maga movement until I see an overwhelming wave of actual people that genuinely know they fucked up innocent people and feel ashamed of themselves and will actually fight for the ones they hurt. Unfortunately most of the shit I'm seeing is selfish "bu-but why am I losing everything 😭💔" crap.

I will continue treating selfish ass maga that obviously still want to hurt us like absolute crap. I can't bring myself to be nice to people that want masses of people to get abused and die.

Maga want to hurt strangers they were taught to hate. They don't even personally know anyone of the demographics they hate and yet wish all harm and hardship on them.

Trump voters didn't vote for groceries, they voted with hate in their hearts.

And it takes a long to time to detox from this. I don't think it's impossible but... these people are very not sorry.

If they really want to reach out and genuinely want to learn to not be this way, I can't hold that against them. Anyone is allowed to reach out for help. However people need to realize that we're not obligated to forgive people that hurt us. We also need our own space and community. They can build their own as well.

You can't force or judge those that won't give forgiveness cos I know this isn't about forcing. We're allowed to be pissed. We're gonna suffer the consequences for a long time for their choices. I also don't believe that they all voted without malice. I might call them stupid but they knew what they were doing especially if those that voted for him 3 times.

This is an interesting thing. Looks like testimonies of people who left the MAGA movement- how they got into it and why.

Leaving a cult is really hard, so I really respect the people who are speaking from this place.

[no-144444]

dive- c.sainz

summary: f175 is a new experience, and a confession is shared.

pairing: carlos sainz x fem! singer! reader

(inspo from the song dive by olivia dean!)

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“It isn’t workin’, I’m a tidal wave of question marks and you’re just surfin’.”

Carlos weaved through the expensive-looking crowd as he heard your angelic voice over the speakers. Charles sent him a knowing glance, a smug smile that said everything he needed it to; “you’re whipped.”

And he was right. Carlos had been waiting for this for a month. His busy schedule meant he’d never seen you perform live, and he was desperate. He felt cheated out of it when he found out that you’d be performing straight after the Williams showcase, so he rushed out. He couldn’t see you, not quite there, but he knew he would, and that was enough. 

“Leanin’ into me like it’s an art.”

“You look smart,” Lando smirked beside him. He noticed everything, it was weird. “Put on a bit of extra cologne?” he teased. 

He rolled his eyes, a playful smile. “Is it a crime to love a woman?” 

Lando pushed his shoulder, his jaw dropping. “It’s love now, is it?”  

“Yes, it is,” he said, matter-of-factly. “And I’d appreciate it if you would leave me, so I can go see her.”

“Does she know that?” he teased, pulling on Carlos’s tie. 

“She will,” he shook his head. “She does.”

“It’s so crazy lately. You just understand my feelings make me see I’m capable, I’m fine,”

“Have you told her?” he asked, stepping closer as the area they were in became increasingly crowded. 

“I plan on,” he offered with a half-smile/ half-grimace. “I just need-”

“The right moment?” Lando shouted over the music. “Trust me mate, there’s never a ‘right moment’ for that,” Why the fuck was he listening to relationship advice from Lando ‘man-whore’ Norris? “ Just talk to her. And soon. I heard she was Henry Cavill’s celebrity crush.” 

And on that note, Lando moved on, leaving Carlos with a few more insecurities than before. He again fought his way through a sea of people, all wearing expensive perfume and clothes, all complaining about something or other, all trying to get a peek in at the drivers. He didn’t care. He had to see you. 

“And I’m feelin’ beautified tonight, and I’m ready to dive-”

He finally got a look at you and, wow. Your flowing navy dress (a subtle ode to him, he hoped), your perfectly styled hair, your bright smile, your voice. All of you. To be honest, if he wasn’t totally transfixed by you, it would’ve knocked him on his ass, how beautiful you were. He smiled as you danced to your own song, your band joining you. Your voice was perfect, gentle and sweet, the voice he’d fallen in love with. The voice he woke up with, the voice he heard throughout his apartment when you’d come to stay, the voice he loved. 

“Maybe it’s the lovin’ in your eyes!” 

You met his eyes and offered him an enthusiastic wave, making his heart ache in this hopeless way, because he knew without a doubt, he was in love with you. He just wasn’t so sure you were in love with him. 

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You smiled as you sat beside him for the remainder of the night, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You easily spoke with everyone, meeting his teammates (past and present), and even dealing with what he called a ‘Lando situation’, aka Lando doing something stupid and you having to deal with it. This time it was nearly stabbing Zak Brown with a fork, and while Carlos wouldn’t much mind if he did, he didn’t condone public violence. 

“You were radiant tonight,” he murmured as he buried his head in the crook of your neck during a break in the show. 

“Thank you baby,” you smiled back, your hand going up to run through his hair. “You looked pretty good yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked. 

You nodded, a bright smile on your lips. “Oh yeah.” 

He chuckled against you. “Mi vida, you’re perfect.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re wonderful.”

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”

You turned your head, your eyes wide and almost… confused? Were you confused? Had he read your relationship wrong? Oh fuck-

“I love you too,” you smiled, and surged forward, pressing your lips against his. 

He breathed out a little laugh as you kissed him, noticing how Lando was filming the two of you. He didn’t care.

"I thought you were going to say no," he admitted with a light laugh.

You stared at him, shocked for a moment. "Did you listen to the lyrics?"

He shrugged. "You're very pretty?"

You playfully hit his arm. "I'm ready to dive. Maybe it's the loving in your eyes? Maybe it's the magic in the wine? Maybe it's the fact that every time I fall I loose it all, but you've got me from my head to my feet, and I'm ready to dive," you chuckled at his stupidity.

He sighed as he placed his head in his hands. "I am stupid."

"That's my line!" Charles barked from the table behind the two of you, sending all three of you into a fit of laughter.

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williams & merc masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[mourning-sapphire]

living dead girl | aemond targaryen

Summary: You didn’t think going to a gig would then have you on your back in a hotel room with the lead guitarist between your thighs and a blinking red light on the nightstand.

Pairing: Metal Guitarist!Aemond x Reader (modern au)

Warnings (not in order): roughly set in the 00s, voyeurism/filming sexual acts (with consent! but again there is explicit filming of sexual acts), smut, spitting, spanking, overstimulation, guitarists finger faster, multiple positions, use of nicknames (baby, bunny etc.), face-fucking, dry humping, a healthy dose of dacryphilia, softish? dom!aemond, sub reader, cum eating/sharing (oops), UNPROTECTED sex (don’t do this irl), edging (m), creampie, aftercare.

Word count: 30k

authors note: ive read this about a million times, if there's a mistake know i had to proof this myself, enjoy babies hehe <3

Dragon’s Gate Bar

            Bodies, bodies, bodies.

The scent of incense hung heavy in the air, so overpowering that it drowned out the usual smells of a packed crowd—sweat, stale drinks, and damp jackets. About 150 people were shoved into the sticky floored basement of an alt bar, the only one in the city; bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the walls sweating from the collective heat. All shuffling and moving for the same reason – to see some band.

“I’m not sure why you dragged me out to this,” you shouted to your friend Sara, leaned close to be heard over the noise. Your eyes flicker up to the dinky but oddly charming stage. “It’s not like I’m here for the same reason you are.”

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy alternative music, actually, you loved the rush and relief it gave you after a hard day at work or when you needed an adrenaline boost at the gym. But going to gigs? That was never really your thing. The preference for you was being sat in your bedroom, thinking with headphones on, rather than grimacing every time someone knocked into you or risking a drink getting spilt over you. You didn’t knock the culture; you just didn’t go very far out of your comfort zone often.

Sarah on the other hand? Despite being your friend she was the polar opposite, she was always the more outgoing one. The one that pushed you out of your comfort zone and made sure you always had fun wherever she dragged you to. But for all intents and purposes, and in her own words, she was a groupie.

The thrill she got from following bands she loved, chasing the music, and hooking up with someone along the way was unmatched for her, honestly? You adored her for it. The stories she shared about her escapades; the tours she hauled herself on, the wild nights, the explicit encounters in seedy bathrooms, were nothing short of thrilling. In a way, you lived vicariously through her adventures.

“Girl,” She leaned in as close as you, and yelled back, “When I tell you that you’ll love this band, trust me, not only are they talented but fuck, they are hot.” She cackled, glancing around the bar before she grabbed your arm and pointed to the stage door.

“See him over there?” she said, pointing toward a medium-length, white-haired guy who looked a little worse for wear as he chatted with someone by the side of the stage; just her type. “That’s Aegon. He’s the lead singer.”

Your lips parted to respond to her before she slapped your arm, and pointed just left of the lead singer.

“And over there? That’s Daeron,” she said with a sly giggle and a raised brow. “The drummer, shy and totally your type.” Sarah couldn’t help but tease, cooing at you with a dirty smirk on her red lips.

Following her gaze, you couldn’t help but purse your lips in appreciation. She wasn’t entirely wrong, Daeron did seem like your type. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was taller than the lead singer. His cropped white hair had a fluffy texture with curls on top, and his ears were kitted out with a plethora of piercings. He wore what you could only describe as a "slutty" tank top, arms on full display, paired with ripped black straight leg jeans. Everything about him screamed boy in the band. At the edge of the stage, he was lost in his rhythm, tapping his drumsticks on a practice pad with focused look.

“Are they all related or something,” You asked her, looking at Daeron intensely as the black-haired man who was speaking to Aegon wandered over to him next.

“Yes,” She nodded with a shit-eating grin, her eyes burning with some sort of desire, “There’s a guitarist too, Aemond, but he’s a bit no-nonsense with everything so you never see him until he goes on stage – their sister Helaena joins them as bass when they tour.” She added.

“So, they’re a family of musicians?” You raised your eyebrow apprehensively, giving her a strange look, “That’s a first.”

“Kinda hot,” she said, biting her lip with an amused glint in her eyes before shooting you a heated look. “Two brothers in one go? Now that’s my kind of night.” You could only shake your head at her, matching her amused expression.

“What’s their name again?” you asked, glancing at the stage’s fabric backdrop; a black flag with a red, cracked crown decorating the centre.

“Blood Princes,” she replied with a slight eye roll, grabbing your arm and tugging you toward the front of the crowd. She pushed forward with little regard for the glares thrown her way. “Bit of a silly name, but apparently, they’re descended from royalty or something,” she yelled back over her shoulder.

You let out a puff of air, grimacing at the annoyed looks Sarah earned as she elbowed her way through the crowd. While the lights began to dim as the last stragglers filtered into the bar, and the noise of the crowd swelled. Determined as ever, Sara made it her life’s mission to reach the barrier at the very front.

The stage was lower than what you’d see at a big venue, leaving no doubt that this was all part of her plan. If she could get front and centre, so could her flirty attitude, and she’d make sure one of the brothers noticed. It was clear she had her sights set on turning tonight into another of her wild stories.

You followed her reluctantly, shuffling through the crowd as Sara carried forward with pure energy and eagerness. The closer you got to the front, the more you could start to feel the heat of the crowd, the mix of raw excitement snapping in the air as the yelling increased. The air felt thick with incense and the promise of something about to happen.

By the time you had shoved your way to the barrier, she was practically vibrating with excitement, her smoky eyes scanning the side of the stage for any sign of the brothers. You couldn't help but chuckle under your breath. She was a force of nature when she got this determined (or horny).

The room grew darker, and the chatter quieted, replaced by the rising tone of a guitar. The anticipation in the air felt electric, and if the atmosphere was anything to go by, then these brothers probably knew how to put on a show. You couldn’t deny you were caught up in the feeling that Sara felt, that raw charge of the night and the want to just let go and enjoy yourself.

Despite yourself, you found your heart racing, the bobbing of silver-haired men on the side and the crowd starting to chant, topped off and heightened by Sara's infectious energy.

It was like a fate when the lights cut out completely, plunging the room into darkness. The screams of the crowd collectively pierced the air, waiting for the first notes to break the silence.

“Dragon’s Gate,” A smooth timber of who you assumed was Aegon pulsed out the speaker - a deep, resonating sound that seemed to shook the air around you. The crowd erupted into cheers, and the lights flashed to life in a red hue pointing to the crown, and the sound of high hats tapping filled the air, “I want to fucking HEAR YOU.” He screamed into the mic.

The band appeared on stage in a blur of black and leather, shadows shifting as they settled into their positions. Daeron, the drummer, was the first you spotted, his hands a blur of movement as he tapped the edge of his cymbals with precision. Aegon, took centre stage, his presence magnetic as he grabbed the microphone with a casual confidence.

The sound hit you like a wave and the drums thrummed in your chest as the guitars screamed through the air. Aegon’s voice, gravelly yet melodic, cut through that chaos. The crowd surged as one, a mass of bodies moving with the rhythm, drawn together in the shared euphoria of the moment.

It was at that moment, from your spot by the side of the stage, that your gaze landed on the other brother, the one you hadn’t seen before.

Aemond.

You weren’t sure if it was the crowd or the way his eyes locked onto yours, but you were breathless as you took in the sight of him. Tall, lithe, and utterly commanding, he moved right in front of your line of vision, his presence pulling you in like a magnet.

Like his brothers, Aemond was dressed head to toe in rich black. His t-shirt clung to his body like a second skin, while a heavily decorated leather jacket hung casually over his shoulders; spotted with studs and patches that you didn’t understand. His jeans were tight and ripped, accentuating every sculpted muscle in his skinny legs, and topped off with a heavy looking buckle. His hair, much longer than both of his brothers, was straight and swayed with each nod of his head like rivers of liquid silver spilling over his shoulders.

What stood out the most was the faint red scar that ran across his eye, its presence flickering with each flash of light, yet always there. His eye seemed largely unaffected, milky white and probably not useable conventionally, but the slash only seemed to enhance his features rather than detract from them, adding a raw intensity to his face that made it all the more striking.

And his hands? God, his hands.

They were perfectly large and veined, like they’d been carved by the gods themselves, made to pluck strings. His bony fingers grasped onto the neck of his guitar and moved up and down in a way that told you that he had rough skin.

Something was captivating about him, something that drew your attention even as the chaos of the crowd swirled around you with the sounds of screams and shoves. It was like every movement he made seemed deliberate, as though he knew exactly how to command the room without a word; if the screaming of girls around your side of the stage was anything to go by. His eyes flicked toward you again as they started to pick up with the first song, it was as if the noise of the crowd faded for a split second, and it was just the two of you in that electric space.

Aemond didn’t look away, his gaze steady and piercing, and you felt an inexplicable shiver lick down your spine. It was like he wanted to eat you. You could almost hear the music beneath the pounding bass, its rhythm syncing with the beating of your heart. You were no longer just watching a show, you were completely caught in a moment with this man, completely aware of how he seemed to take up every bit of the space around you.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk, and you couldn’t tell if it was meant for the crowd or you. But it didn’t matter.

In that brief exchange, something shifted. You couldn’t look away, and neither could he. The connection, electric and silent, buzzed between you like an unspoken dare. The music throbbed louder, the crowd's energy surging again, but now, you were focused entirely on him. Aegon's screams blending into the background.

The moment seemed to stretch beyond moral time; each second dragging on as the intensity between your gazes grew. The music swirled around you, but it felt distant now as Sara jumped beside you completely unaware.

It was fading into the background as Aemond’s presence consumed your attention, a warming feeling building in your core just from his very eyes. His eyes never left yours, and with each beat, it was as though he was drawing you in deeper, challenging you to break the gaze between you.

The crowd surged around you, people moshing and shoving with an energy you didn’t possess, but you stood still, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and raw desire for a man you didn’t know. You could see his fingers moving on the guitar, effortlessly sliding across the strings with a grace that made it hard to look away.

But it wasn’t just his playing; it was the way his whole body moved with the music, the way he seemed so at ease on the stage, yet undeniably aware of every person in the room; he was there only for himself.

Every moment passing felt like hours. And then, without breaking eye contact, he crouched to the edge of the stage and leaned in slightly, his expression darkening in a way that made your breath hitch; his fingers moving at a speed you didn’t comprehend as he rattled off some solo. The crowd roared around you at him, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

With a flushed face, you could only look him up and down as Aemond smirked again, this time broader, as if he’d won some silent game between you. You couldn’t tell if he was inviting you in or daring you to look away, but either way, you knew you were already lost in it.

You knew you were fucked.

The rest of the show passed in a blur, all with Aemond’s face etched into your mind; the unspoken tension between you two palpable and electric, intoxicating even. But it was as intense as it was intoxicating, leaving you with a building warmth deep in your core – a sensation you weren’t sure you’d ever felt from a singular person before. It wasn’t just the music or the atmosphere causing it; it was something more primal, a raw need charging between two people who hadn’t even exchanged a word.

Aemond’s gaze never wavered, and neither did yours. The connection was undeniable, like an unspoken promise of more hanging in the air. Every glance, every flick of his fingers on the guitar, seemed to deepen the pull between you. The crowd around you faded, the noise blurring into the background as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

When the final song hit and for a brief, fleeting moment, Aemond’s eyes locked with yours one last time as he handed his guitar off to one of the techs. He held your gaze with an intensity that made the air thick and heavy like something was about to snap. The moment was charged but brief as he roamed over you with his eyes before disappearing off the side of the stage, leaving you standing there, breathless, wanting more.

As the lights came up, Sara turned to you with a grin so smug it could only mean she did, in fact, see the whole thing. Her head whipped around so quickly, much to the chagrin of the man behind her who got slapped with her hair, it was a miracle she didn’t get dizzy. Before you could react, her manicured hand was clutching your arm, yanking you closer.

“Girl, what was that?” she demanded, shaking you slightly for emphasis like she couldn’t contain herself. “And don’t you dare tell me ‘nothing.’ I saw the way you were making ‘fuck me’ eyes at him.” She widened her eyes for emphasis.

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered, still a little breathless from the intensity of it all. Your eyes briefly glanced back at where he had just stood on stage. “We just… locked eyes, and I couldn’t look away.”

Sara squealed so loudly that a few people nearby shot her odd looks, but she didn’t care. Her face was one on of pure elated happiness,

“Are you gonna fuck him? Please tell me you are,” she asked, bouncing on the spot like a giddy child. “I mean, you picked the hardest one in the band to crack, but girl, you have to,” she said, her eyes wide and full of determination.

You gave her an incredulous look. “Sara,”

“What,” she shot back, shameless. “You know I’m right. That was electric, babe. You can’t let a moment with a man like that go to waste.”

If someone were to stare at you right now, they’d witness your mouth opening and closing like a confused fish – completely unable to tell your best friend otherwise. It was comical, and it was embarrassing because she was right. If the burning in your core didn’t speak to how much you wanted him, the fact that he ensnared your gaze without even mumbling a single word to you was something written out of a shitty book. You knew nothing about him; besides the 3 things Sara told you and the fact that visually he might be the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen.

It wasn’t like one-night stands were completely off the table - you indulged now and then, just like anyone else. You were an adult woman with needs, after all. But sleeping with a musician? That sounded like a recipe for absolute disaster.

Charming, unpredictable, and fleeting all swirled around your head. Musicians were the people who lived in the moment, burned bright, and moved on just as quickly. A one-night stand with a regular person was one thing, a mutual, fleeting connection that was understood and beneficial, but with a musician? It felt like opening the door to a mess of complications. Your face internally grimacing at the idea of blurred boundaries, ego trips, and the lingering aftermath of knowing you were likely just another fleeting memory for them.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “It’s not like I can just walk up to him and—”

“Oh, yes, you can!” Sara interrupted, her grip on your arm tightening as she gave you a look that could burn through steel. “He was looking at you, not just glancing, babe. That was full-on-undressing-you-with-his-eyes energy.”

“Sara,” you hissed, glancing around at the dispersing crowd, it was unlikely anyone cared. “He’s probably already gone backstage or something.”

Sara could only give you a look that called you an idiot on various levels, her eyes fluttering like you’d said the stupidest thing in the world to her.

Sara snorted and crossed her arms. “They always head to the bar upstairs after the show, mingle with the crowd or whatever – it’s usually invite only or guestlist, but I know the bartender here, he’ll vouch for us.”

Your stomach flipped. “What?”

She smirked, pointing toward the other side of the room, where the stairs that led up to the bar stood – two men with beards guarding it with a passive look on their face. She could only turn and grin like she’d won the lottery, her confidence practically oozing.

“Relax, babe. I’ve done this a million times. We’ll get in, no problem.” She said smugly, linking arms with you and practically dragging you to the stairs.

The two bouncers looked intimidating but uninterested, scanning the dispersing crowd like they’d rather be anywhere else. Your stomach churned with a mix of nerves and excitement.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you asked her, though you knew it was a futile question. Once Sara had a plan and sex on the brain, she was unstoppable.

“Good idea? Probably not,” she admitted with a laugh, linking her arm through yours and pulling you toward the stairs. “But a fun one? Abso-fucking-lutely.” She grinned.

You sighed but didn’t resist her as she led the way, her platform heels thudding against the sticky floor. Deep in your gut you knew this was a terrible idea, possibly even the worst idea of hers you could have gotten involved in, but there was a depraved part of your brain that was curious to see if your little staring contest would go anywhere.

When you eventually reached the base of the stairs, you were clearly not the only people itching to get up into the private afterparty, a gaggle of women surrounding the bouncers like hungry zombies.

Sara, being the champ that she was, merely elbowed her way in again, much like the gig crowd, and it was in a blink of an eye before one of the bouncers held up a hand to stop you going further.

“Private area,” he said flatly, giving both of you a once-over.

Sara didn’t miss a beat. She leaning in and flashing that bright smile she pulled when she wanted her way, a gentle purr to her tone as she dropped the name of someone, probably the bartender, like they were old friends. “He said it’s fine.”

On of the bouncers raised an eyebrow, glancing at his companion, who gave a barely perceptible nod; the lack of care on his face. “Alright. Go on up,” he said, stepping aside.

Your eyes widened as Sara tugged you up the stairs. “How do you do that?” you whispered, in awe as she dragged you up the stairs, your eyes glancing behind you to see the hordes of unhappy women at your easy entry.

She shrugged with a grin, jogging up the stairs like her life was dependant on it. “You gotta make them believe what you’re telling them by believing it yourself and somehow it works.”

The upstairs bar was smaller and far more exclusive, with low lighting, posters covering the walls from all the bands that had played there, and a tamer hum of the crowd. The air was tinged with a mix of lingering incense smoke, drinks, and something faintly metallic, it wasn’t off-putting in the slightest though.

It was quieter up here, the crowd dwindled to a select few – mostly friends, fans, and stage crew. The hum of voices was more subdued, like a white noise of just people around you with no discernible conversation being picked up; a stark contrast to the previous frenzied yelling from down the stairs.

The first thing you noticed was the band itself, scattered throughout the room like stars in their own sky. Each member was absorbed in their own little bubble of admirers around them, each with the casual confidence they exuded making them magnetic even in this more relaxed setting.

You could see Sara perk up from beside you as she dragged you to the bar; Aegon, holding court further down the bar, a lazy grin plastered on his face as he entertained a small group of women who all seemed to be fawning for his attention.

“You going to go over to him?” You ask her softly, nudging her with your elbow as you both lean on the bar, gesturing to the bartender for two ciders, “I mean, you look like you’re about to burst from excitement.” There’s was teasing tilt to your voice

“You mean am I going to fight off the 7 girls around him?” She rolled her eyes softly, fishing in her tiny bag for her compact and lipstick, “To which I’ll tell you, maybe, I’ll see how I feel – maybe I’ll go for one of the other brothers,” Her eyes flicked back to you with a smirk shining in them.

At her jest, you turned and looked for the other brothers – only to find Daeron stood near a corner booth, shyly sipping his drink while someone in a leather jacket tried to strike up a conversation; shy for a drummer.

Sara’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, her smirk only growing as she dragged her lipstick across her mouth with an exaggerated flourish. “That is,” she added casually, snapping the compact shut with a satisfying click, “unless someone has dibs.”

Her words hung in the air, pointed and playful. You glanced back at her, and the teasing sparkle in her eyes made your cheeks flush.

“Does that someone?” she asked, arching a perfectly sculpted brow, her tone light but loaded with suggestion.

She knew exactly what she was doing and she was stupidly happy about it, and even worse, she wasn’t wrong. The thought of “dibs” made your mind flash back to Aemond, his intense gaze, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hands moved as if they were an extension of his will.

Could you handle if she decided to sleep with him? You didn’t know him, so you shouldn’t care, and Sara would never do that to you anyway. But, there was a burning in your chest at the thought of someone doing it. An ugly and nauseous feeling that clawed at your oesophagus, tearing into it and leaking something putrid into your soul.

You cleared your throat, the tight feeling suddenly like hand around your airway, fumbling pathetically for a response. “I mean, I just…” You trailed off, trying to come up with something, anything, that didn’t sound like an admission.

Sara just grinned, completely unbothered by your flustered state. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, like a skittish kitten,” she said, drawing out the sounds with a knowing lilt.

She tucked her compact back into her bag and adjusted her top. “Look, all I’m saying is, if you want to make a move, now’s your chance. Guys like that? They don’t stick around long; and they certainly don’t stick around alone for long.”

She was right and you hated it, her words sinking in and hitting a nerve. The cider you had ordered was cold in your hand as you leant on the bar, glancing around for any sign him. A nervous sip being taken at the thought.

Your breath caught when you saw him.

Standing off to the darker side of the bar, well-removed from the centre of attention, Aemond seemed completely at ease yet undeniably commanding in his chosen space. His tall frame leaned casually against the wall like he didn’t really care to be there; his fingers curled around a glass of dark liquid as he chatted quietly to someone, a lady with dark hair. The faint light caught his silver strands and the sharp planes of his face, making him look almost otherworldly in such a normal place.

The woman with him laughed softly, her voice barely audible over the murmur of the crowd but you caught it; it was womanly and warm, but Aemond’s reaction to her was muted – a polite nod, and brief flicker of what you could call smile that didn’t quite reach his eye. His focus seemed elsewhere, like he was merely going through the motions of the conversation.

It wasn’t until he caught your eye, that his demeanour shifted. His posture straightened subtly, his head tilting ever so slightly as his eye locked onto yours; a nod so subtle you weren't sure if you caught it, a silent beckon to ‘come closer’. The woman beside him seemed to notice, however, her own gaze darting toward you with mild curiosity before she offered him a quick goodbye and slipped away into the crowd.

You hesitated for the briefest moment, your heart pounding in your chest, Sara was close to you watching the whole thing with a smug look on her face. The feel of her sharp elbow digging into your side snapped you out of your stare, your head whipping to look at her with wide eyes.

“Go,” she said, her voice firm but there was an air encouragement under it.

You glanced back at her, your heart racing, and then turned toward Aemond, “I don’t want to just leave you on your own.”

If she rolled her eyes any harder, they would drop right out her skull, “Alone? Babe, I’m going home with someone, and you will too – now go.”

You hesitated for the briefest moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before your feet carried you forward almost on instinct. The closer you got, the more palpable his presence became, as though he commanded the very air around him. His gaze never strayed from you the whole time you walked over; steady and unrelenting, it was like he had all the time in the world to wait for you.

It was flattering, but it was like he was enraptured by watching a small animal about to get pounced on, his eye strong to the point that you could have sworn that the lighting made it look like a void.

When you finally stopped in front of him, he was leaned back slightly against the wall, like another frame on the gallery that was posters and signatures of past gigs. He was perched there like a gargoyle, and the way you’d heard people talk about him, it wasn’t that bold of an assumption to make that he most likely loved to watch. His tall frame both relaxed and coiled, like a snake waiting to strike. The smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it sent a shiver of heat through you.

"You found me," he said, his voice low and rich, carrying effortlessly over the low hum of the room. “I was wondering if staring was really all you could do.”

"I was looking for you?" you replied softly, trying to match his indifferent composure.

“Unless you stare at everyone with eyes like that…” His smirk deepened, and he took a slow sip from his glass before answering. "…I’d like to think so."

The air between you felt charged, the buzz of the room fading into a distant hum. Up close, his features were even more striking. The faint scar cutting across his eye seemed to catch the dim light in a way that made it all the more mesmerising, and the intensity of his stare was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. There was an oddity about his face, not in the sense that he wasn’t gorgeous, but that he had the features of someone that you could trace with your fingers, memories every little bump, and never meet someone like that again.

“You decided to come up,” he said, his voice smooth and quiet, like a secret meant just for you, "You’re not like the usual crowd, you stand out a bit more." he said after a beat, his eye sweeping over you in a way that felt like he was picking you apart. Judging your worth.

You couldn’t tell if it was malicious or just curiosity, but you glanced down at your clothing regardless, it wasn’t anything as outlandish as what Sara wore but it still fit the vibe; a black denim shorts and tight silk top, with a thicker leather jacket tossed over it. It was appropriate for the situation, even if the tag was digging into your side and you longed to shed it like a second skin.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" You murmured softly, your eyes glancing back up at him with a raised brow.

He tilted his head, considering you for a moment, his eyes openly sweeping over you. "It is."

“Bold,” You tut softly, your eyes sweeping over his face, “Do you usually stare down women in the crowd? Or am I special?”

Aemond's lips twitched into a faint smirk, the kind that felt practiced yet somehow still genuine, like he knew what he could do to people. He didn’t answer immediately, instead letting the tension simmer in the space between you. His free hand coming up to touch your hair, brushing the strands that were hanging down softly, twirling a piece of it around his finger. It sent a shiver down your spine as your eyes flicked to watch his hand, the subtle jingle of his bracelets, before looking back at him – his eye staring at you intensely.

“Special,” he finally said, the single word carrying enough weight to make your chest seize. “If that makes you any more comfortable...” He trailed off waiting for your name.

You gave it as you swallowed hard, the hum of the room growing even more distant, like he was pulling you into his world and the two of you were caught in a bubble apart from everything else.

“Well,” you managed to choke out, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest, “I hope you have more to offer than pretty words and staring, Aemond.” You surprised yourself with the boldness of your own response, the hint of a challenge laced in your tone.

His smirk deepened, the corner of his mouth quirking in a way that was maddening, his free hand dropped back to his side, the one that was holding his half empty glass placing it off to the side as he held your stare.

He liked long silences, and you couldn’t tell if that was hot or if it was going to be infuriating. You watched him with rapt attention as he reached out to you, his fingers lightly holding the edge of your jacket as he tugged you a bit closer to him. His form towering of you as you looked up; his hair creating a curtain as he looked down.

“Oh, I assure you,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, “there’s much more than words where that came from.”

All your mouth could do was part as his used the soft hold on your jacket to switch places with him, his eyes casting around the room before tilting his chin to look down at you; curtains of starlight hair moving as he crowded you back into the wall.

Aemond’s presence was overwhelming, deliberate.

The air between you building and thickening quicker than you could ever imagine, the space between charged with something unspoken but undeniable. The sharp scent of whatever he had been drinking lingered on his breath, mixing with the faint smokiness wafting off his clothing, and it made your head swim. He was delectable.

His fingers, still hooked on the edge of your jacket, tightened just enough to pull you slightly closer, enough to make your breath hitch. Aemond wasn’t just touching fabric, he was anchoring you, claiming the space between you both as his own.

“You seem at a loss for words,” Aemond murmured, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. His voice was velvet, softer than you’d imagine by just looking at him. It teasing but edged with something deeper.

You swallowed softly, his eyes watching with rapt attention as your throat bobbed, “Not lost,” you managed, though your voice betrayed you, softer than you wanted.

His eye flickered over your face, reading you, dissecting every tiny shift in expression. Then, with agonising slowness, he lifted one hand to trace the line of your jaw with his thumb, barely there in its graze, but enough to make you shiver all the same.

“I like you like this,” he admitted, voice dipping lower, dragging over your senses. “You’re like a doe.”

A sharp breath left you, chest rising and falling as he leaned in just enough that his lips nearly brushed yours, but not quite. The heat of him, the sheer intensity in the way he watched you, was enough to set every nerve in your body alight.

“Come out for a smoke with me?” He hummed softly but his words were edged with other intentions, so soft that if he wasn’t right in front of you then the words would be lost to the bar, “If you want to of course…”

“Okay.” you whispered, trying for steady, though your fingers curled against the wall behind you. “Just a smoke, right?.”

Aemond’s smirk deepened, but this time, his restraint frayed. His hand slid lower, tracing down your side before gripping your waist, firm, possessive.

“Maybe.”

And with that, he closed the last sliver of space between you, pulling your hand from behind you.

The night air did little to cool the heat still pulsing under your skin. Every nerve in your body was taut as you stood beside Aemond on the curb, waiting. The street was quiet, save for the occasional distant hum of a car, but all you could hear was the faint rush of your own breath, watching it even as it turned to white smoke in the cold air, coupled with the unsteady thrum of your pulse. You had watched him take his phone out as he tugged you outside, pulling up an app to call a car.

Sara’s face has been absolutely ecstatic as she caught your eye leaving, his body perched on the lap of someone that wasn’t her main conquest, a subtle tongue in cheek push telling you that she was hoping you’d get that and then some tonight.

Aemond exhaled a slow stream of smoke, the ember of his cigarette glowing bright before fading into the darkness. He held it loosely between his fingers, rolling it casually like he had no thoughts in his head, his other hand shoved in his coat pocket.

Despite the casual stance, there was nothing relaxed about him. His presence was deep, brimming with unspoken intent, and the weight of his gaze was heavy when it flickered to you. Sending a fresh wave of anticipation curling through your stomach.

He smirked, lips twitching around the cigarette. “You’re quiet.”

You swallowed, shifting slightly under his stare. “So are you.”

His eye glowed in the low light. “I enjoy a good silence.”

You let out a soft scoff, but there was no real bite to it. Your pulse had yet to settle from earlier, from the way he had pressed you against the wall, the way he had touched you like he knew exactly what you needed before you even did. And now, just standing next to him, you felt like you were on the edge of something again, teetering between restraint and surrender.

Aemond took another drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot with slow, deliberate movements. When he turned toward you fully, it felt like the air between you shifted, tightening like a drawn wire.

His fingers brushed under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his, his hands a sharp contrast to the freezing air. The touch was light, almost teasing, but it set you alight all the same. His thumb traced the corner of your mouth, lingering for a breath before he spoke.

“You’ll come home with me,” Aemond murmured, not a question, but a quiet, guaranteed statement.

You should have said something, taken a page out of Sara’s book and teased him, made him work for it. But your breath caught when he took a step closer, closing what little space remained between you.

The cab pulled up, but neither of you moved. Not yet.

Aemond’s fingers slid down, grazing your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. He tilted his head, his lips hovering just above yours, so achingly close you could feel the heat of him. The white of your breaths mixing in the air like smoke.

“Tell me you want this.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his leather jacket, holding on like it was the only thing keeping your knees from buckling. Your heart pounded, a slow, aching thud.

“I want this,” you breathed.

Aemond’s smirk deepened, his thumb teasingly pressing harder on your throat.

“Good girl.”

And with that, he placed a hand firm at your back, guiding you into the cab, into the inevitable.

The elevator ride up to his place was a steamy blur of tension, the kind that buzzed under your skin and refused to let up like you were in a shower room and all you could see were shapes of body and heat.

Aemond was standing beside you the whole time, his towering presence taking up more space than it should, his hands hanging casually down by his sides as if he weren’t fully aware of the effect he had on you - or perhaps he was too aware.

Every bump of the elevator, every jostle of it going up, has his hand brushing against yours; the warmth of it tickling your skin like whispered promises. All while he stood there, every so often looking at you with a look in his eye, a hunger so deep you began to wonder if you were about to be his prey rather than his hook-up.

He was strange, you had assumed he’d jump on you the second he got you alone, pushing up against the rickety metal of the elevator and devour you whole. His tongue feasting on you each patch of flesh at a time.

The silence was muggy, a heat bubbling under the surface that was only broken by the gentle hum of the elevator. There was a need in you that could barely stop you from stealing glances at him. Eyes appreciating him in the stark light of the elevator, seeing him in this light, was completely different from the bar.

There was a delicious sense of want every time you smoothed your eyes over the faint curve of his lips, a pout that seemed permanently etched on his face in a way that made you want to see his lips move in any way that you could, or the way his skin had blemishes that didn’t take away from his beauty. Dozens of little moles and freckles dotted all over his face and neck, all of them you itched to trace your lips over.

It was suffocating, and you imaged if lust between you two had a smoke there would be a lavender haze filling the space; it was mind-numbing but also filled you with such a need that you were curious if there was a possibility of having him take you right against the metal walls.

If he felt the same, he hid it well, almost too well that a small insecure part of you wondered if he was merely playing a trick on you. That the pout you begged to kiss would sneer and tell you to leave, that you were stupid to follow him home.

You knew nothing of Aemond, just a few mumbled words between friends that he was elusive and rather hard to crack and that he was devastatingly gorgeous. But gorgeous men just shouldn’t be trusted, couldn’t be trusted.

When the doors eventually slid open to his home, the view hit you first. The entire far wall of his apartment was glass, lavished with a thick black blind at the top. It revealed the glittering Kings Landing skyline that stretched out infinitely beneath the night sky.

It was a renovated loft apartment, and it was truly a reflection of his style. Edgy yet inviting. Exposed brick and steel beams gave the space an industrial edge, softened by warm ambient lighting and plush furnishings. Worn walnut wood that was glaringly vintage, and sleek leather pieces tied the design together, everything looked lived in but not messy.

Deep forest green and royal blue textiles added a sense of depth and luxury that you didn’t think he’d care for with his taste in music. There was amusement bubbling in you at the carefully curated collection of music memorabilia adorned the shelves, nestled between well-loved books, with framed art, vinyl covers, and concert posters punctuating the walls in sleek black frames.

From your place at the door, you could see that he had a few guitars leaning on a rack by the window, a large turntable next to it that blended well with everything. Dozens of records lining the bottom, all in what seemed to be an organised fashion, it all somehow felt like an extension of him – calculated, precise, personal without giving too much away and just a touch intimidating.

It was enough to make you even forget for a second that he was with you by the door, “You like it?” he asked, his voice low like he didn’t want to disrupt your thoughts, but there was a glimmer of something in his tone.

“It’s... breathtaking,” you admitted, eyes flicking to him briefly, the words slipping out before you could even second guess them.

He was watching you back, his hand outstretched to dump his keys in a random bowl, his jacket draped casually over the back of his breakfast bar stool. Leaving him in just a fitted black shirt that did nothing to hide the sharp lines of his frame.

“It has its moments,” he said with a very hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, stepping closer as he came up to your side; his footsteps quiet yet deliberate and his hand hovering over the base of your spine. “Though I’d argue the view inside is even better tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, though a faint warmth flooding your face. “Bold, are we?”

“I’ve been accused of worse.” He hummed amused, the faint warmth of his presence brushing against your back, grounding you that he was real, “Take a seat, I want to talk to you about something.”

Your chest seized at his words, turning to face him fully. He still smelt delectable; smoky like incense and cigarettes and earthy like the dew on an oak tree, but there was an underlying sweetness to it, a drinkable sweetness, his proximity making your pulse quicken.

God, you wanted to lick his neck and taste him.

The tension between the two of you felt sharper now, like a taut string of one of his guitars waiting to snap. “Talk?”

He nodded, his gaze steady but unreadable, though the faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eye as his lips quivered with something at the corners.

"Yes, talk," he said with a faint drawl, his chin jugging in the direction of his couch, his tone teasing but with a seriousness that didn’t match the smirk tugging at his lips.

The loss of warmth as he stepped away from you felt wrong, his hand brushing against your back as he moved toward the leather sectional couch in the centre of the room. A worn and used, soft-looking blanket thrown over the back.

Your heart was still racing as you followed, an invisible string tugging you along with him. There wasn’t anything in you that was scared of him, but your eyes flickered around the space anyway. It all felt like a snapshot of a world he rarely let people into, and for a moment, you wondered how many others had stood where you were now.

Did he let people wear down his floorboards often or did he keep that door firmly locked?

As Aemond settled into the couch, you saw the same effortless confidence he carried everywhere else, one arm draped across the back, the other resting on his knee; his rings still shining in the low light, the sapphire eyes of the dragon head staring off to nothing on his middle finger.

It was faint but there was something under the surface of him, a nervousness that he was trying to hide, his fingers tapping against his knee before his pointer finger rubbed against the side of his thumb, something in his body calling to pick at the skin out of habit. He was fighting it though, a coolness of his face as he gestured to the seat beside him, his expression softening just enough to make the situation feel less intense than he was presenting it as.

You hesitated only a second before sitting, the leather cool beneath you.

"So," you said, tucking your legs under yourself and turning slightly to face him much to his amusement, "what exactly did you want to talk about?"

He leaned in slightly as he regarded you and got comfortable with you. Up close, the sharpness of his features was even more striking, the hard lines of his jaw that had your fingers twitching in the want to run across each hard line, memorising it for your memory bank.

The glint of something unreadable in his eye, and the faint scar that struct through the other one only seemed to enhance his magnetism. The scared eye was milky, not as vibrant as the other one, but it was still beautiful, the hint of blue that was still there, like cornflower petals in a milky bath.

“You know why you’re here, right?” he said softly, a faint fry to his voice with how quiet he was speaking to you; quiet but firm seemed to be the best way to sum him up.

You blinked at that, your stomach doing a flip at the soft intensity of his tone. “That sounds a little ominous,” you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the rapid thrum of your heartbeat, your fingers nervously picking at the fabric of your tights.

His lips twitched into a faint smirk as he regarded you, a soft tut from his pouted lips.

 “Just answer the question,” he huffed softly, leaning back again into the corner of the couch casually, and observing you with that same measured intensity. “Do you know why you’re here”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment, his demeanour casual but there was something else to it. “I’m under the assumption we’re going to sleep together, that’s all.”

Aemond’s smirk broadened at that but there was something behind it now, humour, sure, but also something sharper, something more intent. His fingers toying with the rings on his right hand, the subtle gleam of metal catching the dim light.

“Clever girl,” He purred softly, the clench in your stomach almost instant at his tone, “I want to lay some ground rules first.” His tone low and steady, carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken even more.

You arched a brow, refusing to be daunted by the intensity of his gaze, though your heart raced all the same. "Ground rules?” you countered; your voice softer now.

His eye flicked over your face, studying you with the same scrutiny that made you feel like he could see far deeper into you than you were comfortable with.

"I think you’ve gathered, I’m a rather… unconventional person," he admitted after a moment, his voice taking on a huskier edge, "I don’t exactly make a habit of bringing women home, for good reason."

You leaned back slightly, crossing your arms over your chest as you regarded him. "Care to elaborate?"

Aemond’s smirk softened into something subtler, a faint curve of his lips that hinted at a side of him you weren’t sure he showed to many.

"I don’t mess around," he said simply his hand reaching out again to move some of your hair out the way, though there was a flicker of something darker in his tone. "If all I wanted was a warm body, I wouldn’t have brought you here, I would have fucked you in that bar and been done with you."

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and charged; the lust had developed into something more, something darker, but not something unsettling, dare you say it even furthered your interest. The air between you felt impossibly still, like when the forest went silent for a predator in its wake, waiting for what would come next.

"So, what is it, then?" you asked, your voice quieter now, your tone giving way to genuine curiosity. "Why am I here?"

His gaze was cast to your lips as his lips perked up into what you could call a smile, a small huff of air blowing out his nose as he scanned his way back to your eyes, “What if I told you I was into a little more... Intense things than a throwaway one night stand?”

The air between you seemed to thrum, your pulse quickening at his words. There was something deliberate in the way he said it, slow and measured, as though he was testing your reaction, gauging how far he could push before you might pull back.

You tilted your head, your curiosity was now undeniable. “Intense?” you echoed; your voice soft but steady. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that, Aemond.”

His lips quirked into a faint smirk, but his gaze remained fixed on yours, unflinching. “You’re such a precious little thing,” he murmured, his voice low, “and I can’t help but have a soft spot for tearing apart precious little things”

You blinked at that, both intrigued and slightly wary. “Meaning?”

Aemond’s smirk deepened, a glint of something heated flashing in his eye. “Meaning,” he cooed softly, his voice carrying the faintest edge of a threat, though it was tempered by the unmistakable pull of desire in his tone. “I won’t play nice with you sweetheart; I want to make you cry… If you’ll let me of course”

There was a beat of silence that passed over the two of you at that, your heart thudding in your chest like a hammer on an anvil, the thrill of his words coursing through you as you tried to maintain your composure.

 “I think I can handle that,” you replied with a gentle breath.

He leaned forward again, closing the space between you, his hand brushing against your knee with deliberate slowness. “Is that so?” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with something darker, something that made your skin tingle.

You swallowed hard, your gaze locked on his, the intensity in his words drawing you in even as they sent a shiver down your spine. “I guess you’ll have to show me,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

For a moment, Aemond said nothing, his eye searching yours as though he were trying to unravel you, piece by piece. Then, with deliberate care, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Be sure you mean that, sweetheart, I’m not just going to hold you gently and hum into you like some soft puppy.”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his lips so close, the weight of his words settling over you like a tangible thing. There was no mistaking the warning in his tone, nor the promise. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze sharp, unyielding, and entirely intoxicating. The warmth of his hand lingered on your knee, his touch deliberate but not overbearing, like he was waiting for you to make the next move.

The room felt impossibly still, the quiet stretching between you both like a strong ready to snap. You tried to steady your breathing, though it felt like your lungs had forgotten how to work properly under the weight of his intensity.

“You seem sure that I’ll regret it,” you murmured, your voice low but steady.

Aemond’s lips curved into something resembling a smile, but it wasn’t soft - it was sharp, calculated, and laced with amusement.

“I’m not trying to rattle you,” he said, his voice a soft drawl that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m giving you the chance to leave if you wish.”

The meaning behind his words wasn’t lost on you, and yet you felt rooted in place, unable to walk away even if you wanted to. There was something about him, his presence, his mystery, the dark promise in his tone, that made it impossible to look anywhere but at him.

“And if I stay?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the question carrying more weight than you intended, your noses brushing as you turned your head to look at him. The gaze was intense and heavy, the breaths being passed between you, sharing some kind of charged air.

Aemond leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice low and deliberate. “If you stay,” he whispered, “You need to tell me your safe word, baby.”

The words sent a thrill down your spine, your body caught between the undeniable pull of his presence and the weight of what he was suggesting. The way he said it - low, deliberate, almost tender, only added to the magnetic tension that wrapped itself around the two of you, binding you in place.

Your lips parted slightly, your breath catching as you tried to form a coherent response. “Safe word?” you echoed, your voice barely more than a whisper, laced with curiosity and just a hint of nervousness.

He leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression calm yet charged, like a predator toying with its prey. “I told you,” He said, his tone measured but firm, “I’m not like the men you’ve probably been with before. I need to know you’re prepared before we go any further.”

You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place. “And what happens if I don’t give you one?” you asked, a faint challenge in your tone, though your heart pounded in your chest.

Aemond’s lips twitched into a smirk, his thumb brushing lightly over your knee.

“Then you walk away,” he said simply, though his voice carried an edge that made it clear he wasn’t bluffing.

“Because this…” he gestured between the two of you, the space that felt like it was crackling with electricity “…isn’t something I take lightly. And neither should you.”

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to process the weight of his words. There was no denying the allure of him, the intoxicating pull that made you want to step into his world no matter how dangerous it might be. But there was also something comforting in his seriousness, in the way he framed this not as a game, but as something far more deliberate, far more intimate.

After a moment, you tilted your head, “Mercy,” you said softly, the word slipping from your lips with surprising ease. “That’s my safe word.”

Aemond’s smirk softened into something almost reverent, his hand sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words sending a shiver through you. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

The praise, quiet and deliberate, settled over you like a blanket, making your pulse race in a way that was equal parts exhilarating and grounding. You barely had time to process it before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and far more intimate than you expected. It wasn’t rushed or demanding, it was a promise, one that made your stomach flip with anticipation.

It was a draw of lips together that felt matched, a soft click as they met again and again – a soft breath leaving you as you tried to push forward. He tasted like whatever he drank back at the bar, and faintly like the gum he spat out after his cigarette while the two of you got out of the cab.

The taste bleeding into your mouth as his tongue licked at your lip with a hum. Your hand was grasping at the one he had held at your neck and jaw, fingers brushing over his bracelets, his skin surprisingly warm for someone who looked like the outside would turn them to dust.

Behind it all was a need, a burning disgusting need, your lips parting for his tongue as he licked into your mouth; tickling at your soft palette and sucking softly at your tongue as you played back. He kept drawing you closer, breathing in every single breath he could, his teeth nipping at your lip every time your tongues hid.

When he pulled back, he let out a soft breath, his lips glossy, and his voice a low murmur. “There she is...”

The words hung in the air, weighty and inescapable, as if they sealed an unspoken pact between you. The faint brush of his breath against your lips sends another ripple of anticipation through you. The room seemed to shrink, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as Aemond's gaze held yours, his intensity making it impossible to look away.

It was like a magnet was pulling you back, your chin tilting to bring your mouths closer again but your lips didn’t meet, they only brushed and danced, breaths mixing as you held your gaze.

You breathed out softly, “What am I getting into?”

He only tutted softly, like you would a small child, his hand reaching to brush at your chin endearingly. Aemond studied you for a beat longer, his hand slipping from your cheek to trail down your arm, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made you hyperaware of every inch of yourself.

“Stand up,” he said softly, his tone commanding but not harsh, as though testing your willingness to follow his lead.

You rose without hesitation, his gaze never leaving you as you stood in front of him, so close that the heat of his body warmed yours, his hand up coming to rest lightly on your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the area over your clothing.

“Take off your jacket,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

The simplicity of the command shouldn’t have felt as electrifying as it did, but with him, every word carried a weight that made your pulse quicken. You shrugged off your leather jacket, letting it slide from your shoulders and drop to the floor, your eyes never leaving his.

Aemond’s lips curved into a faint smirk, his eye flicking over you with an almost predatory focus. His hand led the way as he gestured toward the sleek couch. “Sit,” he said, his voice still calm, but with an edge that sent a thrill through you.

You did as he asked, the cool leather of the couch beneath you a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your skin. He remained sitting for a moment, watching you with that same unreadable look.

“This isn’t just about me,” he said, his voice breaking the charged silence. He turned back to you, his expression softer now, though no less intense. “If we’re going to do this, it has to be on my terms, but that doesn’t mean your voice doesn’t matter. Understand?”

You nodded, the seriousness of his tone grounding you, even as your anticipation built. “I understand.”

Aemond’s smirk returned as he reached for your face, his fingers brushing against your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your lower lip.

His smirk deepened, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he leaned in, his nose dragged softly against your cheek before his lips brushed against your ear. “Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low promise. “I’ll take good care of you.”

The air between you thickened as his words settled, wrapping around you like a velvet tether. Aemond’s hand lingered at the nape of your neck, his touch light but deliberate, his thumb idly brushing the sensitive skin there. He was in no rush, savouring the moment, drawing it out until you felt a need clawing at the back of your throat.

“Can you do something for me, baby?” he said, his tone shifting slightly, the teasing edge replaced by something heavier, more serious, his body straightening so he was sitting tall in front of you, your neck craning to look up. He held out his hand, palm up, waiting for you to take it.

You hesitated for the briefest moment, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But the intensity in his gaze drew you in, and you found yourself placing your hand in his without a second thought. He drew you up with him and close to his body, the heat between you palpable as his head very slightly craned to whisper to you.

“There’s a door down that hall,” His head jutted to the corridor on the farther side of the apartment, turning off to what you could see was a series of doors, “First one just on the right, go inside and wait for me, hm?”

Your breath caught at the subtle command in his voice, the mixture of calm authority and deliberate softness sending a wave of anticipation through you. His hand remained steady around yours, grounding you as his gaze stayed fixed on yours, unwavering and unrelenting.

You nodded, your pulse quickening as you murmured, “Okay.”

Aemond’s lips twitched into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eye but carried enough weight to leave you momentarily breathless. He released your hand, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary before falling to his side. He straightened, his expression calm but laced with a promise you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Good,” he said simply, his voice low. “I won’t keep you waiting long.”

You turned, your legs carrying you toward the hallway he’d gestured to. Each step felt deliberate, the sound of your feet muffled against the sleek flooring. Your mind raced as you reached the first door on the right, your hand hesitating briefly on the handle. There was a flicker of nervous excitement bubbling in your chest, your heart hammering in anticipation. You pushed the door open.

The room was already dimly lit, the soft glow of wall sconces casting a golden hue over the space. The décor here mirrored the rest of the apartment: chaotically put together and understated, with a dark mood. The far wall was lined with more shelving that housed an assortment of neatly organised items; picture frames, polaroids, the odd camera, and books.

The room exuded the same calculated precision that seemed to define Aemond. It was surprisingly clean for a man’s room, but you expected nothing less from him.

You stepped inside, your fingers brushing the edge of the doorframe as you took it in. There was an intimacy to the space, a sense that this room was set apart from the rest of his world, reserved for something singular and private. Your feet padded against the wooden floor towards the plush-looking bed, the black sheets inviting as you sat carefully on the edge. Your breathing was steady but shallow, as you tried not to disturb the neatness of his room, sitting quietly as you turned to face the door, waiting.

It wasn’t long before you heard the soft sound of his footsteps approaching, unhurried but deliberate. The door opened again, and there he was, framed in the golden light. He wasted little time though, and closed the door behind him with a quiet click, his eye fixed on you as he stood by the door.

Aemond’s presence filled the room instantly, the air shifting with the weight of his heated gaze. He didn’t say a word at first, his eye tracing your form as you sat on the edge of the bed; staring at you like were about to disappear at any moment, your hands resting on your lap, fingers fidgeting slightly. The faintest of smirks tugged at his lips as he pushed off the door, the sound of his feet soft against the floor in time with the thuds in your chest.

“Well, aren’t you just a pretty thing,” He hummed softly his voice low as he came to stand in front of you, smooth, and impossibly calm, “You’re nervous.”

Your head tilted up to look at him, your face level with his belt buckle as he looked down at you, his hand reaching out to gently caress your head.

His voice was a mere coo as he looked down his nose at you, “Don’t be. You don’t need to be.”

He was taking in your features in the low light of his room, his hand moving from your head to the side of your face, his thumb caressing the skin as he just merely observed you. His touch was warm and slightly rough from what you could imagine was years of guitar playing, the slight scratch on your cheek grounding you at the moment.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl,” He hummed comfortably, one of his knees coming up to rest by your hip as he pressed forward.

It was like your body was on autopilot, sinking back into the bed as your chin tilted up to look up at him; Aemond followed your movement with a slow, deliberate pace, his fingers trailing lightly over your collarbone as you leaned back onto your elbows, his hand skimming your neck like he wanted to grab and softly press back. Similar to the way you’d guide an animal.

The intimacy of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t quite tell if it was the weight of his presence or your anticipation that made your breath hitch.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice smooth, laced with something that sent heat rushing through you. He climbed onto the bed with ease, his movements controlled and precise.

The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and you felt his hand settle on your hip before sliding down your thigh to grab the plush skin, grounding you further into the soft fabric beneath. His gaze roamed over you, his lips curving into a smirk as he silently appraised you for listening to him. It wasn’t just his words or his touch, it was the way he looked at you like you were his and his alone in that moment.

"You’re being so good for me, baby," he began, his thumb brushing the fabric that covered your thigh, "Can I ask something of you?"

Your breath hitched again, the words catching in your throat before you could respond. His hand slid up your side, barely ghosting over your ribs and dragging the fabric of your shirt up with it, and you felt your heart pounding in your ears.

"Say something," he coaxed, his voice a quiet command as his head dipped lower, his lips barely brushing against your ear. "Or I'll have to guess…"

The closeness of him was intoxicating, and as his fingers played at the hem of your shirt, the pad of his thumb just brushed the skin underneath with a burning intensity that didn’t match the soft action. When you finally found your voice, it was quiet, almost timid, but it was enough to satisfy him.

"Okay," you whispered, your gaze flickering to his face. The corners of his mouth twitched, amusement dancing in his single, stormy eye.

"I want to remember you, baby, can I ask you do to something for me?" His voice was breathy, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your hip like he was trying to keep you as close as possible like you’d ever run away. "Let me film you..."

The air in the room seemed to shift at his words, the weight of his request hanging between you on a delicate thread threatening to snap. You could feel your eyes widen slightly as your brain worked overtime to process what he’d said, your breath catching in your throat. His gaze stayed locked on yours, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort.

"Only if you’re okay with it," Aemond added, his voice softer now, almost tender. The hand on your hip loosened its grip, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles against your skin. "The way you look right now, baby, I think you’d be so pretty for me on camera..."

Your heart raced, not just from the intensity of the moment but from the vulnerability in his words. It wasn’t just desire in his eye, it was something deeper, something that made your chest tighten and your resolve falter. He wasn’t just asking for control; he was asking for trust.

"I..." Your voice came out shaky, and you swallowed hard before trying again. "I’ve never…"

"That’s okay," he interrupted gently, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His touch was warm, and grounding. "I’ll take care of you, baby, if it’s too much, just say your word, and we stop. It stays between us."

The sincerity in his tone eased the knot in your stomach, and after a moment, you found yourself nodding. "Okay," you said, your voice steadier this time. "I trust you."

This could potentially be a huge mistake, placing this amount of trust and intimacy in someone you’d only met tonight; but there was something about Aemond that just called to you. Made you forget yourself, and want to indulge yourself more in his hardened image.

His smirk softened into something closer to a smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, lingering there for a beat longer than necessary. "Good girl, he murmured, his lips brushing against yours teasingly. "You’re perfect."

With his assurance, he shifted slightly, reaching over to his nightstand, his hand blinding opening one of the drawers to pull out a small but expensive-looking vintage camcorder. It almost looked like a relic of the '90s, but it seemed fitting, just like everything else about him. He was knelt on his knees between your open legs as he fiddled with the gadget.

Aemond handled the camcorder with surprising care, checking the settings like he’d done this a dozen times before the faint whir of the tape winding filled the air, a nostalgic sound that somehow made the moment feel even more intimate. The blinking redlight told you that it was capturing everything that was going on.

Aemond glanced back at you, his eye gleaming like molten steel beneath the dim light. His long, platinum hair, messy from the gig, fell over his shoulder as he tilted his head at you.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice steady as before but with an edge to it that told you that he was taking your feelings into consideration. "If it’s too much, we stop. No bullshit. No pressure."

"I’m sure," you replied, the words carrying more confidence than you expected. You met his gaze, letting him see the truth in your eyes.

Aemond nodded, his lips curving into that familiar smirk again. "Good girl," he said, his tone low and full of praise as he adjusted his position on the bed leaning over and angling the camera just right to sit on the nightstand. "Just keep looking at me, baby. Don’t worry about anything else. It’s just you and me."

And with that, Aemond leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as demanding as it was gentle like he wanted to claim every piece of you. There was something delicious about the way his lips coaxed yours, the way he commanded each smack of your lips with a gentle flick of his tongue; teasing you. The world outside the room faded, leaving only the steady rhythm of your breath and the overwhelming heat of him as he pulled you closer.

The kiss deepened, Aemond's lips moving against yours with a passion that left no room for hesitation. His hand slid to the nape of your neck sliding into your hair and tilting your head back slightly as he explored every inch of your mouth. It was a slow but consuming kiss, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you piece by piece. A soft moan escaped you as his tongue tickled at the roof of your mouth, one you couldn’t quite suppress, and you felt him smile against your lips, a faint chuckle rumbling low in his chest.

"Cute," he murmured with a nip at your bottom lip, pulling back just enough for you to catch your breath. His eye roamed your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your lip shone in the low light of his room, the way your lips parted slightly, and the addictively dazed look in your eyes. "Even prettier like this."

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he was leaning in again, his lips trailing a line of soft kisses along your jaw, his breath skimming your skin down to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a shiver through you, and his grip on your thigh tightened as though he felt it rack through you.

"Aemond..." you breathed, a slight whine to your voice as your hips pushed softly up against his, the feeling of his length through his jeans, not enough friction for you to feel remotely content.

Your voice, trembling and needy, seemed to burn something in Aemond. His lips paused at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. A low, pleased noise rumbled from his chest as his fingers dug into your thigh, grounding you beneath him and pulling you further into his body.

"You’re something else," he murmured against your neck, his voice rough like a low guitar riff, the heat of his breath fanning against your skin. "So eager for me, aren’t you?"

His murmured words sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and you felt your body instinctively arch into his touch. He didn't stop his lips, however, as they continued their exploration, kissing and nipping down the column of your throat, marking a path that made your pulse race.

When his lips met the hollow of your throat, he paused, lifting his head to meet your gaze. His gaze burning with an intensity that coiled something in your stomach; a mix of desire and something more, something deeper. Your body felt like it was on fire as his fingers traced up the inside of your leg, his middle finger toying with the leg of your shorts. Dipping in teasingly as he smirked amused by your squirming.

“Will you be good for me baby?” He nosed at your jaw softly, tilting your head up like a dog would as he spoke against the bone, this thumb joining the action to stroke the little pudge of fat you had at the top of your thigh as he did; your core clenching in anticipation with his proximity.

If you could see the air between the two of you, you imagined it looked like something struck hot metal; sparks snapping and crackling. He was something addictive that you weren’t sure you’d ever want to give up as every nerve ending in your body attuned to his touch, his voice, the intoxicating weight of his presence.

You could feel Aemond's smirk against your skin as it widened, your breath coming faster, your chest rising and falling beneath his touch. His thumb continued its maddeningly slow strokes, brushing against your skin just enough to tease without giving you the relief you craved.

"I asked you a question, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dripping with a dark amusement as his lips hovered over your jawline, leaving a snapping kiss that felt like a tease more than a relief. "Will you be good for me? Or do I need to coax the answer out of you?"

The rasp in his tone sent another wave of heat rushing through you. Your hands instinctively clutched at his shirt, fingers gripping the soft fabric like it was the only thing tethering you to reality.

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat before you managed a quiet whimper: "I’ll be good."

"That’s what I like to hear, baby…" he purred, his hand sliding further up your thigh, past your core and to the waistband of your shorts, his touch deliberate but still torturously slow as he gave them a teasing tug.

"Look at you," he continued as he pulled back, his tone low and rough. "So desperate, so perfect... all for me." His thumb pressed lightly into the skin above the waistband, and the pressure made your hips buck involuntarily into his bulge, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

He chuckled giving a teasing push of his hips against your core, the feeling enough to make you want to wrap your legs around him and rut like an animal. But it was a deep, throaty sound that vibrated against your skin and gave you a slight pause as he moved his lips back to yours, leaving a few biting kisses on your lips like he was trying to placate you.

"Patience, baby," he murmured, his free hand sliding up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face toward his. "I’ll give you what you need, but I want to savour you first."

At that, Aemond pulled back slightly to sit back on his knees between your open legs, as he studied your face. His gaze sharp and alight with a mix of lust and authority. His hands trailed down your body, deliberately slow, fingers grazing over your waist before settling back on your thigh giving a reassuring squeeze. The weight of his touch was grounding, even as his words sent a shiver through you.

"Take this off for me," he commanded softly, tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. His voice was low, carrying the same deep rasp that sent your heart racing, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath his tone.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words registered. He rolled off to the side of you, his body leaning back with his elbow on the mattress as he expected to take place standing at the edge of the bed, clearly intending to watch. His smirk deepened as he reached for the camcorder, angling it slightly to capture the moment.

"I want to see all of you," he continued his voice a purr; soft and low like he was trying not to interrupt the scene. "Slowly, baby. Let me enjoy it."

The air between you crackled with tension and heat as you got up, your legs trembling from lust as you stood between his parted legs. It was nerve-wracking, looking down at him and the blinking red light, his gaze rolling over your form hungrily.

Your hands trembled as they gripped the hem of your shirt, Aemond’s gaze and the camcorder burning into you; unwavering and unrelenting. He was memorising every move you made.

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing under his intense scrutiny, however, the heat in his gaze was reassuring, grounding you in a way that made your nerves fade into the background. Slowly, you lifted the fabric, revealing more of your skin inch by inch. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as the shirt finally cleared your head, your hair fluffing around you as you dropped the fabric off to the side like it was nothing. He let out a low hum of approval at the sight of your bare chest, the shirt you wore to his gig not built for wearing a bra under it.

His room wasn’t the warmest in the world as you felt your nipples pebble with the cooler air, and the look of his eyes feasting on each piece of skin you showed. He was laid out like a Greek god and you were his water nymph he was playing with; one of his legs bent on the bed to rest his foot on the edge, widening his stance. All in an attempt to ease some pressure from his erection.

"Good girl," he murmured, his eye raking over you with unfiltered hunger, his hand surprisingly steady with the camera as he let one hand go to palm himself, a flush blooming over your chest and cheeks from the action. "Now the rest for me, nice and slow."

His words, paired with the way he sat back like he had all the time in the world, sent a blooming heat through you. Your hands slid to the waistband of your shorts, emboldened by his words as you caressed your skin on the way, unbuttoning them with deliberate slowness as you followed his command. Each movement felt like a performance under his intense gaze, the weight of his attention making your heart pound harder.

“Look at you, baby,” He sang softly, appreciating you as the shorts slid down your legs and onto the floor, you stood there, bare save for your underwear and tights, feeling simultaneously exposed and powerful under his gaze. “Putting on a show just for me…”

"Perfect," he said softly, almost to himself, before tilting his head to get a better look at you, his platinum hair falling over his shoulder. "The rest of it too, baby, turn around and show me…”

You swallowed thickly at that, the low rasp of his voice sending shivers down your spine as your nipples only pebbled more at his tone. Aemond’s gaze never wavered from your body, his intensity a weight in your chest that kept grounding you in the moment.

You gnawed softly at your lip, hesitating for only a moment before spinning slowly on your toes, letting him drink in every exposed movement. The stillness of the room let you hear his sharp inhale, which was low but unmistakable, a subtle confirmation that he liked every inch of what he saw.

His gaze burned as it followed the curve of your back, your hands moving to the waistband of your tights as he asked. Your body rolled down with them, giving a little wiggle to your hips, as your hands worked on sliding them down inch by inch. The fabric clung to your legs before pooling at your ankles, kicked off to the side and leaving you bare but for the thin piece of cotton that clung to your hips.

As you straightened, your heart hammered in your chest anxious to make sure you were doing good for him, your lip still between your teeth as you glanced over your shoulder at him.

Aemond’s lips parted slightly from behind the camera, his tongue darting out to wet them again like he was restraining himself. "Turn back around, baby…" he murmured, his voice low and rough, the barest hint of a growl behind his words.

You obeyed, slowly turning to face him, your hands instinctively moving to rest at your sides. His gaze roamed over you, lingering at your hips, the lines of your legs, rolling back up over your chest, and finally returning to your face. His smirk deepened, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in satisfaction.

His gaze didn’t waver as he reached out to place the camera off to the side, the red light moving like a star in the sky as he rested it just out of reach but you had no doubt it still had the two of you in view. He didn’t need to say another word in the moment as he held his hand out to beckon you closer, your legs hitting the edge of the bed as his hand rested on your hip, guiding you closer with deliberate slowness.

"That’s it," he murmured, his voice a low purr as he leaned back further, his back hitting the sheet this time, spreading his legs just enough to make space for you. "Climb up, baby. I want you right here."

Your heart thundered in your chest as you obeyed, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His hands immediately found your hips, his grip firm but not restrictive as you settled into his lap.

The feel of his denim-clad legs beneath you was rough, a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch as his thumbs began tracing slow circles on your skin. He was hard as a rock as he tugged you forward slightly, resting your core over that hardness as you squirmed. Your hands rested softly on his hips for balance as you gazed down at him. His belt buckle was cool even through the thin material of your panties, every breath feeling like it was nudging you further into the cold metal as you fought a small whine that was building in your throat.

"You look so good like this, baby…" Aemond said, his gaze locking onto yours, the hunger in it making you feel like the only person in the world. "So fucking beautiful."

Heat pooled in your stomach as his words wrapped around you, his praise making you feel bolder despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. Your hands moved to rest on his waist, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his tee. His smirk deepened as he felt each little squirm of your hips, the scent of leather and faint cologne wrapping around you like a second skin.

"Move for me," he coaxed, his voice a quiet demand that left no room for argument. His hands guided your hips gently, encouraging you to rock against him, the friction sparking a delicious heat between your bodies. "Just like that, baby. Let me see how good you feel."

A soft moan escaped your lips as you followed his lead, your movements tentative at first but growing bolder as his hands steadied you. The way he looked at you like you were a melody he wanted to memorise, only spurred you on.

"That’s it," he praised, his tone dropping lower, rougher, as his lips brushed against your ear. "You’re perfect, baby, every fucking inch of you."

His fingers slipped higher, grasping the plush of your hips as he pulled you closer, his hips pressing up slightly to meet your movements, a soft moan spilling out your lips as the rough denim of his jeans scraped against the soft crotch of your panties; kissing your clit so deliciously you could help but push back harder, desperate for some friction. His grin turned almost wicked, his voice dropping to a growl as he added, "Let me see all of you, baby."

Aemond’s words curled around you, igniting a fire in your chest that burned and tore through you with every passing second. His eye flicked down to where your bodies moved in rhythm before meeting your gaze again, the intensity in his expression making you feel both vulnerable and unstoppable.

"That’s my girl," he murmured, his hands tightening on your hips, guiding your movements with more purpose. The rough fabric of his jeans against your core only added to the sensation, the friction sparking a need that seemed to consume every thought in your head as soft little moans spilt from your lips.

You tilted your head back at the feeling, your hips moving on their own as he leaned back on the bed, looking up at you with a dark look as he watched you take your pleasure. It was going to be enough to make you cum at this rate, the hardened feel of his length pushing against you and the jeans making the crotch of your panties slicker and slicker as you practically humped him like an animal in heat. He has the smuggest look on his face as your eyes fluttered softly, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip trying to focus on that burning pleasure between your legs.

"Aemond," you whimpered as your eyes fluttered shut, fingers grasping tighter into the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his name on your lips sending a visible shiver through him.

He let out a low, satisfied hum, his hands moving up to cradle your waist as his hips rolled up to meet yours. "Say it again," he demanded softly, his voice like velvet in your ears, "I want to hear you."

"Aemond," you repeated, louder this time, your voice trembling with pathetic whine, the weight of everything you felt in that moment crushing at your chest.

He could only coo at you softly as if your desperation was the sweetest melody he’d ever heard. His lips were carved into a permanent smirk, the kind that made your stomach flutter and your core tighten.

"Look you at you," He cooed, his hands gliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin beneath your ribs appreciatively. "Humping at me like a little bunny."

Your hips bucked instinctively at that, a quiver in your movement as his words settled into you, the friction sending sparks shooting through your body as a needy moan slipped past your lips.

"Aemond," you whimpered again, the sound more like a plea now, your head tilting back as the pleasure coursed through you in waves.

"Fuck, look at you," he growled, his hands tightening their grip on you as he rolled his hips up harder, matching your rhythm perfectly. The sensation was almost too much, the rough denim of his jeans and the wet fabric of your panties creating a torturous friction that had you trembling begging for more. "Do you like that baby, being called bunny?"

Your breath hitched at his question, your movements faltering for a moment as his words wrapped around you. The pet name, soft and teasing, sent a new wave of heat rushing through you, making your cheeks flush. You nodded, unable to form words, your hips resuming their desperate grind against him as your hands fisted tighter in his shirt.

Aemond chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your chest as he leaned up, his torso meeting yours, his lips brushing against your ear. "I think you do," he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "My little bunny, so desperate for me, aren’t you?"

"Yes," you gasped, the confession spilling from your lips without hesitation, your body moving instinctively in search of more of the delicious friction. Your head tilted back again, exposing the length of your neck to him, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. His lips found the sensitive skin there, pressing kisses that were both soft and possessive, his teeth grazing lightly before sucking a mark into your skin.

"My sweet little bunny," he praised, his voice muffled against your neck as his hands gripped your waist tighter, guiding your movements. His hips rolled up to meet yours with each grind, and the pressure against your core sent sparks shooting through you, each one more intense than the last.

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you felt the tension building in your stomach, the heat coiling tighter with every pass of your hips over his. "Aemond," you breathed, your voice trembling as you clung to him desperately, your body trembling from the effort of holding on to the edge.

"That’s it, bunny," he coaxed, his tone both commanding and tender as his eye locked onto yours. His smirk softened, replaced by something almost reverent as he watched you come undone above him. "Let go for me, show me how good you can be…"

His words stupidly pushed you over the edge, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the burning tension in your stomach snapped and a wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body shuddered against his, the feeling of your walls fluttering around nothing and your movements faltering as you buried your face in his neck, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Aemond��s hands never left you, steadying you through each shiver of your body, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your temple. "There you go," he murmured, his voice soothing as he ran a hand up and down your back. "That’s my good girl."

You felt his grin against your skin as his fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties, a teasing edge to his tone as he added, "But we’re not done yet, bunny. I want all of you."

As you slumped against him, your body still trembling from the aftermath of your release, Aemond's arms tightened around you, holding you securely in his lap. His breath was warm against your temple, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he pressed a lingering kiss to your hair. The room felt hotter, like someone had turned up the heat as you nuzzled pathetically against him, a gentle needy kiss being pressed to his jaw as you sought out his comfort. Something in his position had you sinking into a different side of yourself, ready and willing to be taken care of by him.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his tone soft but laced with an undercurrent of need that made your heart stutter. His hands slid down to your hips again, a pat on this skin as he held you steady, leaning back slightly and scanning your face. "But now it’s my turn, bunny”

The heat in his voice sent another rush of anticipation through you, even as your body felt boneless and pliant in his hands. Aemond’s hands slid up your sides, his touch firm yet tender as he guided you to kneel on the bed.

"Good girl," he praised, his gaze burned into yours, filled with a mix of affection and hunger as he reached for the button of his jeans. "Come on, bunny. I want you to do the honours."

"Stay just like that," he instructed, his voice low and commanding, the dark edge of it sending a thrill down your spine. He moved off the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as he moved to stand at the edge, the camcorder now firmly in his grip. His eye roamed over your form, appreciation burning in his gaze as he adjusted the angle of the lens to frame you perfectly.

As you helped him shimmy out of his jeans the fabric resting at the middle of his thigh, the bulge beneath his boxers became impossible to ignore. He was bigger than you thought, and you’d already humped yourself silly on him, his black boxers did nothing to hide that he was bigger than you’d taken before, thicker too as you spotted a small wet patch on the fabric from where he was clearly leaking. Your gaze flickered up to meet his as you spotted it, and the smirk that curved his lips made your cheeks burn with equal parts excitement and shyness.

"Don’t get shy on me now," Aemond teased; his voice a low purr as he guided your hands to the waistband of his boxers, your hand skimming past his length. "You’ve been so good for me, bunny. Show me how much you want to keep being good."

Swallowing hard your fingers curled into the elastic of the waistband, and with a breath you tugged the fabric down, freeing him from the confines of his boxers. The sight of him, hard and already glistening with evidence of his arousal, made your breath hitch. He was too heavy to stand attention, the sigh of his hanging between his thighs had your core burning even more as you imagined how exactly it was going to feel to take it. Aemond groaned softly as the cool air hit him, trying his best to keep the camera steady as he pointed it down at you.

"That’s my girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Now, come here."

Your cheeks flushed, the weight of his gaze, and the camera lens and the red light, made you feel exposed in a way that was both thrilling and intoxicating. You shifted on your knees, leaning forward slightly, your body arching instinctively to give him a better view as you looked up at him.

"You can touch bunny," he growled against your lips, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Show me how good you can be for me."

Aemond groaned as you watched your hand hesitantly come up to grasp him. He was heavy in your palm, your fingers barely meeting as you gave him an experimental tug, the skin silky smooth as you looked at him properly; he was unfairly pretty down there, his head flushed the same colour as his lips as you spotted small droplets weeping from the tip.

You could tell that he was letting you take the wheel on this one, his gaze and the camera staring down at you as you softly started moving your wrist over him. He let out a soft groan at that, your eyes blinking up at him for any sort of praise as you did, the tears from his slit sliding down with each stroke aided in the movement – lubricating each tug as his breathing picked up slightly.

"Good girl," he praised, the words a growl as he pushed his hips closer, the camcorder capturing every inch of you while he did. “You can taste, bunny, I know you want to.”

And boy did you want to.

The red light recording you became just another part of your vision as you kept eye contact with the lens, your lips parting slightly to place a soft kiss on his weeping tip – the groan that he let out at the contact was almost enough to have your eyes rolling slightly but you held it together. There wasn’t any other thought in your head at that moment, your mind focused purely on hearing that noise again. Aemond seemed to be enjoying the simplest of touches, his breathing picking up softly at your tongue flicked out to lick softly at his tip.

"Fuck," he breathed out quietly, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head as you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, his fingers sinking into your hair as he tugged your head forward a little more; a small giggle passing your lips as you kept your eyes on him, "You’re going to put me in an early grave, bunny."

With head soft tug of your hair, you could tell that he was coaxing you to take him in your mouth, the feel of his pre-cum making your lips glossy in a way that had his face flushing with want behind the camera. The feeling of erotic, and despite being unsure to begin with, you’d never felt more wanted by someone at that moment, that’s why you had no issue parting your lips for him and slowly sinking him into the wet heat of your mouth. A soft moan passed your lips as his musky taste hit your tongue, and the silky-smooth skin glided him in as far as you could handle; a soft gagging sound slipping out as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“That’s it…” He groaned out softly, his fingers quivering in your hair as you gave a soft suck, your cheeks hollowing out and your tongue lavishing his length as you pulled your head back, “Pretty, pretty girl…” He said as the camera angled more towards your mouth.

You could hear the sound of the camera zooming in as you kept moving slowly up and down his length. A soft gagging sound every time he hit the back of your throat drowned out by the sound of his breathing and airy moans, your hand stroking what couldn’t fit. You imagined it was an erotic sight, made even more by the fact he was filming everything like you were some video vixen.

“So, fucking good bun,” He moaned softly, unashamed at any noises spilling out that pout, his hand tightening in your hair to get you to speed up slightly. “Taking me in your mouth like a good girl…”

Every time you sank down, he held you there a little longer, your nose nearly touching the base as you gagged around him. His teeth grit at the feeling, the wet cavern of your mouth doing wonders for him, made all the better by the drool dribbling out the corners of our mouth. He wasn't forcing you down though, you could still move away if you wanted to, and every time you pulled back you panted softly for air. Your lips kissing softly at his tip while you caught your breath.

When he pulled you back in, you could tell there was an air of something desperate about him as he groaned a bit louder, sinking in and out of your mouth with more intent, more purpose. His hand tugged more at your hair as he began to move you more and more.

“Let me fuck that mouth, bun,” He panted softly, his stomach tensing every so often like he was holding something back, your eyes glazed and looking up at him. “Will you?” He asked breathily like he was whispering to the sick part of your brain directly.

From everything that had happened so far, you knew that you were safe with him and that he wouldn’t hurt you, and the sick part of your brain was ready to give everything up for him and just let him use you how he wanted. At your lack of answer, he pulled you off him, a soft pop as he slid out of your mouth, his free hand moving to wipe the drool off your chin.

“Bunny,” He murmured, tilting your chin farther up – his body leaning away from you for a second to place the camera back on the nightstand, “You with me?”

You could only nod, a small smile on your face, “I am, sorry… I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?” He smirked softly, tapping your chin affectionately, “Is my cock not pleasing enough to you, bunny?”

The flush on your face burned harder at that, your teeth nibbling at your lip as you tried to look away – a bit embarrassed to be caught so in your head at the stupidest of times. He was all over you, his taste in your mouth, his touch on your skin – it was addicting, to say the least. He was too beautiful, and that needy voice in your head begged, pleaded and cried to just let him have you any and all ways.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” You mumbled softly, a shy twinge to your voice like you were ashamed to even be admitting that you wanted it, blinking at him like you could communicate with just your eyes.

“What do we say when we want something, bunny?” He smirked, his hand grasping your chin a bit tighter as he bent at the waist to level with you, looking down his nose at you, “Use your big girl words now, I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

The desperation and the humiliation clawed at your throat, the burning between your legs leaving you stupidly uncomfortable, your thighs squeezing together on the bed to try and ease that feeling.

“Please,” Your voice was little, barely there, like the words were just another breath out but he wasn’t having that, his hand tightening again as his eyebrow raised silently. “Aemond, please…” The desperation crawled out your mouth in the form of a whimper, pathetic and needy like yourself as it spilt out.

The tut that left his lips was humiliating, something you’d do at a pet that was misbehaving or you were displeased with, his thumb brushing against your skin tauntingly as he gazed at you, “That wasn’t so hard now was it, bunny?”

The fact all of this was on camera didn’t help either, the red light on the nightstand taunting you from the corner of your eye.

“Sweet little thing,” He patronised you softly, craning your head up as far as it could go as his hand squeezed your mouth open, lips parting with a soft breath, “You need to be good and ask for things, bunny…”

The word sorry died on your tongue as you looked at him, he didn’t want your words right now.

“I’ll use that pretty mouth of yours,” He cooed, the words filled with taunt and want equally as he looked at you amused, “Open your mouth wider for me.”

If he told you to jump off a cliff right now, you believed that you would, your mouth opening wider under his hold with a slight “Ah” noise.

The amusement danced in his gaze at that, “Tongue too, bunny…”

He let out a soft hum as your tongue peaked out of your mouth, appreciative that you could in fact listen to him, his head leaning down closer to you as his gaze shifted from your eye to your open mouth.

“Keep it nice and wide,” He breathed softly, a subtle squeeze to your jaw pinching it just ever so slightly wider as he hovered over the open cavern, “There we go…”

You could already tell what he was going to do before he even spoke, his tongue rolling in his cheek slightly with a dark look, his lips pursing softly. Time stopped in that moment though, as you watched a glob of spit drip from his mouth to yours, the feeling viscous and wet on your tongue as you moaned out from your open mouth. He could only quirk his mouth at that as he stood back to full height, hishands reaching to shed his shirt.

“Keep that there, bunny,” He commanded softly as his free hand grasped his cock again, giving it a little tug for good measure before it hovered near your mouth, “You’ll get what you want.”

“If you need to breathe or you want me to stop, pinch my thigh, bunny,” He directed gruffly, his tip skimming your lips as you let out a noise of understanding, “Relax for me.”

Your hand flew to brace itself on his thigh as he slid back into your mouth, both of his hands moving to sink into the back of your hair as your lips sealed back around him. The moan he let out was euphoric as his head tilted back slightly, his hair shaking softly down his back as his hips sawed back before pushing forward. The gag was stronger this time as each thrust left his tip kissing the back of your throat, the slick suckling noises filling the space as he moved freely in and out of your mouth at his own pace.

The groans and moans he let out with each thrust were beautiful, you’d never been with such a vocal man before, and he was letting you know it was enough every second of it as you sucked harder around him. He had left you were a free hand of your own, the one that was bracing on his thigh grasping his skin tightly as he used your mouth with abandon, your free one was yours to do as you pleased.

The panties you were wearing were thoroughly soaked through, the gusset of them just a sop of fabric you were wearing as the burning increased, your eyes flicking up to his tilting head as you caressed your thigh and upwards.

With your moans picking up, each wet stroke of your fingers combined with the increased thrusting into your mouth, it was no given that Aemond was curious about what you were doing. His head tilted back to look at you with a stupidly amused look, a smirk painting his lips as he continued to patronise you.

“Filthy little thing,” He chuckled through a moan, his eyebrows raised slightly with pleasure as his lips parted watching you touch yourself while he used your mouth, “I’ll allow it for now.”

He seemed to enjoy the moan that vibrated around him, a groan of his own passing his lips as your hand sunk into your panties. It took microseconds to slide your fingers over your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts to ease the pleasure burning between your thighs.

“Good girl…” He breathed, his hips moving a bit quicker into your mouth as you touched yourself, your eyes shut as you focused on the stimulation of your mouth and your fingers, “You like that, bun?” He chuckled faintly.

“I bet you do…” He hummed, his fingers tightening in your hair starting to move your head how he wanted a bit more.

And boy, did you.

While your fingers weren’t pushing you towards another peak, they were turning this experience into something so filthy that you were sure you’d dream of it for years to come. The feeling of drool dripping down your throat, and your eyes watering as you gazed up at him. He was so invested in your mouth, his grunt and hisses tickling your brain as he met your eyes. A filthy smile on his lips as he sped up slightly, his eyebrows pulling with feeling.

“Will you let me cum in your mouth, baby?” He breathed out, the sound so airy that you barely caught it.

With your mouth a little preoccupied, all you could do was moan around him needily, the thought of him filling your mouth had you fluttered around nothing. Your fingers picked up with his hips as he forced himself more and more into your mouth, the gagging noise getting louder as his tip kept kissing your throat.

He gave you some reprieve as he pulled you off him slightly, your chest heaving and mouth swollen while you gave you a second to breathe. Your lips glossy with his precum as you looked up at him with heavy eyes. The moment was over before it could begin as he sunk back into your mouth, his hand moving off your head for a moment to brush a tear away from your watery eyes before getting back to it.

His stomach was clenching right before your eyes as he lost himself in the feeling of your mouth, his grunts getting breathless and needy. You were nothing but a vessel for his pleasure but you loved every second of his, your finger on your clit basically forgotten as you worked on suckling and lavishing your tongue over him.

His noises were getting louder and louder, his own eyes shut with a twist on his face; he was truly beautiful like this, “Fuck, baby…”

You would have giggled if he wasn’t filling your airways, the feel and taste of his precum stronger as he leaked into your mouth.

You could have stared at him for hours, sat with his cock in your mouth for the rest of time if I meant seeing him like this, but fate was cruel in its own ways.

The subtle tightening in your hair told you what was going to happen before it could, his hips snapping a few more times before he hissed loudly.

“Fuck.” He practically snapped, a final moan coming from you as he filled your mouth.

It sent your eyes rolling slightly as he landed in your mouth, some of his cum slipping down your throat and most of it on your tongue as he drew his cock out of your lips. His hand instantly flew to your jaw with a feral look in his eye to keep your mouth open.

He softly squeezed at the bone to keep it propped open as his lips parted, a soft chuckle coming out as he watched you roll his spend on your tongue slightly.

“Look at you…” He smirked softly, his hand forcing your head up more, “So pretty with me in your mouth…”

He placed a knee on the bed to get closer to your level, his body curling over yours as you smiled slightly, sticking your tongue further out for him to see what lay there. You were sure you looked a mess, spit on your chin and tears down your face, your lips throbbing slightly from use. But none of it mattered in that moment if it meant he kept looking at you like he was.

“Messy…” He chuckled with his lips hovering over yours, glancing between your eyes and mouth before his lips curled.

An honest shocked noise slipped out as his lips met yours, eyes slipping shut with a moan as his tongue slipped into your mouth; curling around yours and his spend as you swallowed some of it. It was disgustingly hot the way your lips met, the taste of him passing between the two of you as he laughed against your mouth, something feral bleeding into the tone as you rose up onto your knees with him.

Holding yourself up with his waist, the two of you exchanged spit and kisses with wet noises that would make anyone burst into flames. The kiss was intense with something so hot that you were surprised when he pressed forward, his arm slipping around your waist to tumble you both onto the best. Hands grabbing at skin, his own sliding into the back of your underwear to start shoving it down.

“Off.” He grunted with a bite to your lip, leaving no room for argument.

It was a haste to let go of him, his hands aiding yours to shove the offensive fabric down, caring little where they landed as they got pushed down your thighs and kicked off your foot. His hand was harsh on your thigh as yours sank into his hair, tugging with intent as he grunted into your mouth, biting your lip in retaliation for the tug.

Both of you were panting as you pulled apart, his eye dark as he looked at you flush and laid out in his sheets. His hand squeezing your thigh slightly with a tut, as he looked between you and the middle of the bed, a silent command to move.

You’d laugh at the power he had over you if you didn’t do what he said instantly.

It was like there was something lodged in your throat as you crawled backwards on his sheets, the softness against your skin doing nothing to ease the heat rising in you as he pressed and pressed you back – your body laying out like his own personal buffet. He was quick to secure your knees in his hands as he knelt between your parted legs, whistling lowly, mockingly, as he glanced down at your wet folds. Staring like he currently wasn’t standing at full mast.

“Poor thing…” He drawled with an amused smile twitching at his lips, his palms rough and warm against your thighs as they brushed up, the silver of his rings warmed to his skin, “So needy and for what? You couldn’t even get yourself off…”

The whine that bubbled in your throat with his teasing was pathetic, akin to a wounded animal as he jested at your dismissed orgasm. You ached so badly to close your thighs and relieve the fading burn, uncomfortable with the cool breeze hitting your wetness like a kiss from winter.

“I was playing so nice with you, bun…” He tutted softly, one of his hands letting go of your thigh to brace himself by your shoulder, sinking into the mattress as he hovered over you with a look that you could only describe as hungry. “But you got greedy, didn’t you?”

His eyebrow twitched at you as he repeated himself, your eyes gazing up at him, a soft sheen in your eyes as your frustration built, “Didn’t you, baby?”

He chuckled softly as your face twisted in discomfort, a crackle in your voice as you found the courage to reply, “Aemond…”

Oh, it was a desperate whine.

Oh, how he ate it up.

His chuckle was more of a taunt as he pressed his body closer to yours, skin warm as it touched, his nose drawing over your jawline as he breathed you in. Your own eyes fluttered as the caress of his warm breath, your core clenching as one of his hands dragged up your thigh, fingers edging its innermost parts like he would the frets of his guitar.

“Now, now…” He hums softly, laying a soft kiss on your jaw, chuckling as he drags his lips down your neck, more soft kisses being pressed every so often, “Ask nicely, and I’ll give in to your greed…”

His fingers brushed your inner thigh like a whisper, moving just enough to feel the texture as they ghosted up, palm spanning the skin.

Your breathing was shaky in its own right, your own hands drawing up his sides and to his back, feeling him properly as he played with you, your breath moving the soft hairs by his temple.

“Please,” You swallowed thicky, your nails sinking into his skin, “Aemond, please…”

Part of you wondered if maybe he was summoned from whatever lustful circle of hell demons resided, his touch closer to feeling like you were falling over the edge as he held you over it by a string.

“Good girl…” He hummed warmly, his teeth nipping at your neck in retaliation for the grab, his tongue swiping over the skin to soothe his bite, “You make everything so hard for yourself…”

If you hadn’t already laid your sins out bare for him to pluck at, to video, you’d be utterly ashamed of yourself at the way you keened when his fingers slid over your folds. An amused noise passed his lips on your neck as he drew up the same way someone would turn the pages of a book. Delicately, with the purpose of knowing what else there was on the next page.

His lips were as sinful as his hands as he laid kiss after kiss on your neck, biting with what would be violets blooming on your skin. The ache of the bite caused your head to drop back onto his sheets with soft pants, giving him the space he needed to paint his pictures.

“You’re practically drooling…” He taunted you, as a soft pleasured breath left your lips, his middle finger rough from strings ghosting over your clit – a warm shot of lightning catching in your stomach. “All for me?”

All you could do was nod as he grinned against your skin, his middle finger delicately brushing over your clit in soft strokes; his knee drawing up to the underside of your thigh to push your leg open further, a flower blooming. There was the familiar burn that spread from your clit and radiated up your abdomen with the tease of his middle finger, switching between a soft caress to a rub circle around as he pushed and pushed and pushed.

Your hips were squirming on the bed, trying to push yourself further into his touch so he’d fully give in, but with each movement, he jutted his hand back enough to keep you at the very edge of his touch. He was playing a game with you, even though you had pleaded for his touch, trying to see how many ways he could make you beg before he gave in. Even without words, his actions were enough that a part of you wanted to push him back, sink your teeth into his shoulder to see how he’d react.

He'd most likely like that thought.

“Please…” It was said a subtle turn of your head, your lips ghosted over his temple, breathing him in like he did you. “Please be kind, I…”

“Kind?” He tutted softly, his lips dragging down your collarbone, pressing a kiss to the top of your breast, “I told you I wasn’t going to be kind, baby…”

Your hand sank into the back of his hair, tangling in the soft strands as your chest pushed up towards his lips, your breathing hitching with the tingle of your skin.

Soft moans and breaths were spilling from your lips like you were resigned to haunting his room from now on; a single hand would be marked on your grave as cause of death with his name next to it. His touches a signature to the absolute dissolve of your sanity.

It wasn’t mercy he was taking on you, it was the attitude that he had to take you apart piece by piece as he grinned against your skin. His middle finger pressed forward first, grazing past your clit to sink down, notching at your entrance as he wiggled his finger there teasingly.

“Is this what you wanted?” He grinned, looking up at you from your chest, “Use your words…”

“Yes…” You breathed pathetically, his finger barely sinking in before it drew back out, the feeling of your walls fluttering around empty space driving you mad. “Gods, yes…”

He seemed pleased with your pleas, his teeth affectionally nipping at your nipple as he finally sank his finger in, your lips parting with a soft moan as your walls fluttered around every bump. His hands were so much bigger than yours, built for playing guitar and generally rougher from actual work, and from the feel of his middle finger, you were ready to give in.

The digit moving and sinking with a languid pace, curling teasingly to brush that rough patch inside you.

“So needy…” He cooed teasingly, his lips kissing back up your chest and neck to whisper in your ear. “It’s cute, baby…”

If you were sane, you would have died at the noises coming from between your legs with each sink of his finger – your mind not even on the camera at the moment as his thumb started to graze your clit again, the quiet room filling with that familiar clicking noise of wetness. Your head barely turned to meet his next to you, your eyes locking as you saw just how dark his eye had gotten with playing with you; your noses knocking together as he breathed you in. Lips barely touching as his finger started to curl more.

“You're soaked…” Aemond hummed softly as your eyes fluttered, a hitching breath leaving your mouth as he grazed that spot. “You think you can take another one, baby?” He teased softly, a nipping peck on your lips.

Before you could respond, he tutted, an amused breath pushing out his nose, “I don’t know why I’m asking, you will take another one.”

A part of you wondered what circle of hell crafted him, the way his lips parted mockingly with yours as he sunk another finger in – a taunting look in his eye that only added to the pleasure as he curled his digits experimentally. The feeling of your legs twitching on the bed and your hand flying down to hold his wrist was humiliating, his rings nudging your entrance with each flick of his wrist. Wanton moans spilling out as he got a little faster with each flick.

He wasn’t a lover that talked you through it, he was a lover that just talked to you, stirred you up and broke you down.

“You’re so tense, baby…” He chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip, “I thought you wanted to come?”

It was a needy strangle in your throat as you resigned yourself to the feeling of his fingers starting to get faster and faster. The delicious fluttering of your walls, coupled with the nudging of his rings, had you wishing that you could get him to sink all the way in with the rings too.

You knew being a guitarist was benefitting him at that moment, the way his arm was tensing without cramping as he did ‘come hither’ after ‘come hither’ motion inside you, your walls fluttering and tensing around him.  All the while, his thumb flicked at your clit the same way he probably plucked his guitars, just enough to get you to sing.

If the way your slick noises and breathy mewls filled the room, he knew how to make you sing for him. His eye burned into you, his voice low with his lips brushing the side of your face as he spoke of all the things he goaded you more.

“Doing so good for me, bun…” He chuckled softly, his lip dragging down your neck and nipping whatever skin he could; his praise shooting through you like a star falling out of the sky. “You were always going to be good for me though, weren’t you?”

The nod you gave in response was washed with sweat and desperation as your hips started to push up into the feeling of him. The burning in your lower stomach started to radiate and spread with each cruel and slick flick of his hand. Your fingers kept digging into his skin, no doubt leaving your marks behind. You were seeking something, anything, to ground yourself as the heat of pleasure rolled through you, the feeling starting to spread down your thighs. The noises you made got more and more desperate with each clench of your walls, threatening to pull you under entirely.

“You gonna let go for me, hm?” Aemond was right there with you, gaze dark with desire, his breath warm against your neck as he murmured.

His voice was low, coaxing, but laced with something sharp—control barely held together as he watched you unravel beneath him. His fingers didn’t falter, working you over with devastating precision, pushing you closer, closer—until the tension inside you felt unbearable.

Aemond shifted, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, nipping softly at the lobe. “I can feel you,” he murmured, voice rough with taunt and heady pleasure. “So close, just let go, bunny…”

The words sent a shudder through you, cries starting to fill the room as the pressure in your cunt grew. When his fingers found that perfect spot, curling up in a way that left no room for resistance, your body answered him. It was like something had snapped something inside of you, the heat flooding every nerve as you spilt around his fingers.

The familiar wetness of your release pushing out, and the way your gummy ways clamped down; pleasure tearing through you in waves. You barely registered the sound of your broken moans and sobs of his name, the way you trembled in his sheets, held firm by his touch, by him.

Aemond groaned, his grip tightening as he felt you come apart beneath him. His lips finally found yours again, licking into your mouth and swallowing every gasp, every cry, as if he wanted to devour the feeling right along with you.

“You’re perfect like this,” he whispered against your mouth, his tone slightly softer now, reverent almost as his fingers slowed. The moans coming out of your mouth softened too as you shook in his sheets still, the familiar dampness coating your thighs cooling with the air. But the hunger in his gaze hadn’t dimmed - not in the slightest.

And you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

The moment’s reprieve he gave you from your last orgasm was more for his benefit than yours, his stance ever smug as he stroked your hip softly; his form lounging next to you like a deity, like he hadn’t just blasted you into another dimension.

It was an intimate embrace, or as close to it as it could get. Your head turning toward him, gaze hazy, reverent, like one might look at a saviour. But there was nothing saintly about him. No, he was not benevolent in any pure sense of the word. He was a giver, yes, but perhaps too much of one. If the trembling in your thighs and the stray tears tracking down your face were anything to go by.

“Don’t give me that look…” Aemond chuckled deeply, his hand reaching to brush your cheek, “I’m not even close to being done with you yet, our night is just starting…”

“You’re going to kill me.” You breathed softly, your own hand coming up to touch his, fingers spanning his wrist as you stroked it delicately.

Your fingers traced along his wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath his skin as if trying to ground yourself in him. A man who had so thoroughly unravelled you. Your touch was delicate. “And I think you’ll enjoy it.” He retorted.

Aemond huffed his first real laugh to you all night, but it wasn’t at the joke, it was at you. His eye was nefarious as he leaned down close to your face, glancing at you with a look you couldn’t place.

His look alone sent a shiver down your spine, anticipation curling low in your stomach, even as exhaustion clung to your limbs. You should have been spent, should have been begging for rest, but the way he looked at you, like something precious and breakable yet utterly his, had you curled toward him before you could stop yourself. Needy for his heat.

Aemond was too pleased with himself at your closeness, his fingers drifted lower, tracing the hollow of your throat, pausing where your pulse fluttered wildly beneath his touch. His smirk deepened, his thumb pushing softly on your windpipe – it wasn’t to choke you, more to keep you in place and at his command.

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around his wrist, but you didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. Aemond leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to your jaw, a low mumble against your skin as he spoke.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured against your skin, his lips dragging down the line of your throat, teeth grazing but never quite biting, he had left his purple flowers earlier. “Are you tired?” He taunted.

You swallowed hard, your throat moving over the subtle press of his thumb as words slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

“No.”

His chuckle was low, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his own filled with something delicious. “Good,” Aemond murmured.

There was a slight pause as he took you in, undoubtedly looking at the flush colouring your face, or the way your pupils expanded to the point of looking like black wells. For a moment, a brief flicker, you could have sworn that there was something on his face that went beyond pure lust – but whatever it was, it didn’t linger. Something in his eye snapped back to his usual form, and his words tumbled out like silk between his lips.

“You’ve already given me so much,” he murmured, almost thoughtful. Then, a wicked grin. “But I think you can give me more.”

The pressure of his thumb dragging down your throat and back to your hip was humbling, the way something so small could have you ready to kneel so quickly. But whatever you could say about it was taken, his hand spanning your hip to pull you towards him on your side, the familiar feel of his cock hardened against your stomach reminding you that it in fact was not over in the slightest.

“Get up.” He demanded softly, his hand giving your side a final squeeze before he shifted himself.

There was an air of confusion as you watched him move to lay his back against the headboard, your eyes flickering to the camera on the bedside as his body stretched out with legs slightly spread. Aemond had a look in his eyes that told you that getting up was no argument, that the shaking in your thighs and the tiredness behind your lids wasn’t to stop you.

There was an air of silence that was building, your eyes watching as his hand brushed down his stomach briefly to grasp himself again, his own pleasure now on the forefront of his mind as he slowly stroked.

“I won’t ask again.” His voice was low but firm, hand moving casually like he wasn’t stroking himself, “Move.”

It was with a small sniffle that you got out, you weren’t really sad nor upset with the situation, just tired as you sat up; legs curling under you briefly before you crawled on the sheets towards him. His eye was positively wicked in the dim light as he looked at you crawling to him, his free hand reaching out to adjust the camera on the bedside to get all of you as you got to his parted thighs. Body kneeling between them patiently.

There was a beat of stillness before his free hand moved to reach out to you, your own hesitating slightly on your thigh before grasping it. He hummed softly as he tugged you forward, looking up slightly as you rose on your knees, letting go of your palm to smooth down your hips and tug you even further forward. It was a sign to straddle him.

His cock was laying heavy on his stomach as he let it go, both hands moving and grasping your hips as your knees raised to rest either side of him; sliding to your backside slightly to squeeze and coax you into sitting down. He shushed you softly as your sensitive core touched him, hands sliding up to your waist to press you as close as possible while your arms slid around his neck; his hair still as soft as ever as it slipped over your skin.

“You’ve been so good for me bun…” He hummed, his thumb brushing your skin maddeningly, “But you know what I want you to do right?”

A soft puff of air passed out your lips as your hips lazily moved against his cock, your core fragile to the touch after 2 climaxes and touching. It basically had its own heartbeat at this point. Gentle whines building in your throat as he chuckled, amused by your behaviour.

“Oh…” He chuckled deeply, guiding you a little, “You’re so close, baby but not quite.”

“I need a little longer.” You whimpered softly, your head dipping down to nuzzle at his cheek, “Please…”

“Do you?” He teased with a turn of his head, meeting your lips briefly, “I think you don’t, baby, be good now…”

Before you could stop it, a huff came tumbling out of your mouth like a spoilt child – the noise so clear that your eyes widened quickly before registering what you’d done. You couldn’t even get the sound of an apology out your mouth before you felt a force quickly smack down on your behind, an undignified noise tearing out your mouth as the sound of smacked skin filled the room.

The heat bloomed on your backside as you looked at him, shocked, one of your hands moving to cover the area as he gave you a heated look.

“I was planning on being at least a little nice to you, baby.” He scoffed softly, slight heat to his words as he knocked your hand away from your behind, “But you just had to go and be a little brat about it, hm?”

A slight whine came out as your eyes softened, “I’m sorry, I—”

“You what?” He taunted, this thumb brushing over your heated skin, his hand quickly raising again to smack back down without even blinking, “Try harder.”

“I’m sorry…” You bubbled softly, your eyes stinging slightly at the thought of disappointing him that you reached out to touch his face, his chin jutting away slightly with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean it, I just… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He repeated with a slightly raised brow, his eye scanning your face with a dark look, “You’re sorry, baby, you didn’t mean it?” He mocked you slightly, adding a whine to his voice to really drive the point.

“Let me make it up to you…” You gulped softly, hands dragging down his chest as you pressed forward with glossy eyes, “Please…?”

The startle you got as he laughed was slight, the sound so deep and rich that you wondered what exactly was funny about what you said. You could only look at him confused as he pulled you further into him, his cock nudging at your folds, head tilting up to look at you with a grin.

“Baby, you don’t have to ask to make it up to me…” He taunted you softly, hand grabbing at your sore cheek for emphasis, “You’re going to.”

Whatever breath you had left in your lungs hitched as you looked at him, his eyes taunting you to see if you’d use your safe word or not. But no part of you wanted to, you wanted to push and push to see just how exactly he could put you in your place. The idea of him breaking you down was as delicious as Eve being called to the apple. With a thick gulp, you nodded, your hand reaching between the two of you with parted lips as you grasped at his cock; the appendage giving a subtle throb as your fist closed around him.

You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and no part of you was ready to say no to him anymore as you raised up onto your knees; eyes flickering down slightly wondering just how you were going to take him. He was big, bigger than you’d had before that much was clear, lengthy with enough girth that you were sure he’d fill you lusciously. There was a slight hesitation as you lower yourself down, grabbing him slightly through your folds to catch on your clit with bated breath, fingers edging him further down to sit at your entrance.

All the while he looked at you like you were his last meal, his lips parted and eyes dark as he watched you hover over him with a subtle sway of your hips. A stuttered breath passed out your lips as you started to sink down, a soft noise forced out with the delicious ache of taking him. Centimetre by centimetre, you felt your body make space for him in your gummy walls; the fluttering of the intrusion caused a groan to pull out his lips.

“Fuck.” He breathed, his eyes cast down and his hands tightening on your hip as he aided you in sinking down on him, a loud moan in there as your heat enveloped him. “Doing so good, bun, making it up to me hm?”

He chuckled as you whined and moaned, sinking further and further down while he held onto you, “Looking so pretty on camera too, baby…”

Through a heady gaze, you turned your attention to the red light on the table, reminding you that everything was being captured for him – your hands reaching out to touch his face as you smashed your lips to his. Moaning as he finally sunk all the way in, his length twitching softly within your walls as he groaned against your lips.

He didn’t give you a chance to kiss him before he was pulling away, watching as you squirmed slightly on his cock, back lent against the headboard as he looked at you with an equally potent gaze.

“You can move, baby…” He chuckled, hands brushing teasingly over your hips, your own hands moving to his waist like earlier.

A soft groan fell out your lips as you looked at him pleadingly, being on top was never your favourite without help, but you figured he knew that by now.

“Please…” You sniffle softly, shifting your hips lightly as his cock kisses something inside that left you tingling, “Can you help me?”

He only tutted in response, “You’re supposed to be making it up to me, baby.”

“Aemond.” You whimpered slightly, shifting your hips more into a lazy grind for some kind of friction. “Please.”

Aemond only chuckled in response, leaning further back with a smug smirk; he was getting off on watching you not want to do it, your teeth sinking into your lip as you started to grind a little harder. He wasn’t going to help you, and it was maddeningly attractive, leaving you to your own devices to try and get off while he taunted and tutted at you.

You tried to brace yourself as your hands moved to rest on your thighs, a needy look on your face as you started to move your hips over him. He was kissing your insides like he belonged there with each grind, your clit rubbing on his public bone and forcing breathy moans to fill the space. It was a heady combination of desperation and just pure wanted as he watched you, the only sign he was even fazed being the subtle picking up of his breath and his flexing fingers on your hip.

“Look at you…” He drawled out softly, eye casting all over your form as you worked yourself up on his cock, “So pretty and so needy, is this you being sorry baby?”

“Yes…” You mewled as you looked at him, nails digging into your skin as your hips moved, and moved, and moved. “I’m sorry…”

“Do you really want to make it up to me, baby?” He cooed at you like you would a toddler, one of his hands moving and thumb moving slightly into the crease in your thigh, “Make me happy?”

A frantic nod happened instantly as you breathed and moaned softly, “Yes.”

He chuckled darkly, leaning forward off the headboard – the feeling causing him to slide in deeper which you didn’t think was possible as a harsher moan left your mouth. His free hand slid from your hip, all the way up your breast to brush at your nipple softly before settling at the base of your throat. His hold was soft but with strong intent as it lay there in warning, his palm spanning the bottom and his fingers curling around with a twitch.

“Bounce bunny,” He taunted you, his lips meeting your jaw briefly, “Go on, be good.”

The filthy part of your brain complied instantly to his request, your head tilting back with broken moans as you started to move up and down on him, his lips parting in enjoyment as you took from him. This wasn’t a show for the cameras, this was pure unadulterated want as you bounced and moved on him, his cock sliding in and out of you with each smack of skin, filling his room with the thuds you hadn’t heard in a while. The two of you shared moans and groans with each movement, his lips kissing around the hold on your neck and your hands moving to his shoulders for leverage as you moved like you hadn’t in a while.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me bunny…” He moaned faintly against your skin, his hand tightening on your hip slightly as you buried your nose in his hair, preening softly at his praise, “You like the way I feel, bunny?”

You nodded with a mewl of agreement, panting into his hair as you bounced like a bunny in his lap. It was desperation really, but gods it felt amazing to have him kiss every bump and ridge of your inside like someone carved your hole out just for him.

“Feels good…” You moaned, your hands smoothing over his shoulder and to his back to bite your nails into.

You could feel his teeth show as your nails sunk into his skin, a breathy chuckle passing out his lips as you did, hand twitching on your neck, “You feel good, bunny…?”

“You take me so well,” He moved his mouth to your ear, nipping at your lobe, “Perfect little pussy was made for me, hm?”

His words curled like smoke into your ears, your eyes sinking to a half-lidded state as he spoke to the deep recesses of your brain. Your walls clamped around him as he did, forcing you to move a little bit harsher in his lap. The burning in your thighs was building, spreading from your knees all the way up but you couldn’t stop moving on him, grinding with a pathetic little whine with each roll down. You were pretty sure you did look like a needy bunny in his lap, fucking on him desperately to try and get off again like he hadn’t made you spill twice already; ignoring the burning in your legs and stomach that begged you to stop.

“Maybe I should keep you,” He chuckled pulling his head back slightly to look at your dishevelled state, “You’d like that thought wouldn’t you, keep you with me, warming my cock like the desperate little thing you are?”

“Please,” You begged, pressing your torso to his seeking his touch, “Please…”

Something about him forced you to your edges, pulling you over the edge of cliffs and into some dark pool below that you just couldn’t stop. He moans and groans against your neck wishing that he’d give you the tape of this once it was over, just so you’d have something to hold onto. Just so you could listen to him when you needed to get off.

Gods, you’d let him keep you, the rational part of your brain ready to put away any feminism you had to let him keep you needy and desperate in his lap for eternity.

“Needy little thing…” He taunted you, both his hands moving to your hips with a groan, “What a needy fucking thing you are…”

“Aemond…” You cried softly, the burning in your thighs getting worse with each bounce, “Please, I can’t—”

“You want me to take over is that it, baby?” He grinned at you, something heated behind it, “You’re supposed to be making it up to me, remember”

“Aemond…” You drawled out, trying not to slow down as he pushed and pushed you. “Please, please…”

Tears were pricking your eyes, gathering like pearls really to drop as the pain of overexerting yourself bled into the sheer pleasure of fucking him. The first of them slithering down your cheek as you looked at him, face full of want and anguish for him to take over. His healthy eye’s pupil was already are wide as the abyss, but something about watching a tear streak down your face only caused a glint to pass over it. His face stretched into something dark as he caught the tear with his lips, grinning like he’d discovered diamonds.

“Now, look at that…” He licked your cheek as another tear fell, your eyes closing at the feeling, he was feeding off those tears, “Bunny, you look so pretty when you cry…”

He was a bastard, but gods he was everything in that moment.

It wasn’t pity he took on you with his hands starting to help you, it was a need to see more of those delicious tears run down your face. His body leaned back for leverage as he started moving you up and down on him, like his own personal toy, his touch was harsher than yours, however. Each time he pulled you down only forced more noises out of your mouth, the smacking of skin getting louder and louder as he worked you over him.

The tears in your eyes didn’t lessen in the slightest, your wet gaze looking at him as they dripped with other intent. This wasn’t pain anymore, it was a burning gnawing feeling of lust building up again as your insides started to flame with another building climax. Aemond was grunting himself in pleasure, groans and moans spilling out as he looked up at you with need written on his own face. He wasn’t a needy man clearly, but in the moment, he looked at you like your cunt was god.

You were aiding him in any way you could in your bouncing, your legs practically spent as you tried to keep up the hopping but it was clear he was doing most of the work. Your hands held onto his as you moved and moved for him. There was the feeling of your eyes starting to roll as he moved his legs under you, his feet placing on the sheets to push up into you harder. Squeaks forced out as his hips started snapping up.

Aemond’s face was beautiful in the throes of pleasure, his cheeks taking on a soft flush, his gaze lush as he looked up at you with an almost soft look. He wasn’t being soft at the moment, but the pleasure coloured his face in the way you imagined a painting would look. His abs clenched with each thrust up. There was something in his gaze though, something calling that this wasn’t just it, but you couldn’t name it.

The burning in your stomach was spreading further and further, teetering on the edge of another climax as he fucked you from below. You knew this time you’d need a little more help to get there, not being used to having more than two orgasms in a night, so you felt no shame as your hand moved away from his to slide between the two of you. Fingers found your clit with ease as you rubbed, a choked moan croaking out as you tried to build up to another climax.

Aemond however had other plans, a tut snapping out his mouth instantly as his hand flew from your hip over yours, knocking it out the way for his own fingers. He wasn’t as soft as you, his own fingers intent on pushing you over the edge with a scream rather than a moan – it was overwhelming but you didn’t shy away from the intensity.

As he rubbed, your eyes looked over him so into giving pleasure, scanning him appreciatively; hands moving to smooth over his stomach as you just took him in. It was hot that all of this was being caught on camera, your eyes lazily drifting to the lens on the bedside as you stared at it – wondering if this would give him the same feeling it was giving you later on.

He could tell that you were nearly there by the noises, the way your warm walls got tighter and tighter around him, and the fact your face was flushing like a rose. A smirk drew up onto his lips as he shifted you slightly, his cock hitting that spot inside you that had your walls snapping around him. Eyes widening as you look at him, not even close to being there.

“Ah—” You cried softly, not panicked but worried about just how far this was going to go as he looked like he was pushing himself away from the edge, “What about—” You strangled out.

He only shushed you with a lazy grin, his head tilting back slightly as he forced you down a little hard; fingers still stroking at you in time with his thrusts. His groans were melodic as he pulled you further and further to the edge.

The tears were spilling down your cheeks and the pressure built in your core, walls tight around his cock that you were surprised that he could even move anymore with how hard you were gripping him. The friction coupled with his fingers on your clit forced the familiar prick to start to build, the feeling of needing to let go insane.

“I—” You moaned loudly, your face starting to screw up, his hips forcing every little noise out as he grunted with effort.

Aemond was just as lost in it as you were, but you could tell he wasn’t as close to letting go as you, his grunts a bit too strained with effort as he tightened his hold on your hips.

“Come on bun,” He breathed out, the air forced from his chest, “Let go for me, I know you want to…”

Everything felt like a melting pot of pleasure and pain, your soft sobs and moans blending together to create something truly pathetic as your chin angled down with effort. If Aemond had neighbours that could hear, you were sure they’d think you were being murdered in here but you just didn’t care anymore, the feeling in your stomach like a balloon that kept expanding till the rubber exploded.

There was a subtle haziness to your vision that was flooding in, the feeling of sweat on your back, and the hairs around your temple starting to stick with effort. Every single nerve in your body felt like someone was grazing over it with a lighter, a subtle shiver building up your spine as you felt your eyes start to slip shut; walls as tight as they could be.

And then there was only ringing, your own ears not picking up the moan that ripped out your throat and into the room as you finally let go. Your vision went white for a few seconds as you felt the familiar gush from your opening and soak Aemond’s length, the slick noises adding to the slapping of skin. Your flesh pimpled with a shiver, from your legs to your nipples perking up as you cried on his length.

Aemond could only watch with a shit-eating grin as you let go of him, his hips moving you through your pleasure as tears leaked down your cheeks.

“Fuck, look at you…” His voice was hoarse with effort, the sound scratching at your brain as the feelings started to come back, “Pretty fucking thing…”

The noises out your mouth turned whiny as he pushed you into overstimulation, the burning in your core too much – he could sense your pain however as he started to slow down, easing you lighter and lighter over his till he stopped. Your chest heaving with effort as you sniffled and cried, arms out and braced in his chest as you kept yourself from completely slumping over.

Moments were fruitless to remember, but you could feel one of his arms slip around your back as he moved the two of you with little effort. The feeling of his cold sheets felt like ice kissing fire as he settled you down onto them carefully, his length still buried in your despite it all.

“I’ve got you…” He hummed softly, a juxtaposition from the hammering you just took from him, “You’re okay, bunny, I’ve got you…”

His hands pushed some of your hair back softly as he chuckled fondly, your body practically melting into the sheets as he laid you on your back. One arm holding him up above you as the other lightly touched your skin, trying not to force you into some space you didn’t need to be.

“You with me?” He asked warmly, this thumb brushing some of the tears off your cheek.

It felt like a herculean effort to open your eyes, the lids swimming with tears as they blurrily opened with a pathetic sniffle and nod.

“There she is…” He chuckled faintly, looking over your face for any signs of distress.

His hair was a curtain over your face as you looked up at him, his image unphased while you melted like ice on a hot day into his sheets. His cock was still very much buried in you, the feeling of fullness causing a twitch of your hips that wasn’t seeking pleasure.

He hadn’t cum and the thought had your eyebrows pulling together.

Sensing your thoughts, he hums softly, head dipping to peck your lips with some affection before mumbling against them.

“Bunny…” You could feel the smirk twitching at his mouth, begging to come out, “You know I’m not done with you yet.”

You let out a soft cry at that, your little sniffle causing a smile on his face as he kissed over your chin, “You know your word, bunny…”

Your body was spent, every nerve you had left was frayed away like a tired electric cable left to rust, sweat and slickness covered your body and overall, you felt ready to wither away.

But fuck, you could not bring yourself to say the word.

Whether you were a glutton for punishment now, all you could do was blink up at him as he faux-fawned over you like a child again.

“But she won’t use it though, will she?” He grinned with teeth, looking down at you with a look that told you he was more than ready to eat you up again, “Such a pathetically needy little thing.”

Your body was very much just his vessel to move around now as he sat back on his knees; cock slipping out of you with a strangled moan from you. Both of his hands slid down your sides, looking down at you with an amused look before he pats your hip.

“Turn over,” He hummed while leaving no room for argument.

You whined softly as you were rolled onto your stomach, a tender feeling flooding your body as you felt his hands caress your backside. Aemond was intent on leaving nothing of you, his hands tugging your hips up with little effort as you moved onto your knees and elbows. Your body blooming like a flower as your limbs shakily held yourself up.

“I’ll take care of you, baby…” He snickered softly, the bed dipping as he stood on his knees behind you, hands firmly on your hips as he pulled you towards him.

“M’tired…” You sniffled softly, face partly in the sheets to muffle the noise.

You couldn’t see him but you could imagine his head tilting in amusement, “You know what to say if you want me to stop, baby…”

But you just couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, your body trembling slightly as he pulled you flush against him; his tip nudging your puffy folds with a soft hum. He knew you weren’t going to say it, the hunger in you winning out to see what another peak would do to you, your eyes fluttering at the thought. There was a brief pause before he was guiding himself back into you with a low moan, the breath knocking out of you as your walls instantly wrapped around him tight to the intrusion again.

He released a breathy moan as his hands tightened on your hips, his own body most likely wound up like a coil from the way he kept himself from letting go before. Aemond gave you a few seconds to adjust again before he was gripping your hips and forcing you back onto him; soft ‘uh’ noises slipping out as he started to rock you into him.

This was the furthest you’d been pushed before but you loved it as he built up a steady rhythm, his breathing starting to pick up and his hand flexing on your hips. Not being able to see him left you with a sense of want, but having him behind you like this had his cock reaching further into you, and that’s all that mattered right now. His hips slapped off your behind with steady thuds as you moaned and whined on his length.

“Fuck.” He gritted slightly, his hips forcing just a bit harder as you gripped onto him like you were trying to suck him in, “Where have you been all my life?”

The compliment was enough to draw a tired giggle out of your mouth as your elbows dug into the bed with effort, your head picking up slightly to try and look back at him. From what you could see, his head was tossed back slightly, his hair brushing his back as he used you again like a little toy just for him. It was hot, and it was letting you muster enough strength to try and work yourself back onto him.

He looked down as you did, a smug little smirk on his lips as he watched you, his hand no doubt leaving marks on your flesh with how tightly he was holding you.

“Oh, she’s found life, has she?” He goaded you, “I was going lightly on you this time for your benefit, baby, but if you’re feeling so energetic.”

Your lips parted as you watched him, a shocked breath tumbling out as he goaded you. A dirty smirk on his face, as one of his hands let go to tangle in your hair, forcing your face forward.

Your eyes widened slightly as they met the lens, in your fog of pleasure you’d forgotten it was there. “Smile for the camera, baby” He taunted.

Something demonic made him, that’s where your mind went before he just let himself go on you. His hands moved back to your hips to fuck you like he wanted; hips slamming into yours with such a force you felt every single noise you could make leave you, leaving your mouth open to wheeze and mewl. Aemond was the loudest he’d been all night, grunts and moans filling the spaces in between the slapping of hips and the slick dribbling down your legs, his voice carrying as he did all the work for you.

You wanted to look at him so bad, but all you could do was blink at the camera as tears of pleasure built in your eyes again. Fingers grasping at the bedding while he worked on rocking every bit of sense you had left out of you. This descent up the peak felt different from the last, your body shaking with something cold and so deliciously good that you wondered why you’d never found someone willing to use you like this before.

He was something else entirely, something that you honestly never wanted to let go of as he fucked you.  If this was only going to be a one-night stand, then god you hoped he imprinted his length into you forever.

He’d mostly stopped talking to you, clearly working on finding his pleasure and your own again, his hips doing the work of a god. His grunt and moans were just music to your ears as your head dropping down to the bed, your sweaty forehead pressed into his sheets as your back arched further into the feeling, seeking everything you could from him as he chuckled through the haze.

“You’re something else,” He murmured between moans, clearly happy with how you were taking it like a champ.

Thrusting alone wasn’t going to cut it, despite how tight your body was wound, and the noises you were letting out probably spoke volumes to that. His lips shushed you slightly with a grunt.

“I know, baby…” He said between his clenched jaw, his hand slipping over your hip and under.

The demon he was, didn’t just go for your clit, however, his hand pressed softly on your lower stomach as you sang for him instantly. A sob left you as you felt yourself get impossibly tighter for a second, the push causing his cock to hit something deep in you that had your knees shaking. He wasn’t about to keep you on edge, his hand sliding down to find your clit as his wrist kept pressed on your lower stomach.

“Aemond…” You moaned a deranged sound from the back of your throat he grunted in response. “Fuck, Aemond please.”

“Just a bit longer, bunny.” He grunted with effort, your eyes widening in the sheets as something built hotter and hotter in you.

The feeling was like a hot iron being struck over and over with each rock of his hips, his fingers coaxing everything out of you. It was a scary feeling to be pushed so far, and you weren’t sure if you could even find that end again, no matter how determined a lover he was.

Aemond wasn’t going to stop until you both tumbled over the edge this time, his grunt building into something harsh as he fucked into you harder and harder; his movements needy as you felt right now. Your breathing was all over the place, torn between gasps and choked noises as you fought your brain to get to the end, your tongue peeking out your mouth slightly in desperation.

If you never slept with someone else again after this, you were so glad that Aemond was the one to muddle your mind into something twisted. The familiar haze of lust clouded your brain again as your knuckles went white on the sheets.

All you could get out was squeaks at this point, your head pressing further and further into the bed as you arched more, thighs slapping with his as he took you to the last lap.

“Bunny.” He grunted, something feral in his tone as he spoke to you, “Are you nearly there, baby?”

The only you could give him was a sob of what sounded like a ‘yes’, there was truly nothing left of you.

The hot iron before was melting in the heat, dripping its molten ooze into your body and fogging your brain. It was impossible to tell who came first, but as you felt his hips drive into one last harsh time with a moan so loud that you’re pretty sure it would be ingrained into your mind forever. You completely let go. Your mind blacked out in a haze of feral lust as the feeling of his spend filled you completely.

You weren’t sure if it was moments or hours anymore, and you’re sure if you could see yourself, you’d be embarrassed by whatever act you were doing. But none of it was a thought in your brain anymore, emptied-headed and fucked. That’s what you were, your brain cutting out as you felt your body slump out of his hold and onto the sheets one last time.

What happened after that exact point, you weren’t really sure, but in the moments after the fall, you felt a soothing hand on your stomach. Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion, barely fluttering open as you adjusted to every sound and feeling around you. There was a warmth between your thighs dribbling out and a hand on your stomach that wasn’t touching with intent, it was stroking so softly like he was trying to coax you back to him. A faint mumbling filled your ears as he soothed you in whatever way he could.

“You’re okay, baby…” He hummed softly, the two of you now lying on the bed, his body leaning on his side as he looked over you. “Did so good for me…”

It was lazy the way your head turned, eyes swimming with tiredness, to look at him.

All Aemond could do was smile lazily back, his own face the most tender it had been all night, “Look who’s awake.”

Your lips parted dryly before they closed again, no energy left to even speak.

“You okay, bunny?” He hummed softly, dipping his head slightly to look at you, eyes warm with care, “You blacked out for a second.”

“I’m okay…” You whispered softly, the flush on your face warm and your body sunk into his bed.

“Good…” He purred, his hand moving off your stomach to reach beyond you.

You had assumed he was turning the camera off, but you were surprised when his hand appeared with a glass; water swishing in the glass as he moved it to you with a soft sigh.

“Drink, baby,” He tutted softly, helping you up with him as he sat up slightly, pressing the glass to your mouth as your hand shakily moved to hold it with him.

God, it really was like finding an oasis in the desert as the cold liquid slipped down your tender throat. Your body leaned partly on his chest as you gulped the water down greedily, his free arm wrapping around you to brush your side softly.

“There you go…” He sighed warmly, making sure you didn’t slip into any uncomfortable place, his lips by your ear as he spoke softly to you, “You were so good for me, baby…”

After a few moments, he placed the glass on the bedside table before pulling you closer to him, his warmth seeping into your skin like a comforting embrace. Aemond’s fingers continued their slow, absentminded tracing along your arm, his touch featherlight, grounding you back into reality.

Your body still tingled from the intensity of the night, exhaustion weighing down your limbs like a heavy velvet blanket. You let out a breath, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the heady scent of your session that clung to him. Giving yourself a few moments of reprieve from the absolute storm that was him.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pressed a kiss against your temple. “That tired, hm?”

You hummed in response, words too much effort when all you wanted was to stay wrapped up in him, in this moment. His arm tightened around you, his palm smoothing slow, lazy circles along your back as he held you close. Neither of you spoke, only the sound of your steady breaths filling the dimly lit room.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in his arms, his touch keeping you tethered to reality. But eventually, Aemond let out a soft sigh, pressing a kiss to your hair before carefully slipping from you. The loss of his warmth made you stir slightly, your fingers weakly grasping for him, but he only shushed you gently.

“Just getting you a shirt, bunny,” he murmured, brushing a hand over your cheek before stepping away.

You barely cracked your eyes open as you watched him move, his bare back to you as he rummaged through his drawers. The exhaustion in your limbs made it impossible to do anything but wait, sinking further into the bed as exhaustion tugged at your edges.

Then he was back, helping you up slightly before draping a soft, worn shirt over your head, guiding your arms through it, his touch tender. Once you were settled, he laid you back in the covers again.

“Feeling better?” His tone was softer than usual, but there was something beneath it, something careful, almost hesitant.

You blinked up at him, drowsy, but nodded. “Yeah…”

Aemond exhaled through his nose, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your side. He was drawing shapes you couldn’t understand, his eyes looking over you in his bed, his body still bare to you.

It was almost reverent like the two of you didn’t just fuck like animals for god knows how long, but it was nice, comforting even. Your brain finally settled down as you moaned softly, settling into bed like you never wanted to leave, his face amused as he watched you.

“Can I ask you something, bunny?” He murmured softly breaking the silence, his hand settling on your hip possessively, his eye slightly wicked with intent.

“Hmm…” You tiredly moaned in response, eyes half-lidded and face in his pillow as you tried to listen to him.

He smirked softly, and then, after a beat.

“Come on tour with me.”

While I do not own the characters, I retain full copyright over this written work. Under no circumstances may this content be translated, copied, reposted, or used for AI training or any other purpose without my explicit permission.

[kezdispenser]

Hi, Ik your pretty busy but could you do sensei Wolf x reader where they’re together and reader doesn’t fight anymore but wolf asks reader to sensei with him at the sekai taikai and he gets turned on seeing her in a Gi again and it turns into a smut and he asks reader to be his partner for life I’m living for wolf having a soft spot for reader

His Eyes Only | Sensei Wolf x Fem!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

Summary: The request

A/N: I realize I don't add a lot of smut into my work but i'm trying my best, I'll make a post on what all I can write about, I'm so open to smut requests.

You never expected to step back into this world. Fighting, competing, teaching—it had all been a part of your life once, but you had let it go. And Wolf had let you, even if you knew it killed him.

Still, you visited him at the dojo. You sat on the sidelines, watched him push his students to the brink, barked out the occasional correction when one of them was slacking. But that was it. Just a visitor.

Until today.

Wolf leaned against his desk in the private office, arms crossed, watching you with that sharp, assessing look he reserved for his fighters.

"I need you," he said, voice low, deliberate. "For the Sekai Taikai."

You exhaled. "Wolf—"

"I know," he cut you off. "I know you’re done. But this isn’t just any tournament. You know what’s at stake."

You did. This wasn’t just about winning—it was about proving that the Iron Dragons still ruled the world stage. That Wolf still ruled it. And if there was one thing you knew about the man standing in front of you, it was that he didn’t handle failure well.

"You’re the only one I trust," he admitted, the rare vulnerability in his voice making your chest tighten. "Just help me through this."

That was how you ended up here, standing in front of the mirror in his office, adjusting the sleeves of the grey Iron Dragons gi.

The second you tied the belt, you heard it—low and deep, like a man barely holding it together.

Wolf groaned.

You glanced at him through the mirror, catching the way his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists like he was fighting the urge to touch you.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "I forgot how good that looks on you."

You smirked, turning to face him fully. "That why you wanted me here? Just an excuse to see me in this again?"

His eyes darkened, and in two strides, he was in front of you, hands gripping your waist. "That’s a bonus," he murmured, voice rough. "But now I’ve got a different problem."

Your breath hitched as his fingers flexed against your hips, his gaze roaming over you like he was memorizing every inch.

"And what’s that?" you teased.

Wolf leaned in, his lips ghosting over your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

"Now I don’t want anyone else seeing you in this but me."

His mouth found yours, and you could already taste the need on his lips. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, and the intensity of that hunger sent a rush of heat between your thighs.

Wolf’s hands slid under the gi top, up your bare back, and then under your arms to grip your breasts, fingers finding and teasing your nipples until you moaned against him.

He swallowed the sound with another deep kiss, and your hands fumbled for his belt, popping the button free. When you finally got his pants open, his cock sprang out, thick and hard, and Wolf cursed again, the sound turning you on even more.

He picked you up and sat you down on his desk, pushing you legs apart and kneeling in front of you. You reached out to tangle your fingers in his hair, but he shook his head, eyes burning as he ran his gaze over you again.

"Not yet."

He lifted your gi pants and shoved them down, leaving them at your ankles, then leaned in and dragged his tongue up your inner thigh. Your legs clenched around his head at the sensation, and he made a pleased sound deep in his throat.

"Perfect," he murmured. "Just what I needed."

Then his mouth found you, and all your thoughts went blank.

You were used to him teasing you mercilessly with his tongue and teeth, but he was hungry, too hungry to hold back now. He ate you out with all the pent-up need he’d been holding in, and you let out one moan after another, your head falling back as your body shook and trembled with pleasure.

"Wolf," you gasped, your hands pulling at his hair now, the need to come too much to bear. "I’m so close—"

He moaned against you and you cried out, your back arching as he pushed you over the edge. Your legs clutched around him like a vice, holding him in place as your orgasm tore through you.

Wolf didn’t stop until you were shivering and limp, your legs loose around his shoulders.

You weren’t even sure when he got up, when he pulled off the rest of your gi and your sports bra. You didn't know how or when but in a single move you were off the desk "on your knees" you heard him say in a low growl.

You looked up and saw Wolf standing in front of you now, his pants still open, his hard cock right in front of your face.

You happily obliged and got on your knees, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, his hand threading through your hair.

You didn’t respond, too busy sliding your mouth up and down his shaft. He wasn’t the only one hungry for this.

He kept a hand in your hair, guiding you, not pulling on it, but still firm enough that he could control your movements.

It didn’t take long before you felt him swell and stiffen in your mouth.

You pulled back as quickly lifted you up to his desk, bending you over, both of you now facing the only mirror in his office

. Your eyes caught on him, seeing the reflection of his body and your own, naked and eager.

"Watch us," he commanded as he positioned himself behind you, his hand curling around the nape of your neck.

You nodded and kept your gaze on the mirror, watching as his cock found its way to your wet pussy.

His hand tightened on your neck as he pushed inside of you, and you cried out at the intensity.

Wolf groaned. "Fuck, baby."

He started moving, thrusting into you, and you watched his reflection fuck you hard, fast, rough. You could see your tits bouncing in the mirror, and you felt the heat building between your legs.

He pulled your hair as he fucked you harder and faster.

"Tell me when you’re gonna cum," he gritted, his voice thick.

The need inside of you was already building, your muscles clenching around him as he hit that spot inside of you over and over.

Wolf reached his hand between your legs and rubbed your clit. He pressed his palm flat against your pussy and slid it up to the bottom of your belly, pressing lightly.

You screamed and bucked back against him as an orgasm tore through you, your eyes never leaving the mirror.

He held you against him as the spasms rocked your body, his cock still pumping in and out of you, then he pressed his fingers against that spot again, and you came all over again, crying out his name.

This time, he couldn’t hold back. His thrusts became more frantic, his hands holding your hips hard as he fucked you through another orgasm.

When you felt his cock jerk and swell inside of you, you knew he was close. His fingers curled tighter on your hips, pulling you against him on his final thrust, and with a strangled groan, he spilled inside of you.

You watched as he came in the mirror, your gaze locked on the reflection of Wolf losing himself in you, his mouth open and gasping for air.

You stayed there like that for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breath as he leaned over, his chest pressing against your back. Then he pulled out of you and turned you around.

Wolf exhaled, his forehead resting against yours as the last waves of pleasure faded into something softer. His grip on you eased, no longer possessive—just grounding. Like he wasn’t ready to let go yet.

"You good?" he murmured, his voice still rough but laced with something gentler.

You nodded, still catching your breath. "Yeah. You?"

He huffed a quiet laugh, brushing his lips against your temple before finally stepping back. "Come on."

Before you could ask where, he was already scooping you up, ignoring your weak protest as he carried you toward the small bathroom connected to his office.

"You really don’t have to—"

"Shut up," he muttered, kicking the door open. "You barely got your legs under you."

You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat to it. He set you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a towel and wetting it under warm water. His movements were steady, practiced, but there was a tenderness in the way he cleaned you up—tracing over every mark he’d left like he was committing them to memory.

"You always act all tough," you teased, watching him work, "but deep down, you’re just a big softie."

Wolf shot you a look, one brow raised. "Say that again and see what happens."

You grinned, swinging your legs playfully. "Softie."

He tossed the towel at you.

You caught it, laughing. "Rude."

Wolf just shook his head, grabbing one of his spare shirts from a cabinet and tugging it over your head before you could argue. It smelled like him—clean sweat, cedar, and something distinctly Wolf.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, then leaned against the counter beside you, arms crossed. "You really gonna do this?" he asked, quieter now. "Sensei with me?"

You looked up at him, seeing something unspoken in his expression. This wasn’t just about the tournament. It was about trust. About standing beside him, in every way.

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. "Yeah," you said softly. "I’m with you, Wolf. Always."

For a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Then, with a smirk that didn’t quite hide the warmth in his eyes, he muttered, "Damn right you are."

And just like that, he pulled you into his chest, holding you like he never planned on letting go.

The Sekai Taikai cocktail mixer was in an hour, and you were still in Wolf’s office, lounging on the couch in his oversized shirt while he finished getting dressed. He looked damn good—black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, fitted slacks that made it criminal for him to leave the room without you jumping him again.

"You’re staring," he muttered, smirking as he adjusted his watch.

"You’re hot," you replied without shame, stretching like a satisfied cat.

Wolf chuckled, shaking his head before crossing the room, stopping in front of you. "Come here," he said, holding out his hand.

You took it, letting him pull you to your feet. His hands settled on your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of his shirt that was still hanging loose on you. His expression shifted—more serious now, like he was turning something over in his head.

"What?" you asked, tilting your head.

Wolf exhaled through his nose, then smirked like he was amused with himself. "I was gonna wait until after the tournament, but…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box.

Your breath caught.

"Wolf—"

"I’m not good with words," he interrupted, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist. "Never have been. But you? You’re the only thing in my life that’s ever made sense. And I know I don’t deserve you, but I don’t give a shit."

Your eyes burned, heart hammering as he opened the box to reveal a sleek, silver ring—simple, but right.

"Marry me," he said, no hesitation, no nerves. Just certainty. Just him.

You blinked. Then blinked again. Then looked down at yourself—the oversized shirt of his you’d thrown on, your bare legs, your hair still messy from what you’d just done on his damn desk.

“Wolf,” you choked out, holding up your hands. “Look at me. I look homeless right now, and you��re proposing??”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “And?”

“And?! People usually propose when their girl is, I don’t know, in a nice dress, with her nails done, maybe not looking like she just got manhandled six ways from sunday in her fiancé’s office.”

His smirk deepened. “Exactly. You’re mine like this. No fancy shit, no audience—just us. And I’d still marry you if you were wearing a trash bag.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. Leave it to him to make something so ridiculous sound so perfect.

Then you sighed dramatically. “Fine, but when people ask how you proposed, I’m telling them you did it while I looked like a gremlin.”

Wolf chuckled, pulling you close. “Tell them whatever you want.” He kissed your knuckles before slipping the ring onto your finger. “Long as they know you said yes.”

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

A/N: While writing this i was trying to find a better word than 'railed' and my brain instantly thought of 'manhandled six ways from sunday' and my mouth moved faster than my brain and I went "my favorite way" ??????????????

[ashwhowrites]

SO excited a fave is back!!!!

i was wondering if we could have some fwb angst to fluff with eddie? like eddie has been super vague about his feelings for r and shes super sad abt it but then he invites her over for valentines day and they have a cute date with a cute confession?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you so much for requesting❤️

Valentine's Day

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, one night, and mean nothing. She and Eddie were only meant to cross the lines as best friends one time.

Only

One

Time

"Can I ask you something?" Y/N asked, fiddling with her fingers nervously. A few beers scattered on the floor, giving her the courage to ask.

Eddie nodded as he inhaled his cigarette, keeping his eyes on her. She sat across from him on his bed, the two were just spending a typical Friday night together. Something they always did.

"Have you ever had sex?"

Eddie coughed as he exhaled, not expecting his girl best friend to ask him something so personal. He blushed as he ashed out his cigarette.

"Um no," he mumbled embarrassed, "have you?"

Y/N was a little surprised he was still a virgin, but in a way, it comforted her. She felt embarrassed as she shook her head no, taking a swig of her drink as her throat got dry.

"Really? I'm surprised," Eddie mumbled, leaning over to grab her beer as he took a swig.

"What? Why?" She asked, her head turned to the side and Eddie thought about how cute she was.

He shrugged, passing her the beer. "I just find it hard to believe, that's all."

"Do you think I'm a slut or something?" She questioned a little hurt by his response.

He panicked, eyes wide as he waved his hands. "Of course not! It's just you are... attractive." He stumbled out, he wasn't sure if it was the embarrassment or the beer that made his body hot.

"Oh," she whispered, slightly smiling to herself. "I would say the same about you," Eddie swallowed harshly as she looked at him with batted eyelashes.

"You think I'm attractive?" Eddie chuckled

"Don't laugh!" She said as she smacked his arm. "You're handsome and I think everyone can see that."

"Handsome? What am I four? I wanna be smoking hot to the babes," Eddie smirked, placing his hands behind his head. Y/N stopped herself from staring at the way his arms bulged out in the new position.

She was pretty damn sure from this point the alcohol did all the talking. And that's where it got complicated.

"You are," she confessed, "trust me, we all think it."

Eddie had a big grin on his face as he sat up, leaning over so his face was closer to hers. "You all think I'm smoking hot? Including you?"

She didn't know but her words were making his heart race. He didn't care if he was hot to other girls, he wanted to be hot to her.

"Yes," she said as she shyly looked away but Eddie didn't let that happen. His finger rested under her chin as he pushed her head up.

"I think you're smoking hot too, baby," he whispered. She nibbled on her lip as she looked into his dark and intense brown eyes. Her stomach did flips when his eyes flashed down at her lips. "Why did you ask about sex?"

"I don't want to be a virgin anymore," she whispered honestly. The alcohol gave her no shame or boundaries. "And I'm too scared to do it with a random guy."

Eddie couldn't help but feel himself getting turned on by the idea. A teasing glint in his eyes made her nervous. He leaned in, his nose nudging hers as his finger stayed on her chin. She was so close to him that she could taste the beer and cigarette in his breath.

"Are you saying you want me to fuck you?"

She mindlessly whined, her body betraying her as she felt something between her thighs. She closed her eyes as she pictured it. His warm body was on top of hers as he made her feel things she'd never felt.

"Yes," she said with her eyes closed. Too scared to face the reality.

"Ask nicely," she could hear the teasing in his voice. Eddie always loved to pick on people and tease them to get them riled up. And she wasn't shocked he did the same thing in the bedroom.

She opened her eyes, and the nervousness she felt washed away as she remembered it was Eddie in front of her. No amount of his teasing was serious. He'd be gentle and he'd do anything she wanted.

"Will you please-" she couldn't even finish before he pushed her body against the mattress, and his lips landed on hers.

~

The morning after was so awkward and they didn't know how to act. It was silent the whole car ride to her house. It took days before either of them got the courage to talk. They realized they might have ruined their friendship for one night.

But the problem wasn't that the sex was bad that it made it impossible to see each other. It was that the sex was so damn good that they craved it.

Instead of talking it out and trying to resolve it, they ended up back up in bed together. Their relationship wasn't awkward in the sheets, her under him and calling out his name.

So that's how a friend with benefits came to be. It's been a hot few months and neither wanted it to end. But Y/N couldn't help but realize she was falling for him. She wished she could keep it as only sex but she wanted to kiss him whenever she wanted. She wanted his hand in hers at all times. She wanted to be claimed and to claim him.

But Eddie was very hard to read. He was so vague with his feelings unless it was during sex. She did try to talk about it but he got this uncomfortable look on his face and changed the subject. Unfortunately, she believed that was him telling her nothing more would happen.

Eddie noticed she was different during their pillow talk. Her eyes didn't hold the same passion, almost like her eyes got sad. She didn't look at him during sex much anymore, keeping her eyes closed as he tried to touch her back to life.

He wasn't sure what was going on but he was scared to ask. He didn't want to lose her like he almost did last time. So he figured it was best to do what they felt comfortable doing.

He wasn't aware that his cold feet were making Y/N want to change her mind.

~~~

Y/N pulled up to Eddie's trailer, a question on her mind and she was ready to demand an answer. She let herself in, heading to his bedroom.

The door was open as she looked in. He was scribbling in his notebook, looking up as he heard footsteps.

"Hey baby, what are you doing here?" He smiled

She ignored how beautiful he looked with his hair tied up. She sighed and moved to sit across from him, taking the small notebook out of his hands so she had all his attention. He watched silently, letting her do so.

"I want to talk about us," she said

"What about us?"

"What do you think we're doing?"

Eddie was confused, treading lightly. "Friends who enjoy sex together?"

"Is it just sex?" She asked. Her soft eyes stared into his as he fumbled for an answer. He wasn't sure what the right answer was.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "we haven't discussed how this works."

"Because you refuse, Eddie!"

"I just don't think we need to have a conversation about it! We like what's going on so what needs to change."

Y/N tried to hide her disappointment. He was fine with what they were and that's all she needed to know.

"You're right," she faked a smile.

Eddie felt relieved as she seemed to be fine. "Yeah? We're good?"

"Yes," she lied, leaning in to press her lips against his.

~

Eddie wasn't interested in becoming her boyfriend so she figured to look elsewhere. In the meantime, she could enjoy sweaty sex with Eddie, and find a rebound to fix her heart.

Luckily for her, a guy in one of her classes has been waiting for her to say yes to a date. Finally, she did.

"So how come this place?" Zack asked as they walked into the Hideout.

Y/N felt guilty for using the poor guy, but she wanted to punish Eddie for not wanting her. She wanted him to feel jealous and find out he did want her. Zack was a pawn and it was wrong, but she was out of ideas.

"One of my favorite places to hang out. Good music, drink and food," she explained. The two sat at a small booth after they ordered their drinks at the bar.

~

"No way, dude. Not interested," Eddie laughed as he and Gareth walked into the Hideout.

"Why? You already said that you and Y/N are still only sex," Gareth explained.

"Doesn't mean I want to get involved with another girl and create a mess," Eddie said heading to the bar. He sat on the stool and ordered a beer as Gareth sat next to him.

"Then what the hell are you doing? Fucking your best friend but won't date her. But also don't want to get involved with another girl."

"Why does sex immediately mean a relationship? I love Y/N but I don't know if I could be a good boyfriend. But what I am is a good friend and that's why I'm not going to sleep with her and then randomly go on a date with a girl. She'd be crushed," Eddie explained as he took a swig of his beer.

"Would you be crushed if she did it to you?" Gareth asked, his eyes looking past Eddie. Confused, Eddie turned around and felt his stomach drop.

"Is that Y/N?" Eddie asked, staring ahead. Y/N was sitting very close to a random guy, his arm thrown over her shoulder. "She's on a date." Eddie gulped.

"See a problem with it?" Gareth asked. It was clear Eddie wanted to be with her and Gareth was pretty sure Eddie wouldn't do it on his own without a push.

"A little," Eddie growled. Anger and jealousy filled his body as the boy scooted closer, his face getting close to hers. Before the boy could press his lips against hers, Eddie threw him out of the booth.

"Dude, what the hell?" Zack said as he stood up. Y/N looked at Eddie shocked, quickly getting out of the booth as she stood between the boys.

"Eddie, what is wrong with you!"

"Wrong with me? You were in my bed last night and now you're on a date with this loser?" Eddie growled as he puffed out his chest. His anger-filled eyes locked on the man behind her.

Y/N felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Calm down and let's go talk."

Eddie followed her outside but nothing calmed the jealousy in his body. The door closed, and she went to speak, but Eddie didn't give her a chance. His tongue was in her mouth in seconds, she gasped as she melted into his touch.

She moaned into his mouth as he gripped her ass and took control of the kiss. Her head was spinning as her back found the brick wall of the bar, his body pressed against hers.

Even though she got lost in him, she gained her composure and shoved him off. "I said talk, Munson."

"I don't want to talk," he said against her lips, going to kiss her again but she shoved him off again.

"You never want to talk! It's only physical with you. I'm fucking done," she spat. She turned to go back to the bar but Eddie grabbed her arm.

"Done? Why are you mad at me? You're the one on a date," Eddie argued.

"Yes, I'm done. And I'm mad because I've given you so many chances to make this more. And you never once seemed interested. Now that someone else is interested you want to get jealous? Screw you." She fought. He didn't know this was what she wanted. She wanted a fight; she wanted him to fight for her, run after her, and beg for her.

"Fine," he said with a straight face. "You want whoever that dude is, go for it. But when you realize no one will touch you the way I do, don't bother calling."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Eddie. You only want sex, I can find that in anyone. But you can't find love in anyone. I'm not settling anymore."

Eddie felt the blow to his chest. Hurt that what they had was her settling. And he hated the idea of her finding sex with anyone. He pushed down his jealousy, prepared to say everything she needed to hear to say.

"I can give you love. And I'll prove it to you. But please don't leave with him," he begged. He moved closer, watching to see if she moved. When she didn't, he pressed his forehead against hers. His deep eyes bored into hers.

"One chance, Eddie. That's all I'm giving you," she sighed.

~

She did as he asked and went home alone. Her brain was exhausted from his back and forth she was fine to be alone. She wasn't sure if Eddie could give her the love she needed, but giving it a shot was worth it.

The next day she received a call from him asking her to stop by his trailer for dinner. She was nervous to see how it would go. They never were able to talk about whatever they had going on, and now she was going to find out the truth. It was Valentine's Day and she couldn't lie that she was thankful he didn't have another girl to spend the holiday with.

Could Eddie love her the way she wanted?

She took a deep breath as she walked into the trailer. She froze as the trailer was lit up in ways it never was before. Fairy lights along the walls and pink and red decorations hung up. Flower petals scattered along the floor.

"Eddie?" She called out moving into the trailer but he was nowhere to be seen. After calling his name, he came out of his bedroom, holding a single rose as he was dressed in dark jeans and a white button up.

She gulped as she took him in. He was insanely gorgeous and her stomach fluttered.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said softly as he passed her the rose. She took the rose and smiled. He was close enough that she could smell his delicious cologne, see the sparkles in his eyes, and feel his shaky breath touch her face.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her nerves were building as the room felt thick. "What's all this?"

"You said I have one shot, and I'm going to put everything I got into this one chance," Eddie said. He gently grabbed her hand and walked her over to the couch. Snacks on the table, all her favorites.

"Eddie you don't have to do all of this. I just want to talk," she explained, "but this is all very beautiful."

"And I'm ready to talk and I'm going to be honest about everything. " His breath was shaky as he sighed. He kept his hand laced with hers. "After we had sex for the first time, it was awkward and we almost didn't know how to fix it."

She nodded along, that was true. She was terrified they messed everything up.

"But when we found ourselves in bed again, it was fixed. I wanted us to focus on the part we didn't struggle with. I knew whenever we were intimate that we would be us again. I almost lost you, and I'm terrified if we move forward, get into a relationship, and it falls apart. Then I'm losing you forever. And fuck, I can't lose you." Eddie explained, all his feelings on the table.

She gripped his hand as he seemed to be nervous. "Honestly, that all makes sense. I can understand why you didn't want to change what we knew was working. But Eddie, I fell for you. I didn't think that's what would happen and I was so scared I was going to fuck it up because I realized I love you. If we go down this route of only sex, we are going to lose each other because I'm going to end up heartbroken."

"So you want to be with me?" Eddie questioned

"Do you want to be with me? Could you fall in love with me?" She asked, biting her lip as she nervously waited for him to answer.

"Darling I already did,"

She smiled at his words, feeling the need to scream with excitement. "So ask me."

Eddie unlaced their hands, moving down to one knee as he dug into his pocket. Her eyes widened as she panicked. But felt relief when he pulled out a candy heart necklace.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine and spend our first Valentine's Day together as my girlfriend?"

She smiled as she nodded her head, "I'd love nothing more."

Eddie smiled and tossed the necklace on the table, "Wait I want that!" She fought but Eddie grabbed her legs and yanked her to the edge of the couch.

"Yeah, later; right now, I want to taste my girlfriend and make up for all my stupid mistakes," he smirked as his hands ran up her thighs. She shivered under his touch and leaned down, her lips softly pressing against his.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[marscardigan]

ellie hcs (or a blurb) about a reader who’s on the opposite side of her but agrees to help?? like during seattle and stuff!!

UUUHH I LOVE THIS!! here you go angel! <3 (this is my first request hope i did justice 😭)

backstabber, e.w

tlou masterlist

summary: as isaac dixon’s top recruit, no one anticipated you’d switch to the rival team.

You were never just another soldier in the WLF, you were Isaac’s second-in-command, someone he trusted. If Isaac needed someone to get their hands dirty, you were often the one to do it. It wasn’t that you loved the war. You just understood it.

Isaac allowed Abby Anderson to go after the killer of his father, but only if you went with them. He didn't trust anyone who wasn't you to do that. And then Joel Miller was executed.

You weren’t some naive recruit—you’d seen death, you’d delivered it. But something about Joel’s execution sat wrong in your gut. The way Abby wouldn’t let him go quickly. The way his companion—his brother, you’d later learn—was forced to watch. The way it was personal, not tactical.

It felt less like a military decision and more like a mistake. And you didn’t make mistakes. But you didn’t act, either. Not yet. You kept your mouth shut. Kept your hands steady. Because it wasn’t your fight. If Abby wanted to screw it up, then so fucking be it. You weren't going to clean her mess later.

Weeks after the incident near Jackson, Isaac was mad. An outsider had infiltrated Seattle and was cutting through WLF soldiers with ease. The meetings were tense, discussions filled with strategies on how to eliminate the threat.

Isaac dismissed them as a reckless outsider, dangerous but ultimately doomed. But you? You weren’t so sure. If they killed more than half of your soldiers from the north base, they could easily kill the rest.

You were ordered to hunt her down, and for the first time, you hesitated. You'd always followed Isaac’s orders without question, but as you studied the reports—saw how they targeted only those involved—you realized something: They weren't mindless. They were calculated.

By the time you reached the theater, it was over. Tommy was barely breathing, his blood pooling beneath him. Dina was out cold, her body curled protectively, even unconscious, she was still shielding something. And Ellie… Ellie was broken.

Her face was swollen, bruises layered over bruises, her breaths ragged. Blood soaked her ruined shirt.

She twitched when she heard your boots on the floor, her body tense even in near unconsciousness. And then she forced her head up, blinking sluggishly, and you saw it—the exact moment she recognized you. Hatred. Pure and unfiltered.

She tried to move, to reach for something, anything, but her body gave out before she could. Still, her eyes burned with fury. "The fuck are you doing here?"

You hesitated. Not because you weren’t sure what you were doing, but because you weren’t sure why.

You should’ve finished her off. Should’ve done anything other than what you did next. You pulled a rag from your pocket and pressed it to her wound. "Saving your ass, apparently."

Ellie flinched, hissing through her teeth, but she was too weak to fight you off. Her fingers curled into fists, but she didn’t have the strength to make good on whatever threat was forming in her mind.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled out your supplies and started stitching her up. And for some reason, Ellie let you.

Ellie watched you the entire time, her gaze sharp even through the haze of pain and exhaustion. She didn’t trust you, of course she didn’t, but she wasn’t in a position to push you away.

Your head rambled about everything that had happened for you to end up here, stitching the girl who killed tons of your soldiers, tons of your friends. But you weren’t Abby. You weren’t Isaac. You could be better.

Helping her should have been a one-time thing. You should have walked away once she was stable. Let her figure it out on her own. But you didn’t.

You helped her get Dina and Tommy out of the city, navigating past WLF patrols, using your authority to cover their escape. You didn’t explain why, because you didn’t even knew it.

Ellie didn’t trust you. You could see it in the way she watched you, always waiting for a betrayal. But she still accepted your help, still leaned on you when she needed to.

When it was all over, when the city was behind you and the silence had settled in, Ellie spoke again. "So what now?"

You didn’t have an answer. You weren’t a Firefly. You weren’t a WLF anymore, not really. "Guess I’ll figure it out."

Whatever you chose, Ellie knew, deep inside her chest, that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw each other. Perhaps, once the time passed, Ellie could thank you for everything you did.

[lolitastories]

Friends

Bucky Barnes

We weren’t blind. We weren’t stupid. We weren’t naive, personally I just liked how it feels. How it feels when we are in the same room and I know his eyes are on me. How it feels when any part of his body slightly touches mine, knowing it affects him too. How it feels when he smiles at me. How it feels knowing he does things to make me happy. How it feels when we suddenly lock eyes and the desire burning deep between us makes me struggle to breath.

“You don’t care?” I turn to my side to see Nat now sitting beside me. We were at one of Tony’s many parties and I indulged myself in 3 drinks already so I was pretty mellow. She hinted at what I was staring at before, as she takes a drink.

“I do.” It was plain and simple, of course I fucking do. I care. I care that two pretty girls are talking to him right now. I care that their pesky little fingers grip his arm and at one time caressed his hair. His brown, soft hair. That currently was decorated with a plastic tiara.

“You two are playing with each other's feelings and one is bound to get hurt.” I smile and place my hand over hers.

“You want to know why I am not pulling their eyeballs out of their sockets or cutting their hands off for touching him?” I wasn’t one to give into rage but I couldn’t help but think about it.

“Because you two aren’t officially together,” I roll my eyes with a smile. Yes, we were playing cat and mouse, in a loving way. A way that I don’t have to worry, and it goes both ways.

“First,” I lean forward, grabbing my drink. “I don’t do it because those girls are not at fault. Second, although their attention is on him,” I lift my finger up to her chin and turn her towards Bucky. “His, is on me.” All night, which wasn’t long since I arrived. “He is too nice to brush them off.”

“Nice is not the word I would use,” I held back a laugh seeing her annoyed demeanor. The extent of what she knows about Bucky and I is more than anyone in the world does. But she still thinks Bucky is being stupid and a horrible person for not admitting his feelings toward me. I tried to explain that it was all okay, but as a concerned friend, she still worries. “Don’t you want a stable relationship?” That question freezes me. My head turns over and finds Bucky's eyes. He slightly shakes his head in a “what?” movement and earns a smile from me. Bucky knows me, I trust him to not hurt me.

“No,” Nat was taken back. “I don’t know what you would say is a stable relationship, I don’t think any relationship can be stable.”

“A stable relationship does exist, it's one you and your partner work hard to keep.” I nod agreeing.

“Well,” I could see a slight smile on the corner of his lips. “I don’t doubt that when Bucky and I decide to have a relationship, it will be stable.” My smile doesn’t fade. My eyes don’t move, it stays glued to the man on the other side of the room.

“Have you two fucked yet?” Shit. I turn over with widened eyes. Where did that come from? “Because if you two haven’t, you are going to have a hell of a night when you do” We share a look and as I let out a laugh she follows too.

“You and your mood change,”

“I am your friend, I get to be curious.” I nod knowing she was right.

“Well that part is private until you start telling me about you and Bruce,” Her mouth falls open. “You can’t ask about who I have slept with until you give me details of your own love life”

“I-”

“Nuh-uh” I smile. “You have not let anything slip and you expect me to tell you who I have or haven’t slept with,” Her cheeks were burning red.

“Bruce and I are in a relationship,” She tries to make her point. “You are single and-and 

That means you have a spicy love life so, yeah I want to know who you have slept with” I started laughing at her nonsense but soon my laugh was cut short.

“You got a boyfriend we don’t know about?” My heart starts to feel giddy. My hands are unable to move as it begins to hold my glass tighter. The easy and calm demeanor radiates from his body as he stands to the side but still behind me. One arm draped behind my chair as he leans forward to be leveled with my ear.

“Not officially,” My eyes narrow at Nat’s words, begging her to not continue. “But on what she has been telling me about him,” She was daring me with her eyes. “Chase seems like a charming guy.” She is dead. That devil grin, she replaces it soon with a smile. She gets up grabbing her drink and excusing herself. I almost forgot about Bucky as I begin to think of a revenge plan for Nat until I feel his warm breath on my neck.

“Chase?” He groans. His nose traveled teasingly along my neck and up to my jaw. My head automatically leans against his touch. “Doll?”

“Uh-huh?” I was already lost. I want him to give me more than just hoovering. I don’t care if it was in the middle of the party while everybody watched.

“Do I have to worry about this Chase guy?” I instantly shake my head. I smile feeling his hand snake over the curve of my exposed thigh. His big, rough, hand gently molding around me. This was new, and I wasn’t complaining. My shoulder leans over for support on his chest. “No?” Once again I shake my head in an instant. His lower hand gives my thigh a squeeze and as if it was a command, a moan slips out my lips. “Didn’t think so.” oh he is such a dick. Most of the time he was sweet, but this side? I loved this side of him too.

“Bucky?” I whined feeling his hand disappear. My eyes were shut and It opened to find him and he was still there, closer than ever. His missing hand found a place around my neck, forcing me to look up.

“It's fun to play this game with you,” My lips slightly open. His warm breath hovering over me as he speaks. The music was background noise to his voice. The people, long forgotten. “But I hate not being able to call you mine,” He took the air out of my lungs.

“Can you wait a little longer?” It was a plea, his eyes softened.

“Of course, Doll. I would wait eternity for you.”

A/N: I don't know what I wrote but I hope you like it.

There is going to be other parts were like this. They are friends, friends who flirt, from a time that they could handle it until they couldn't, they will eventually figure out that it's better to give it (it will be more fun).

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TGR CHAPTER 19 THOUGHTS

(includes spoilers)

- “Kevin gamely did his best to keep Neil out of the conversation, not trusting his vice-captain to speak, but the interviewer was persistent.” IM CACKLING NEIL CANNOT BE RESTRAINED KEVIN LET HIM LOOSE

- THANK U NORA FOR GIVING US KEVIN AND NEIL BANTER WE R SO BLESSED

- kevin kicking neil under the table 🫶 neil saying if kevin was honest about the ravens he wouldn’t have to be and kevin saying bitch ur literally the least honest person i know🫶 they love each other so bad

- “They don’t deserve kindness from me after everything they’ve put us through,” Neil insisted. “I hope they lose every game this season, and I’ll say it as many times as someone asks me. They don’t belong on the court until everyone Coach Moriyama trained has been cleared out of there. Edgar Allan should have farmed them out to other schools and dismantled the entire program, if you ask me.” HE SAID WHAT HE SAID AND HE WASNT WRONG OK HE STOOD ON BUSINESS THAT IS THE NEIL I KNOW AND LOVE THANK U FOR UR INPUT KING

and all kevin says is

“they didn’t ask you”

- “Kevin forgot all about his contentious teammate in favor of Trojan gossip.” i love him

- kevin defending jean, being confused why the interviewer thought he’d get in a brawl 🫶

- “Glad to see his ribs healed up without any lingering consequences for anyone involved.” neil u little instigating shit u!!!

- kevin POINTEDLY rubbing his scarred hand and then saying “With all due respect, there is no point,” he said. “You will never take anyone’s word over theirs, so you are best off asking the Ravens for the truth. But good luck: they do not know how to tell it unless one has been fed to them.” HE SAID THAT HE WENT THERE HE SAID FUCK UR BULLSHIT FUCK UR DICK RIDING OPEN UR EYES AND GROW A BRAIN BECAUSE THE RAVENS ARE NOT WHO U THINK THEY ARE

OHHHHH IM SHAKING IN MY BOOTS GUYS THIS IS MONUMENTAL LORD I LOVE THEM

- oh jere ur so jealous of renee and u don’t even know it

- it’s quite sad reading about how the graduated ravens career in exy only lasts about five years before the succumb to chronic pain etc. as much as i hate them for their actions, their treatment of jean and kevin and enabling of riko. they too were mistreated by riko and tetsuji and as much as they all still maintain that cult like loyalty to the ravens it is just very sad

- “Jeremy feared for Jean’s long-term health, but he feared for Kevin’s more.” oh jere ur so kind

- i’m ngl im so bad with names when im reading, especially when there’s heaps of characters. if one person only gets called by their last name and occasionally someone mentions their first name im going to assume it’s a whole different person. i cannot remember like half of the trojan lineup if im being completely honest with u

- ik u guys don’t give a fuck coz ur only here for the book but writing these is like writing a diary to me and i feel compelled to interject with random personal updates. i have exactly 100 pages left and less than an hour before i have to start getting ready for uni and leave and im desperate to finish it. lets lock in

- having to take a deep breath before i read the fox/raven game guys im so excited im shaking

- HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHITTTTTT

- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST U GET DISTRACTED FROM THE GAME FOR ONE SECOND AND SOMEONES ALREADY TRYNA KILL NEIL!! THEY BARELY STARTED PLAYING!!! GET THE FUCK OFF HIM BITCH

- KEVIN RUNNING TO GET TO NEIL AND BEING ATTACKED AND DAN FIGHTING OFF HIS ATTACKER AND KEVIN IMMEDIATELY STRAIGHT BACK TO GETTING NEIL AHHHH

- ALL I CAN SAY IS WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHITTTTT

- andrew dragging wymack to get to neil while being injured ohhhhhh it’s baltimore all over again

- andrew immediately bodying the girl tryna attack neil with an injured arm and kevin kneeling beside neil. god he’s so loved and protected

- THIRTY SECONDS INTO THE HALF????

- “Boyd had no problems taking on a second body.” YEAH THATS RIGHT

- “Someone had finally gotten Neil to his feet, and Andrew was somehow keeping him there.” neil thought andrew looked steady, like he could hold him up😭

- UM FUCK THAT????? I AGREE DILLON WHY TF WERE THE GUY WHO HIT ANDREW AND LANE WHO TRIED TO LITWRALLY KILL NEIL AND WENT BACK FOR MORE EXEMPT FROM SUSPENSIONS BUT ANDREW WASNT

CHAPTER TWENTY

- lowkey is suchhhh a slight to put ur third lineup/not as great players on as starting. if i was the utes and i saw them do that id be so cut like ok i see what ur saying here

- “Being a victim doesn’t automatically absolve someone of their wrongdoings,” he said at last. “I can regret what they’re going through now, but I am not required to forgive them for what they’ve done to people I care about. I genuinely hope they get the help they need, and I hope it happens as far from the court as possible. Josten was right: none of them are ready to be back yet. It isn’t fair to them or anyone they’re up against.”

you took the words right out of my mouth jeremy. very diplomatic, two things can be true at once. the ravens need to heal and unlearn the bad behaviour they have been taught and stop inflicting it on others, they have been abused yes but that does not negate the abuse they contain to perpetuate and enact on others such as the foxes and jean. i hate them and i also want them to get better for their sake and everyone around them

- god jeremy has so much more patience and a stronger will than i could ever have. if someone sat their and kept pressing me and talking shit about my team i couldn’t refrain from starting an argument

-“He doesn’t want to challenge them. I don’t have to like it, and I won’t stop encouraging him to stand his ground, but I’m not going to force him into a confrontation he’s not ready to have. He’s learning how to trust us. I can’t betray him.”

ur already doing so well by him jeremy

- WHATS GOING ON PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE TELL ME GIVE ME UPDATES OM THE FOXES!! WHATS RHEMANN SAID THAT GOT JEAN SO IPSET

- THE RAVENS HAVE BEEN SUSPENDED HOLY SHITTTTTT

- “He knew Rhemann had great respect for Wymack and the way he’d crafted his unorthodox team, and Rhemann had never hesitated to throw his weight behind Palmetto State when the ERC seemed poised to strike the small team down,” MUCH RESPECT TO RHEMANN GOTTA LOVE HIM

- TWO FRACTURED RIBS OHHHHH HES NOT GONNA BE HAPPY ABOUT THAT

(the missing out on court time)

- wymack and abby and andrew are gonna have their work cut out for them trying to stop him from playing

- GODDD A FRACTURE CLAVICAL ON ANDREW TOO???

- “Say the word and I’ll fight him over Christmas break,” Cody said. “I wasn’t going to go home for it, but I’ll make an exception.” LOVE THEMMMM I KNOW ITS A JOKE BUT LIKE TROJANS DONT EVEN JOKE ABOUT FIGHTING PEOPLE AND THEYRE DOING IT FOR JEAN

- jean hating cam because he was rude to thea oh he’s so good

- “How Jean’s kind heart had survived a place like Evermore, Jeremy wasn’t sure.” HE WAS ALWQYS TOO GOOD FOR THEM THIS SHITS GONNA MAKE ME CRY ON THE TRAIN RN

- OH MY FUCKING GOD I WAS THINKING JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAS SOMEONE SET THEIR HOUSE/COURT ON FIRE???

THEY DID WTF OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS IS INSANE MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR

god i can’t even imagine their heartbreak this is so devastating. jeans first real home, the very little amount of possessions he had to his name all gone. the beautiful home laila and cat have constructed over the years a reflection of who they are as people, jeans safe haven. my chest aches for them.

jeans postcards from kevin and his 4th of july wristband :(( and knowing how guilty he’s going to feel over this,

- “You’re a victim as much as Cat and Laila are, so don’t take on a burden that isn’t yours. It won’t help any of you. Do you understand?”

“They adore you and so will gladly reassure you of your innocence until you believe them, but your unasked-for guilt is a distraction from their loss and grief. They don’t deserve that extra stress right now.”

“The best thing you can do right now is accept that some people are assholes and that it is outside of your control. Mourn what you’ve lost without carrying more than you should.”

some very wise words for jere, min and xavier there. it’s very easy to fall into the unending spiral of guilt and convince urself that u are at fault when that may not necessarily be the case

- rest in peace barkbark

- if this was a physical book there would be tears trains all over the pages of this chapter :(

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

- ohhhh jean hugging cat like she always does for him because it always makes him feel better im sooooo sick

- unnecessary life update no.5123849: i’m officially finished classes for today and i got to catch up with the only friend i can talk about aftg with for coffee, she hasn’t finished the book yet but it was much needed to get all my feelings out lmao

- “He’s only been playing for fourteen years, you can’t expect his own mother to know how an Exy season works.” cat is the friend everyone deserves

- AGENT BROWNING MAKES HIS RETURN

- “I hate this sport,” Browning said to his partner. “Explain to me why they’re all like this.” THiIS IS TEWWWW FUNNYYYYYY

browning fucking hates exy players

- oh wow look at the fbi being helpful once, that’s a shock

- idk if this is just because i’m not a part of sport culture or if it’s because im not american. but it’s so crazy to me that people (grown adults) are THAT invested in college sport that they would care this much i.e. burn down someone’s house in retaliation. idk maybe this is a thing that happens in the real life sporting fandom or maybe i should focus on the fact that this is fiction

[beef-brisket]

Pulling the blankets up to his chin, Adam sighed. He's definitely fucked things up with him. Adam couldn't even be mad at Lucifer. It wasn't his fault. None of this it.

He got taken, and Adam chose to believe the literal murder over his chief. His superior. His friend.

Adam wished Lucifer had accepted his resignation. How could he go back to work and face everyone? An hour or two was nothing. Mostly, everyone avoided him, but to return full time? No one will trust him. No one does trust him.

As much as Adam hates to admit it, he fell asleep crying.

-

Standing outside of Emily's office was as daunting as he thought it would be. In fact, it was worse. So much worse.

Adam could already feel his hands shaking in his pockets.

Emily: Adam? Come on in!

Adam did his best to smile, but it probably didn't look like one. Walking in, he was surprised by how normal the room looked. He was expecting chains and torture devices.

He takes a seat across from Emily, it was close to the door, so if he needed to run, he could.

Emily: So, Chief Lucifer said something went down a few days ago, but he also mentioned something about you working on a case for a few months. Shall we start with that?

Adam shrugged.

Emily: What case was it?

Adam: ...The Devil case.

Emily nodded: Why that case?

Asam: ...No reason.

Emily: Adam, just so you know, if I feel like you aren't being truthful with me, I will go to your superior and ask for additional information. Or, I won't deem you fit for work. Understood?

Adam nodded: I-I understand.

Emily: Very good. I want to help you, Adam. Really, I do. Why did you have an interest in that case?

Adam: ...My... parents were murdered... by him. And... I was home when it happened...

Emily wrote something down: I'm sorry, Adam. That must have been hard for you.

Adam shrugged: It's fine...

Emily: What kind of therapy did you attend afterwards?

Adam: I didn't attend any.

Emily stared at Adam for a moment before writing something down in her note book: I see. How old were you?

Adam: Fifteen.

Emily: And... you're how old now?

Adam: Twenty seven.

Emily: And this is your first time doing anything like this?

Adam nods, which makes Emily sigh. This was going to be a long few sessions, and it won't help if Adam doesn't give up information easily.

Serial Killer x FBI Agent

Bonus points: Lucifer is the senior agent training Adam and is also the killer he's training Adam to find.

Stalking

Possessive behavior

He would (and will) kill for Adam

How did you know I love problematic!Lucifer?

Poor Adam just wants to do his job, and now he has a serial killer after him.

[hellokittykookies]

Pose for me - J.JK -

──── sypnosis ✮⋆˙ After years of running from the life you never wanted, you thought you had finally succeeded. erasing y/n, becoming ji-ha, and leaving your past behind. But then came him. A model you accidentally brought to a cotillion, a man effortlessly loved by the woman who had become family to you. And it just so happens He was connected to the one person you abandoned nine years ago. You were supposed to avoid him. To walk away. So why did you keep finding yourself right next to him?

──── pairings ✮⋆˙ Model! jk x Photographer! reader (y/n also ji ah)

──── genre ✮⋆˙ slow burn, fake dating, forced proximity, angst, romance, mutual pining, emotional hurt/comfort, smut, hidden identity, jealousy, high fashion industry setting

──── contents ✮⋆˙ simp!jungkook, creative director!reader, reader works at dior, model!jungkook, jealousy, secret lingering touches, soft but intense sexual tension, rich! reader, rich! jungkook, domestic moments, unresolved tension, slow trust-building, implied sex (not detailed) unprotected sex (it's not detailed. just implied), family issues, abandonment themes, identity struggles, missing person case mentions, emotional breakdowns, trust issues, georgina is inspired by georgina sparks, inspired by gossip girl and devil wears prada, brother! taehyung, assistant! georgina, calvin klein jungkook, jungkook is like the main main model or the face of calvin klein, part time photographer! reader (it's her side quest pls), petty fights, bickering, push and pull?, nepo baby! jk (mentioned), make outs, kissing, teasing, curse words.

──── notes ✮⋆˙ this was last year. i haven't written anything in a while. i was looking or browsing my works on wattpad and saw this fic that i completely forgot about. i posted a poll and yall voted for me to post it so here it is! your wish is my command. haha. i'm still not sure if i wanna come back to writing but this fic is making me want to. the problem? no motivations and my words aren't still wording like before. i made my friend read the whole fic and helped me fix it and edit it so here it iss! most of the fics that were posted here in my acc will be reposted in ao3 or wattpad. reading this fic was mind blowing to me honestly. i feel proud about this.... i'm sorry if it doesn't feel rght or not omg i am not an expert at these things. i searched and researched stuff about devil wears prada outfits to change her outfits cuz it was sooo bad in the draft. like... tf you mean you're THAT rich and you're wearing forever 21 skinny jeans with fucking fitted top?? omg... my friend and i was cringing sooo baaddd. the amount of times i wrote "your breath hitched" "then" "smirk" what the fuck honestly... wrote this like actually july 2024 or something. i tried my best making this better so pls bare with me. the contents are there and the notes is here. if you don't like it feel free to give feedbacks but pls make it a little nicer maybe? also this was the time i was soo obsessed with devil wears prada. me and my friend changed the names, characters and some of the character traits cuz we thought it'd be fun if we added georgina sparks inspired character here (minus the part where she always want drama or trouble ofc), again i am not an expert at these stuff. had to literally ask my mom shit about her bags and designer stuff when i was re editing this. also i looovveee calvin klein jk omg... i can NEVER get over that era. we made ocs character a little bit moree pushy and stuff like pushing jk away and more in denial lmao. don't even know if this is slow burn or not but whatever.

──── WC ✮⋆˙ 34k

tumblr won't let me post all of it all at once so i'll post each of it part by part. atleast like 5k words per chapt next week as i have a flight tommorow lolll. also fly high michelle trachtenberg:(((

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TEN

ELEVEN

[fujii-draws]

Been meaning to ask, what /did/ inspire your reading of dadnoir?

I like it a lot, i even use it, but i got it from you and i want to know more about what inspired you to write it?

Hihi!! I am more than happy to explain it :3

Admittedly at first I really wasn’t thinking too much about Ribbons/Aimilios’s relationship with him. I was also originally of the opinion “Oh those three would just hate eachother like some sitcom but tolerate the other’s existence for Grovyle/Celebi’s sakes” But that was before I made this art piece.

(Ironically the first one I did of those three before the madness deadass consumed me)

I was originally drawing with my feelings towards Dusknoir in mind (Which was absolutely trusting and loving the guy before he did the whole betrayal thing. And hating his ass) but something about it legitimately made something click. There was such an interesting, complicated, and tragic relationship to be had with those three. That had so much god damn potential for interactions/dynamics/angst that I saw equal to the whole Grovyle/Dusknoir’s uneasy truce in EP5.

“What if Aimilios(partner) wasn’t the only Pokémon who looked up to Dusknoir, but Ribbons did, too. And even more unfortunately, Dusknoir going from playing the role of their “friend”, only then get attached to them, too. Causing a whole mess of internal conflict while those two are snuggling up to him.”

Now, before I get into this next segment, I’d like to preface that I’m aware that it was never the writers intention to imply or insinuate a relationship between those three. This is just a veryyy fun what-if scenario that is unintentionally backed with some context if you squint at certain segments. I frolick in the field of headcannons and different interpretations because it’s fun, and I don’t like trying to justify the dadnoir Au’s existence over and over again with ‘ahhh sorry guys I know this is ooc :(((((‘ and am very much past that phase. I have nothing to apologize for, and neither should you if you enjoy the hc! and will now unapologetically enter my joker arc 👍

(I am also okay with people not liking /enjoying it! We can still be chill :3 so long as you don’t actively try to put the hc down out of sheer disdain. Other than that!! Cheers to the folks who don’t understand or even like Dadnoir, who are still willing to hear me out! (And even the ones who don’t and respectfully click off this post!)

Long Dadnoir Tangent undercut

—

1.

Worrying over Hero/Partner genuinely even though there’s virtually nothing to gain from saving two random Pokémon who you’re gonna leave in a world of ruin regardless.

2.

Defending those two while showcasing both sides of Dusknoir (where he’s willing to be merciful to the Manectric, but fight on behalf of Hero/Partner after what Team Skull pulled.)(if he was just an overly cynical, unbearable asshole why is he even bothering with this)

3.

While this is absolutely leaning more towards him making sure they’re alright so he can prepare to officially and personally execute them, I think it’d be more sweet if this was more of a slip of the tongue on his part. “Hoho! Farewell little, vulnerable Pokémon I’ve gained a small attachment to. Wait what.” (WHILE I DONT HAVE THE SS, if you talk to him again, he tells them to be careful. Again.)

4.

I remember a post from @defendglobe that was equivalent to “did he seem more uncomfortable with praises now that he knew he was basically deceiving everyone” and I love that take so much that I’m putting it here.

5.

Ohhh Crystal Lake. How I love you.

Another instance. Where Dusknoir absolutely could have let everything play out. Get rid of 1/3 of his targets while incriminating Grovyle even further as a villain. He knew who partner and hero were at that point. He knew his mission. And yet he acted. It’s so hilarious how similar this and Dusknoir pushing Grovyle out of the way of the stalactite in EP5. My ghost in Christ you could have gotten rid of them so much sooner.

6.

I fucking loooove this little scene so much. How Mespirit and Uxie go over to Azelf in pure worry. How close they get near them. How Dusknoir Hero Partner have the same interaction, yet the renowned explorer keeping physical(emotional) distance away from them. How it’s exactly three Pokémon checking up on eachother in back-to-back scenes.

7.

I Don’t think I Need a Screenshot for the elusive “Well… this is… good-bye… Or is it? Scene; BUT. Something I never considered was him stalling bc I thought he was being a theatrical asshole and pausing for dramatic effect during his betrayal. But i remember a post of someone saying the “…”‘s in his dailouge almost felt like he was hesitating and. Shit. that makes me so insane.

And now, onto the angsty future bits.

Again, Dusknoir absolutely did the shit he did to those two. And I don’t want to take away from it by softening the blow or woobifying him. If anything, the previous explanations/Dusknoir enjoying his time with them(and Vice versa) adds onto the tragedy and angst so much more and I love it. From this point on he is as cold and calculating as he is in game. I only hc the moments of hesitation during the Stoneship fight.

8.

There is something so genuinely heartbreaking about partner’s denial throughout the entirety of the Paralyzed future segments. The refusal to admit that Dusknoir was a horrible Pokémon, and clinging onto hope that he was still good.

AND THE GOD DAMN TEARY EYED SPRITE. YOU CANNOT MAKE THIS UP. HE LOOKED UP TO DUSKNOIR SO MUCH AND FELT SO BETRAYED.

And the implications Hero gave up too from Partner’s words alone. The fact Hero has no dialogue after Dusknoir revealed just how cruelly and easy it was to manipulate them.

And just. Partner’s teary-to-determined sprite pipeline after *finally* getting their shit together and realizing the truth. That they need to stop defending him and be there for Hero. I am going to die. Badly.

And even after all that Dusknoir put them through. Partner doesn’t just go “yeah lmao pretty much” and reels back on calling him heinous and wicked even though that was absolutely justified.

Like. God there’s so many crumbs that made me realize on rewatches that the concept had actual merit and potential. And I love it so so dearly. There’s so much potential oozing and fun to be had with Dusknoir being close to those two (or any other Pokémon you see fit.) regardless of Celebi and Grovyle that can work. I still think futuretrio is an amazing dynamic and trio of Pokémon.

And i am also of the opinion of him only rarely showing devotion and care for Pokémon he loves. But still is fairly respectful to randoms he doesn’t know as well. And I think it not being solely restricted to Grovyle/Celebi can can make for some really sweet dynamics. Again, I love Grovyle/Celebi/Dusknoir so much. And Ribbons/Aimilios/Dusknoir’s relationship makes me equally as insane if not more.

It’s why I adore it when I see Dusknoir x oc or Dusknoir x sona’s in the fandom that are unapologetically lovey. I hold hands and continue to love whatever new future trio art my mutuals/friends have in store. I appreciate majority of this fandom for it’s open mindedness and kindness.

And on one last note, the reason why the concept of Dadnoir appeals to me so much, is explained so masterfully by one of my good friend’s @gaydiation-poisoning that I will now share with you all

^^^ they’ve been on the dadnoir train for the longest out of anyone I’ve ever met (EVEN ME.) and they put it. So well. (Without even mentioning the pure drama and bittersweet tension upon his return to Treasure town.)(Like fuck man. The idea of Hero/Partner slowly learning to retrust him after… everything. Emotionally and Physically. The time it’d take. The conflict and continued back-and-forth dynamics between them. and the one ghost who desperately wanted to live in retribution for their lives; trying genuinely, no stings attached this time, to try and reconnect with those two.) [not even mentioning the fun switch up of famous explorer + two recruits trying to impress and get close to him, vs famous explorer(s) + fallen from grace explorer trying to get close and rekindle a tainted relationship.] take these three away from me they make me sickkk

And I really hope I, alongside the many others who’ve adapted this hc, can inspire u to keep loving whatever you want anon. Regardless of how in-character or out it may seem. Don’t be afraid to make what you love.

[steelthroat]

Drift, Optimus Prime, and LOVE

Everyone who has followed this blog for at least a year knows that I ship Drift and Optimus Prime for several (kinda silly) reasons. Namely:

They look hot together (thick thighs squad)

A crystal/horoscope/pagan girlie and an atheist pope. (Oversimplification but funny as fuck)

Deadlock domming/getting dommed by Optimus Prime? Sign me the fuck up.

But.

But I totally overlooked the fact that I have CANON material backing me up. Ohohoho let me get my sources.

Lil disclaimer: I have a love/hate relationship with the first idw run. I don't know which one is stronger tbf. Even if I don't agree with several plot points I'm going to discuss I can still see how they [intentionally or not] formed a bugger picture that serves my purposes. It's a bit of cherry picking if I have to be honest, but I don't feel too guilty looking at all the retcons this series had to begin with.

Why am I saying this? Because Drift as a character is one of the things I both love and hate for the way he was handled as a whole, but I won't go into details because it's not necessary and because I have already seen people on this site articulate this better than I could. The same thing applies to Ratchet, but that is another can of worms, and I am not willing to open it now.

So:

Drift: He comes from Rodion, where he is homeless and is found in a state of confusion by Orion Pax that saved him from Sonic and Boom (these fucking names 💀) and was then brought from HIM to Ratchet's underground clinic.

At this point I was full on rambling in the server becasue:

So to tidy up all that here's what I was hinting at:

Ratchet and his words sure were the initial push that Drift needed to get his life back "together"(as much as one can during a war, but you understand what I'm saying) were it not for Orion Pax's choices he wouldn't be here at all.

Orion Pax saved a mech from two thugs, someone completely out of their wits in that moment, a complete stranger. He had done his job, thugs were dealt with and then he could either arrest Drift (don't quote me on that but I am pretty sure whatever circuit booster he was on was not legal/legally obtained) ergo. Drift would die.

Or take him to a normal hospital, so either Drift died or he would later have troubles with the law, or whatever way the system could further fuck him up. Either way Drift does NOT meet Ratchet.

But Orion Pax took Drift's lufe in his hands and brought him to Ratchet. So he ensured that he had both a good doctor and someone he KNEW and trusted AND that Drift would not suffer more than he already did.

So- Ratchet is sure Drift's [hero/important person/insert better word here*] because he was the doctor that saved him from a fatal overdose and that told him he was special and all that.

But ORION PAX hauled him up and made sure he would live in the first place. And I Will come back to this point later to expand on it. Remember it.

So you see the sentence "what if not the love for life itself of Orion Pax saved Drift?"

This is what then promoted another ramble about a scene I wanted to put in another fic and then about idw OP so... I will ignore the part regarding my wip because it's not too relevant and juno to the idw op part:

To explain how I came to this it's because I was imagining a scene in which Optimus Prime sees Drift and Ratchet and then had a convo with Drift.

And to further prive my point Drift is one of the several statements of LOVE from Op/Orion.

Every action in the comics is driven by an enormous amount of love underneath. The love for "freedom, those he cares about, those that are weaker, those that cannot fend for themselves end even for his enemies and their battles"

Now you can say these are all different kinds of "love" and yet Orion Pax and Optimus Prime both love ardently. His anger and guilt DO come from their love! Ffs it's right there abfjgjg.

Now i went on a rant about Megatron and how he benefits from Optimus' love

Please ignore my bad grammar I was going crazy

The post I was talking about is this one by @desdemonafictional

That inspired part of the entire thing about love and the part about Megatron and fear.

So to go back to my original statement about Optimus Prime and Drift.

Optimus Prime is really a teagic character and I was getting a bit teary thinking about him if I have to be honest. He sacrificed so much and got such little payoff, even speaking of meta.

All the good things that came from his action, well he is able to witness a very small percentage of them. All the goodbyes and the people he cared for were denied to him.

Drift. Drift exists thanks to Orion's love. Drift met the love of his life, he met his friends, he found reasons to live, and found himself and yet...

Optimus Prime was never able to see Ratchet and Drift together. His best friend and a mech he saved so long ago happy and together.

As I said above, the price Optimus Prime/Orion Pax paid for the love of life itself he felt so strongly was all of himself... just so others could love.

If I got anything wrong, please correct me. i am a bit rusty speaking of comics. i tried my best :)

[celestialgallaghers]

Double Dare Ya pt 2 [18+]

Part 1

I’m sorry this took so long I kept changing my mind on where I wanted it to go. I hope you enjoy <3

Summary: Still reeling from your encounter with Noel, you find yourself not wanting to see him again. That is, until you run into him in a place you really should've expected, now face to face with the memory that’s been haunting you.

Word count: 7.6k

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You paced the length of your flat, chewing at your thumbnail. You weren’t entirely sure why you felt this way. 

Well, maybe a little. 

Jo already knew, obviously. She’d guessed as much. But that wasn’t what had you on edge.

It was what came next.

She’d want to talk about it. Pick it apart. Ask you how you felt. And a week after the incident, you still didn’t have an answer.

What you did know was that you felt guilty. You’d been avoiding her calls for days and it was starting to weigh on you.

Soon after she’d caught you, she had her little "told you so" moment, but the second she started prying, you shut down. You’d barely been able to process it yourself, let alone talk about it. Instead, you mumbled a half-assed promise to talk soon and basically ran all the way home without saying another word to anyone.

But now, after days of radio silence, you had no excuse.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up the receiver and dialed her number. 

"Finally," Jo answered on the first ring, exasperation evident. "I was about to send a search and rescue team to make sure you were still alive."

You winced. "I know, I know. I’m sorry. I should've called sooner, I just… didn’t really know what to say. And I still don’t, so don’t expect much," you warned.

You could practically hear the smug smile in her voice as she waited for you to continue.

Then, a sudden realization struck, sending a wave of panic over you. You weren’t her only source of information in this situation. 

"You… uh, didn’t talk to him about this, did you?" you asked hesitantly.

"Noel?" she half-laughed. "No, I trust you way more to tell me the truth."

Your pulse slowed, but only slightly. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

"But," she continued, "I did see him briefly, a few hours after you left. Completely off his head with some other bird, doing god knows what." She huffed. "Sorry." 

She added it as an afterthought, as if you’d be hurt by this information.

"No, no, it’s not like that at all," you said quickly. "This was just a one-time thing. I really couldn’t care less who he’s screwing."

It was easier that way. Knowing it wasn’t a big deal to him. And yet, somewhere deep in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of something that you didn’t want to name. It was quickly smothered.

"I think I just want to put the whole thing behind me," you said, hoping to make it sound final. "Chalk it up to a moment of weakness."

She was quiet for a moment. "Really? Well that’s a shame. I think you two would get on well."

You huffed out a laugh, trying hard to downplay her words. "I think I’ve had enough of your matchmaking, thanks."

Silence stretched between you. She was obviously waiting for you to continue.

You twirled the phone cord between your fingers anxiously. "So, um, I guess you already know what happened, but I don’t really know where to start and I know you have questions so—" 

"You sucked him off, right?" she cut in bluntly.

You choked. "Well, no, I—"

She gasped. "Oh my God, you fucked him? Right in that dirty field? You little slut!"

"Christ, let me finish," you groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. "I just gave him a handy. That’s all."

God, what was happening? You weren’t a prude by any means, but just saying the words out loud made your face burn like you were confessing some deep, filthy secret.

"Oh, that’s all is it?" she teased, amused by your flusteredness. "Must not have been a good one if he was fishing for more after."

"Oh, shut up," you shot back. "It was good enough."

"Was it?" she prodded, clearly fishing for more.

You hesitated. "Yes it was." 

Flashes of Noel’s trembling body beneath you surfaced in your mind, unbidden. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing them away.

"And that’s all you’re getting," you added firmly.

She tsked. "What’s the point of having girlfriends if we can’t talk about how men are in the sack?"

You sighed. "This is different, and you know it. He’s… well, him. And you’re friends with him too. It doesn’t feel right."

And while you knew Noel didn’t exactly shy away from bragging about his sex romps, something told you that whatever happened in that field wasn’t exactly routine for him. Or at least you thought so. Although you could be entirely wrong. You barely knew him for fucks sake. 

Either way, the idea of sharing the details didn’t sit right with you. Jo could keep a secret, sure. But still… you didn’t want to tell her.

"Then what’s the point of even calling me?" she grumbled.

"Fine," you huffed. You had to placate her in some way. "All you’re getting is that he’s a good kisser. Spread the word I’m sure it’d inflate his ego even more," you said dryly.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. D’you think you want to see him again?"

You bit your lip. You didn’t really know the answer to that. 

The logical answer was no. You should avoid him. Avoid every place he might be. The idea of facing him again made your stomach churn. Would it be awkward? Would he act smug about it? Or worse—would he brush it off completely?

And yet another part of you was saying yes. Because what if he wanted more? The thought had never fully formed before now, but the moment it did, it burrowed deep. The whole thing had been amusing and incredibly filthy. 

But would he want it again?

Would you?

It seemed impossible. He was famous. He did this all the time, didn’t he? It was meaningless. That’s what you should believe.

And yet, that glimmer of vulnerability, of realness, it had enthralled you much more than you would've liked to admit. 

Not that you’d ever admit that to Jo.

"I don’t know," you admitted. "I don’t think so."

"Why not?"

"It’s…too confusing. Like I said, it was just a one-time thing." 

She was quiet for a moment. Like she was holding back her disappointment. 

"Well, I’m not gonna force you," she said, "but I think you should reconsider."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Jo."

"All I’m saying is that you guys would—"

"Jo, I’m hanging up now."

"Wait!" was all you heard before you slammed the phone back onto the receiver, exhaling sharply.

Fucking hell what had you gotten yourself into.

❦ ❦ ❦

True to your word, you became hyper-aware of everywhere you went. 

The city was massive yet it suddenly felt suffocating, like you were navigating a minefield. No matter how much you tried to avoid him, Oasis was inescapable. Their songs followed you into every shop, their faces stared back at you from every magazine stand. It was maddening. Everywhere you turned, there he was. A reminder of that night. It was like the universe was playing some cruel joke on you.

One night, you flicked on the telly only to be met with Noel’s face. He was on some late-night interview show, sprawled lazily in his seat, exuding that signature self-assurance. Your thumb hovered over the remote, hesitating. Watching him now, it almost felt like you knew something about him that no one else did. Because for all his bravado, for all his sharp words and easy smirks, he was actually quite malleable. Quick to break if you knew where to apply the right pressure. 

Then, as if on cue, he flashed the camera a crooked smile, and for a moment all you could think about were the broken moans that had fallen from that very mouth. The weight of him in your hand. The way he had unraveled beneath you. 

A flush of heat curled in your stomach, creeping lower before you could stop it. 

With a sharp inhale, you grabbed the remote and switched off the TV, tossing it aside like it had burned you.

You needed to get a fucking grip.

Nights out had become a hassle too. 

Jo kept trying to drag you along, promising Noel wouldn’t be there, but you didn’t want to tempt fate. No matter how much you didn’t want to, you spent night after night in your flat, drinking alone, watching trashy TV with a scowl on your face. You knew you couldn’t keep this up forever, but it needed to blow over before you were less on edge. 

Yesterday, though, Jo had finally lost her patience.

"I don’t understand what’s so bad about what happened that you won’t even face him. This is starting to get a bit ridiculous. You're gonna have to come out of hiding at some point."

She was right of course. What was so bad about it? You were starting to feel too much like a coward. 

Her words still rang in your mind tonight. And after one too many glasses of wine, irritation was starting to creep in.

Why the hell were you letting him dictate your life like this? You’d spent weeks holed up like some estranged recluse, avoiding places you used to love. And for what? Noel fucking Gallagher?

It was pathetic really. And you were over it. 

Before you could overthink it, you were rifling through your closet, yanking out the most flattering dress you owned. Twenty minutes later, you were out on the streets, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. Like shedding an old skin. A rebirth. A good fuck would be just the thing to snap you out of this.

You hadn’t even registered where your feet were taking you until you found yourself outside the same club where this whole mess with Noel had started. 

Well. If there was ever a place to begin again, this was as good as any.

The fleeting thought that he might be inside entered your mind, but you ignored it. You were too determined to care. And besides fuck him. You didn’t owe him anything.

It didn’t take long before a man approached you. He was attractive enough, at least for what you needed tonight. When he offered to buy you a drink, you let him. You laid it on thick—laughing at his mediocre jokes, brushing your knees together, a coy smile curving your lips.

When he asked you to dance, you didn’t hesitate. This new version of you liked dancing. For a while, you let yourself melt into the music, let the bass vibrate through your bones, let the alcohol dull the edges of everything sharp.

His body was pressed against yours, radiating heat and hands roaming. It was making you feel alive. Letting yourself revel in the heady mix of sweat, liquor, and fleeting affection. It felt good. It felt easy. 

You were breathless and flushed, and when he leaned down and asked if you wanted to get out of there, you agreed without a second thought.

The two of you stumbled through the club, laughter bubbling in your throat as you leaned into him, ready to disappear into the night. But the moment shattered when you rounded the corner and collided heavily with another pair of bodies.

"Watch it, cunt," he voice was sharp, impatient. Familiar.

Your stomach plummeted.

Noel.

His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt rooted to the spot. Your mind was suddenly infuriatingly blank. For all the time you’d spent avoiding him, you hadn’t once considered what you’d say if you actually saw him again.

For a fleeting second, something unreadable flickered across his face. Was he thinking the same thing? Or had you not even crossed his mind since that night?

"Sorry mate," the man beside you muttered, breaking you out of your sudden trance. You’d nearly forgotten he was there. His arm slipped around your waist, and the touch suddenly felt like acid burning your skin. 

Noel’s gaze flicked down, tracking the movement. His jaw tightened just slightly, just enough for you to see it if you were looking. And you were looking.

You forced yourself to look elsewhere. That’s when you noticed he wasn’t alone. A brunette clung to him. Not the same one as last time, but close enough. 

Right. 

This was what he did. Moved from one woman to the next like it meant nothing.

Again the irritation flared hot in your chest. Now you remembered why you were avoiding him.

"Noel," you greeted smoothly, summoning every ounce of detachment you had.

His lips curled into something smug, his usual arrogance snapping back into place. "Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again, love."

"Yeah, well," you tilted your head, mirroring his smugness. "Let’s hope this is the last time."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, amusement glinting in his eyes as his gaze dragged over you before flicking dismissively to the man at your side.

"Enjoy her, mate," he said, voice light but laced with something else. "She’s a right good time."

Then he winked at you and sauntered off, pulling his brunette along with him.

You exhaled sharply, tempted to grab the nearest object and hurl it at the back of his head. 

So that was it then.

"Was that Noel Gallagher?" The guy beside you squinted after him. "Do you know him?"

You clenched your jaw. "Not really."

He studied you for a moment before adding, almost absently, "Y’know, you kinda look like that girl he was with."

Something twisted violently inside you. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked away.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

You ignored him. His voice sharpened behind you, something ugly creeping into his tone, but you didn’t stop. You just kept moving, his thick Mancunian accent you hadn’t noticed before faded into background noise.

This had been a stupid idea. A really, really stupid idea. 

Gripping the edges of the sink, you stared at yourself in the club’s bathroom mirror, swaying slightly. The fluorescent lights cast sharp shadows across your face, making you look as wrecked as you suddenly felt.

You exhaled hard, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. The night had gone sideways. Now you were just drunk and alone. Again.

You reckoned you should probably go home, but your limbs felt restless, skin too hot, mind buzzing with unspent frustration.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed open the door and stepped back into the hallway. 

As you passed the exit leading to the alley, your eyes caught on it for a moment.

What the hell might as well. It was hallowed ground now.

You pushed the door open, welcoming the rush of cool air. You had just wrapped your fingers around your pack when a voice cut through the quiet.

"Where’d your man go?"

You froze. 

No fucking way. 

Sure enough, Noel emerged from the shadows, cigarette perched between his lips, the ember casting a faint glow over his face.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you tried to suppress the aggravation rising in your chest. "Where’s your model?"

"Sent her home." he replied easily, smoke curling from his lips.

You considered walking away. That would be the smart thing to do. You didn’t need to stand here and entertain his bullshit. But there was just enough alcohol in your system, just enough lingering frustration in your chest, to make you stay. To push back.

"Were you waiting out here for me?" you accused, narrowing your eyes at him.

A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe." He shrugged, taking another drag. "Thought it was worth a shot."

Oh. You hadn’t expected him to be upfront about it. Something about the way he said it so casually made it worse. Like he already knew you wouldn’t walk away. And you knew it too.

His gaze dragged down your body, eyes lingering in a way that sent a prickle of heat across your skin. 

"S’nice dress."

"Thanks, I was dying for your approval," you deadpanned.

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, unfazed. "So, what brings you back here tonight?"

"Same thing as you, I presume."

His brows lifted. "What, him?" He jerked his head toward the club. "C’mon. You can do much better than that."

"Oh yeah? Like what, you?" you said, not even considering the implications until the words were out of your mouth. 

His grin widened, all teeth, all ego. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you said it. Not me."

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. "Jesus, do you ever stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Deflecting. Acting like nothing ever gets to you," you said, folding your arms. "Like you're untouchable."

His smirk didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

"And what, you think you’ve got me all figured out, yeah?"

"I think you're exhausting."

He let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, well. Can’t win ‘em all."

You narrowed your eyes. "So that’s it? That’s the whole act?"

"Dunno what you mean."

"Yes, you do," you pressed. "This little performance you put on is bullshit. You always go on about how real you are, but this—this is fake as fuck. And I can’t believe more people don’t see through it."

Something flashed in his gaze. It was subtle, but it was there. He took a slow drag, exhaling through his nose, like he was buying himself time.

"And what if there’s nothin’ to see through?" His voice was even, but there was an edge to it now. "What if this is just who I am? Arrogant cunt."

You studied him, trying to pick apart the layers he kept so tightly wound. He was good at this. Keeping people at arm’s length, at never letting anyone see past the smirk.

But you'd seen something else.

You tilted your head slightly, voice quieter now. "No. I know that’s not entirely true."

His amusement faltered, just slightly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I happened to really like the version of Noel I met in that field."

His expression flickered again. And for the first time since this conversation started, he didn’t have a response ready.

His mouth opened slightly, then shut. He inhaled deeply, tapping ash from his cigarette, gaze flicking away for just a second.

"And which version was that?" His voice was different now. Lower. Cautious.

Your stomach flipped.

There were two versions, weren’t there? The one who had been laid-back, at ease, warm in a way that had caught you off guard. And then the other one. The one who had let you undo him completely. The one you couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard you tried.

The silence between you was tight, buzzing. A question waiting to be answered.

You weren’t sure if he wanted to go there. If he wanted to acknowledge what had happened. Or if he’d rather let it fade into nothing.

There was really only one way to find out. 

You swallowed before speaking. "You know which one." Your voice was lower now. Careful. Calculated. Just in case he chose to pretend he didn’t hear the subtext.

His gaze flitted away for the briefest moment, like he was considering his next move, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to acknowledge it. When he looked back at you, something in his expression had shifted. Less cocky, more guarded.

You grinned. "What? No witty comeback?" You stepped closer, emboldened by his silence. The longer he stayed quiet, the bigger your smile grew.

The cigarette between his fingers hung idly, forgotten. You reached out, plucking it from his hand before bringing it to your lips, dragging slowly. Your fingers barely brushed, but the contact sent a spark skittering up your arm.

He watched you silently, his expression unreadable. Even as you blew the smoke directly into his face, he barely reacted. He just kept his eyes on you, like he was working something out in his head. 

Then, like he’d been holding it in for too long, he asked, "Why’d you run off?"

Now it was your turn to be thrown. You hadn’t expected him to confront you on that. 

Why had you run? Because staying had felt like stepping off a ledge. Because the weight of the moment had pressed too hard against your ribs, and the uncertainty had been suffocating. 

What would he have said afterward? Would he have just rolled over, lit a cigarette, and acted like it was nothing? The fear of the unknown had sent you running before he had the chance to make you regret staying.

But you weren’t about to tell him that.

You took another drag, letting the smoke linger in your lungs, buying yourself a few extra seconds before responding. 

"Look, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of groupies overstay their welcome. I just figured I’d make things easier for you by leaving before you had to ask me to, okay?"

He stared at you for a long moment. 

"I don’t think of you as a groupie," he said finally.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don’t you?"

He exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. "No groupies don’t usually make me work this hard."

You raised a brow. "Is that what this is? Work?"

He tilted his head slightly, considering you. "Let’s just say you’re not making it easy for me."

You weren’t sure why, but that response sent something sharp and unexpected through you. Maybe because it felt dangerously close to admitting something.

Silence settled between you, thick with something unspoken. The air between you had become charged and neither of you seemed to know where to go from here.

You took one final drag on his cigarette before flicking it away, the ember sparking briefly against the pavement.

At some point the space between you had shrunk, unconsciously drifting toward each other. It was like he had some sort of magnetic field that you’d gotten pulled into. And now you were now stuck in it. 

Your gaze lifted to his. He was already watching you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

You parted your lips slightly, but no words came out.

His gaze dipped to your mouth. Then back up. 

Your heart pounded.

Oh, fuck it. 

You closed the shrinking gap and kissed him.

He responded instantly. His hand slid to your back, pulling you against him, the heat of his body searing through the thin layers of fabric between you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and the noise it pulled from him, deep and needy, sent something sharp and electric surging through you.

He tasted just like you remembered. Or maybe better. Just as intoxicating, just as addictive.

At first he seemed tentative, unsure. But then he melted into it, kissing you back with a quiet urgency that made your knees weak.

"I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you," he gasped against your lips.

Heat flared in your chest. And something else. Something akin to pride.

"Me either," you admitted, voice just above a whisper.

You felt him smirk. "Oh really?"

"Yeah." Your fingers tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. "But don’t let it go to your head."

You deepened the kiss, swallowing the groan that slipped from him. The sound sent a shiver straight through you, and fuck you wanted more of it. More of him.

You nipped at his lower lip just to hear him again. Another soft noise escaped him, and you drank it in greedily.

Now you knew. Knew where you could take him. And god you wanted to see it again.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your grip on his waist tightening. "Come back to mine."

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face before you turned, making your way down the alley.

He followed.

The ride back to your flat had been…eventful. 

Noel had called his driver, and the two of you had slipped into the backseat, your legs brushing together. Neither of you spoke at first, but the silence was thick, pulsing with something electric, something inevitable.

Then his hand found your knee.

His touch was barely there, but you felt the weight of it hit you hard. A jolt of heat shot through you as he began rubbing small circles against you.

That was it.

Before you could stop yourself, you turned to him, capturing his mouth with yours in a kiss that sent him back against the seat.

He barely had a second to react before you were climbing into his lap, fingers diving into his hair. His hands shot to your waist, gripping hard. The feel of him beneath you again was dizzying, sending heat rushing straight to your core.

A low moan slipped from his throat as your weight settled over him. His fingers tightened, digging into your ass, pulling you flush against him. 

"This dress," he groaned against your lips. "God."

You smirked, lips brushing his as you teased, "You like it?"

His breath was ragged as he rasped, "So much."

You leaned in, dragging open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down the column of his throat. His skin was warm against your lips, his pulse wild beneath your touch. He shuddered when you reached the spot where his neck met his shoulder, grinning to yourself before biting down, just enough to make him gasp.

His grip on you tightened. His body tensed.

And then—

The car jerked to a stop, sending you both lurching forward.

You let out a quiet curse, quickly sliding off his lap as the driver cleared his throat from the front. 

Face burning, you smoothed down your dress, stealing a glance at Noel. He was still slumped back, breathing heavily, hair a mess, lips wet and parted.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes dark as they watched you.

Neither of you spoke as you stumbled out of the car and into your building, the silence thick with anticipation, charged with everything you hadn’t said.

Now, standing in the middle of your flat, the reality of the moment sank in. The mess you’d left behind suddenly felt glaring—clothes draped over chairs, an empty wine glass perched precariously on the coffee table.

But Noel didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

His eyes were on you. Watching. Taking you in.

Then they lifted, met yours, and held.

"Hi," you breathed, suddenly shy in a way that felt ridiculous after everything that had just happened.

"Hi," he murmured back.

And then he was on you again, pulling you into a slow, deliberate kiss. It was different from before. Less frantic, more controlled. Like he wanted to take his time.

You let him take the lead this time, curious to see where it would go.

He backed you against the wall, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, while the other found its way to your waist. His grip was firm, grounding. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself as he deepened the kiss, tongue brushing over yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

He seemed much less overwhelmed this time. More sure of himself. And, god, it was sexy.

Not that the other version of him wasn’t, but you were beginning to understand why he had a reputation for this. 

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "So… is this your move then?" you teased, though your voice was slightly uneven.

His lips ghosted over your jaw as he hummed, "What move would that be, love?"

You swallowed, heartbeat unsteady. "Oh, come on. You know. The one that drives all the girls mad with desire." You tried to sound mocking, but it barely landed.

He chuckled, low and knowing. "Depends." His thumb stroked idly along your cheek. "Do you feel mad with desire?"

Your pulse stuttered. You hated how good he was at this.

"I bet you’d just love for me to say yes, wouldn’t you?" you challenged.

"You will," he said, completely self-assured.

Then, he dipped his head, lips grazing over the curve of your neck.

You sucked in a sharp breath, body tensing as he found a particularly sensitive spot. He lingered there, lips warm, tongue darting out just slightly. Testing. Teasing.

You could feel his smirk against your skin.

And then he bit down. Not hard, but just enough. Enough to send a shock straight through you.

A strangled sound tore from your throat before you could stop it.

Noel pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes, a smug look settling on his face.

"Bastard," you muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.

He only grinned, unbothered, before moving to the other side of your neck, continuing his slow, torturous assault.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another noise. But then, one particularly well-placed kiss just below your ear had a soft whine slipping out before you could stop it.

Noel pulled back again, eyes dark, lips wet.

"Feeling mad yet?"

You exhaled sharply, realization hitting you. This was payback. For last time. You were going to have to admit to something if this was going to continue. And god you wanted it to continue. 

"Absolutely barmy," you muttered, conceding just this once.

His smirk widened before his lips crashed onto yours again, this time with a heated urgency that made you lightheaded. Your hands roamed him, desperate to feel as much as you could.

You weren’t sure how this would end, but right now you didn’t care. You just wanted more.

You pulled him toward your bed, kicking off your shoes, heat pooling low in your stomach as he pressed his body flush against yours. His breath was heavy, lips brushing along your jaw as his hands skimmed down your sides.

He exhaled a quiet laugh. "I haven’t been able to stop thinking about touching you. You didn’t let me get a turn last time." 

Your stomach tightened, heat licking up your spine. You tilted your head, lips grazing the shell of his ear. "Then you’d better make the most of it, yeah?"

A low sound rumbled in his chest, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushed you back onto the mattress, covering you with his body. His fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his gaze dark and searching.

"You always such a tease?" His voice was low, almost accusing.

You smirked, fingers threading through his hair. "You always so easy?"

For a second, you let yourself soak in the weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his breathing had shifted. Then, with a slow grin, you flipped him onto his back and straddled his hips.

A surprised sound escaped him, low and unguarded. His hands instinctively found your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. The shift left only the thin barrier of your underwear between your aching core and the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a delicious shiver up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

Noel shuddered beneath you. For a moment you wondered if he wasn’t comfortable with this dynamic again. But when you met his gaze, you searched his eyes for any hint. There was no sign of hesitation, no resistance—just raw, unfiltered desire. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat surging through you. 

You leaned down, pressing slow kisses along his jaw, trailing down his neck as your fingers worked open the buttons of his shirt. When it fell open, you let your nails drag lightly up his chest, reveling in the way his breath stuttered.

Then, unable to help yourself, you brushed a thumb over one of his nipples just to see what he’d do.

A strangled groan tore from his throat, his head tipping back against the pillows. The sound, deep and wrecked, sent a sharp pulse straight between your legs.

You were mesmerized. You needed to hear more. You moved to the other, teasing it with the same deliberate touch.

This time, the noise that left him was broken, raw, coming from somewhere deep inside him. The sound sent sharp heat twisting through you, your clit jumping at the noise. The need was possessing you, urging you to draw more out. 

You bent to kiss down his heaving chest. You couldn’t resist flicking your tongue over the hardened bud. This time his hand flew to your hair, and a breathless, high-pitched noise escaped him.

"Fuck—" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Please, I... I can't—"

"I know you can," you spoke against his skin, trailing your lips lower, down his stomach.

He shivered beneath you, body taut with tension. His breath came in uneven, shallow gasps, and you relished every single one.

You traced your fingers over the sensitive skin just above his belt, feeling him tense beneath you. Then, dazedly, you murmured against his stomach, "Do you let other people see you like this?"

His breath hitched. "Not often," he admitted, voice strained. "Doesn’t fit the image."

"Shame." You pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above his waistband. "You’re so pretty like this."

A weak laugh escaped him, breathless. "Pretty. That’s a new one."

You glanced up at him, your fingers toying with his belt. "But you are. And the noises you make are also so, so pretty."

He exhaled sharply, like your words had knocked the wind out of him.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered, voice wrecked, desperate.

You grinned, trailing your fingers lower. "Oh, I think I have some idea."

You pressed your palm against the bulge beneath his jeans, feeling him jolt beneath you.

You reached for his zipper, hands eager, impatient. The rasp of metal sounded loud in the quiet room as you shoved his jeans down, dragging them off with no pretense.

Then your eyes landed on him.

The thick strain against his boxers, the way a damp patch was spreading at the front. Your mouth went completely dry.

Noel was panting now, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. "Love, you need to—"

His words were cut off by a strangled moan the second your fingers traced over him, pressing just enough to make him twitch beneath your touch.

You exhaled sharply, warmth pooling low in your stomach. He was right there in front of you, already leaking through the fabric, the evidence of his need making you lightheaded. Your breath ghosted over him before you leaned in, brushing your lips over the damp spot.

Then, with a slow pull, you closed your mouth around it, sucking gently through the fabric.

Noel let out a ragged curse, his hips jerking up against you. "Fuck."

The desperation in his voice sent a fresh wave of arousal straight through you.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you dragged them down, drinking in the sight of him. The way his cock bobbed, standing heavy against his stomach, had something hot and primal unraveling inside you.

A small, unguarded whimper escaped him, his hands clenching into the sheets so tightly his knuckles went white.

You flicked your tongue over the bead of precum gathering at his tip, tasting the saltiness of him.

His entire body shuddered and a broken moan tore from his throat, raw and wrecked. He seemed to be struggling to form words, his lips parting, closing again, as if searching for something to say.

But he didn’t need to. You could see the silent pleading in his eyes.

And christ it undid you.

The heat coiling low in your stomach was nearing a breaking point, the relentless throb between your legs getting to be too much. You wanted to keep tasting him, wanted to hear more of those breathless, ruined sounds. But if you did, you knew he wasn’t going to last. And you needed him inside you.

Now.

Without a word, you spun, moving your hair over your shoulder. "Help me out."

His hands were shaking as he reached for you, dragging the zipper of your dress down in one slow, trembling motion, exposing every inch of you. His fingers traced along your spine, and goosebumps skittered across your skin in response.

You let the rest of the dress slip off, stepping out of your underwear in one fluid movement before turning back to him.

Noel’s gaze swept over you, his jaw tight, hands clenching into fists as if he were holding himself back.

Not for long.

You captured his mouth in a slow, deep kiss, guiding him back onto the bed, settling over him once again.

His hands grasped at your body, touch hot and desperate, sending wave after wave of need crashing through you. Your bodies were flush, nothing between you now, and the feeling of him hard against you sent a helpless moan tumbling from your lips.

You grasped him, positioning yourself over him, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants.

"Can I?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Noel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips parted as he looked up at you, utterly wrecked. He nodded, unable to form a single word.

Slowly, you began to sink down onto him, gasping at the stretch, at the heat, the way he filled you completely. Your fingers dug into his chest as you took him inch by inch, your thighs shaking from how overwhelming it felt.

His hands shot to your hips, gripping you like a lifeline as a strangled moan tore from his throat.

You could feel him deep inside you as you finally seated yourself against him. You took a moment to adjust, shivering at the contact. The white-hot heat in your veins was everywhere.

"Fuck," he choked out, his voice breaking. His body trembled beneath you, every muscle tensed, struggling to hold on.

You glanced down at him, and his dark, desperate gaze met yours.

"Christ, you feel so incredible," he rasped, voice wrecked and rough. "Need you—fuck, I need—" His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you shifted slightly, searching for the right angle.

You settled a hand against his chest and rolled your hips experimentally. The reaction was immediate.

A guttural moan tore from his throat, his hands tightening on your hips, guiding you into a rhythm he clearly needed just as badly as you did.

Your body was drowning in sensation. Every nerve alight, every muscle quivering, every inch of you focused on where you were joined. You rocked against him, getting lost in the pleasure. 

You barely registered when he planted his heels into the mattress, bracing himself. But you felt it the second he used all his force to thrust up to meet you.

A sharp, helpless cry ripped from your lips.

The force of it would have knocked you off balance if he hadn’t been gripping you so tightly, keeping you flush against him as he snapped his hips upward again.

"Fuck—Noel." His name broke from your lips as another surge of pleasure hit you like a shockwave.

Each thrust sent lightning shooting down your spine, pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. You tried to meet him, to match his rhythm, but the way he was hitting so deep, so perfectly, made it nearly impossible to keep control.

You felt him everywhere. Filling you, consuming you. It was dizzying.

His grip on your hips tightened suddenly, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you down onto him harder, deeper. His own hips surged up to meet you with every thrust, dragging you into the frantic, unrelenting pace he so badly needed.

The sounds filling the room were obscene—skin meeting skin, ragged breaths, broken moans spilling from both of you.

Your mind had gone completely blank, overtaken by pleasure, your body running purely on instinct. The only thought was ‘Noel Noel Noel’. Your own moans were getting higher, more desperate, your broken off sounds of "No-el" between each thrust spilling out. 

"Fuck—" his breath came in ragged, labored gasps, his words shattered. "You feel—so fucking—good—don’t stop—"

Your thighs were trembling from exertion, but stopping wasn’t an option. Not when you were this close. Not when every nerve was buzzing, your entire body tightening around him, the telltale buildup coiling inside you like a live wire ready to snap.

"You’re so close, love," he groaned, his grip tightening. "I can feel it—I need you to—please—I can’t hold on much longer—"

His plea sent another wave of heat crashing through you, tipping you closer to the edge.

Desperate, you moved a hand between you, flicking his nipple again, watching as he arched into your touch with a helpless, ruined moan.

"Fuck—" His voice broke. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm. "You’re gonna make me—fuck—I can’t—"

Then one deep, perfectly-angled thrust sent you spiraling.

Pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body seizing as you cried out his name. Your walls clenched around him, dragging him over the edge with you.

A strangled moan ripped from his throat as he came, his hands gripping you so hard you were sure there would be bruises. His release flooded inside you in sharp, pulsing waves.

You collapsed against him, body giving out entirely. Every muscle felt spent, useless, like you’d been wrung dry. His chest rose and fell beneath you in quick, uneven bursts, both of you still gasping for air.

For a long, breathless moment, the only thing in the world was the two of you. Bodies tangled, limbs shaking, lungs fighting for air.

You figured you should get off him to allow him to fully breathe. You slid off and onto your stomach, melting into the mattress. You could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets, but you made no move to stop it. 

Then finally, finally, the world came back into focus.

Noel shifted onto his side as he caught his breath, his fingertips resting along your spine in slow, soothing strokes. The touch sent a shiver through you, but not from arousal this time. It was something softer, something more dangerous.

The intensity of what had just occurred was overwhelming, but unlike last time, you didn’t feel the need to run.

His voice broke the quiet, rough with exhaustion. "You alright?"

You forced yourself to lift your head, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes were heavy-lidded, searching yours.

"I think so," you murmured, still breathless.

His fingers brushed damp strands of hair back from your face, the gesture unexpectedly tender. "You’re shaking," he noted, voice softer now.

You blinked. You hadn’t even realized.

Something stirred inside you at his tone. It was unfamiliar—giddy, weightless. It felt like… affection. A small smile tugged at your lips before you even realized you were doing it.

"Yeah well that’s entirely your fault," you mumbled.

He huffed out a quiet laugh before tugging you closer. His fingers resumed their slow, steady circles, and the warmth of it seeped into you, easing some of the lingering tremors.

This kind of intimacy wasn’t something you were used to. Fucking him was one thing, but this… this was something else entirely. Something you weren’t sure you should allow. But you weren’t stopping him either.

If this was what the real Noel Gallagher was like then you were in trouble.

You laid there for a moment before a nagging thought entered your mind. "I’m sorry I left you in that field."

He stilled for half a second, body tensing before he relaxed again.

"I think I was scared," you admitted. "So I ran. I’m not even sure what I was scared of, really. But… I am sorry."

Noel exhaled through his nose, considering. "I get it," he said finally. "I’m sorry if I was being, uh… too much."

You let out a quiet laugh. "No, I liked it," you confessed, cheeks heating. "I think that’s what scared me. Everything changed so fast, and I wasn’t ready for it."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were warm. "Well I’ve been known to overwhelm people with emotions."

You nudged him playfully, laughing.

"Don’t deny it, love," he teased, his voice dipping into that cocky lilt again. "You know you can’t resist me. I’m magnetic."

"Don’t you start with that again," you warned, pushing up onto your elbows.

He let out a low chuckle, but his gaze flickered down, roaming over your body now that you weren’t caught up in the haze of lust. His expression shifted, less teasing, more appreciative.

"Oh, but it’s true," he replied, his tone cheeky and playful. "You’re completely captivated by me."

You pursed your lips, fighting back a smile. "That’s yet to be proven."

"Is that so?" he murmured. He closed the space between you with a soft kiss. "I think I’m more than capable of proving it to you."

Then, in one swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, drawing a startled laugh from your throat. He grinned against your skin, pressing playful kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your neck.

"See?" he said, punctuating his words with another kiss. "Captivated."

You laughed breathlessly, fingers tangling in his hair.

You were starting to think he might be right.

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

I know this is another Noel post but I pinky promise that I have concepts of a plan for a Liam post coming next. 

[lalavenderangel]

Meet The Chavez Family - Stepbro!Nicholas x Fem!Reader

a/n: okay, okay, i’m throwing my hat in the ring lmao here’s my attempt at stepbro!Nicholas, enjoy 🤍

summary: After your dad had left it was just you and your mom and you perfectly content with that for years. But then your mom started seeing someone she met on a business trip. Soon they get married and you not only get a step dad but a step brother as well. He was annoying, obnoxious, and seriously so fucking hot. It was wrong, so wrong but you couldn’t resist him.

warnings: 18+!! eventual smut, kind of asshole Nicholas if you squint, bratty reader again if you squint, Nicholas taunting reader sexually, somewhat innocent reader, oral m!reciving (not by reader), some praise, female masturbation and i think that’s all, if i missed anything please let me know! (also it’s technically not stated just implied but reader is 20 years old.)

word count: 4.1k

You never thought the day would come that your mother met someone. Not that you didn’t want your mom to be happy of course you did but you liked that it was just you and her but of course on a business trip she met someone and within a couple months she was making plans for you to meet him. He was a nice guy, you had to admit that and you could tell he really liked your mother. It took some time but you eventually got used to him being around. But then it happened, after a year of them being together he proposed to your mom. She said yes and now your life was about to change.

“What? But mom I just started college here!” You huff as you cross your arms when your mom comes to inform you that you both would be moving to California with her fiance.

“Oh sweetie, people transfer all the time plus you’ve only been there, what, a month? It will be fine.” She says.

“Why can’t he move here?” You ask her.

“He doesn’t want to leave his son in California by himself.” She says.

“I thought his son was twenty-three years old, almost twenty-four actually. He’s an adult so why can’t he be there by himself?” You asked, shaking your head a little. This was truly unbelievable. She was just expecting you to up and move your life for some man she fell in love with? Please.

“Well yes but the thing is, he has a tendency to get himself in trouble and he actually almost got kicked out of the university so he needs to keep an eye on him.” She says sitting next to you, gently running her fingers through your hair. “Look sweetie, I know it’s not ideal at all, you grew up here but this is for the best okay?”

“Whatever.” You say and she just sighs and gets up. Was this really for the best? Who cares if his stupid son got in trouble, that’s his own fault. He’s a grown adult, sort of. You hadn’t even met him and he was already ruining your life, and he was going to be your step brother? Oh how you wished the universe would swallow you up now.

You finish packing up your room, looking around it one more time with a frown. You grew up in this room and now you had to say goodbye, it was a nightmare. Sighing you go around your room making sure you didn’t miss a single thing before you grab the last box and carry it out to the moving truck. You set the box down before climbing up and maneuvering it around to go against the others before jumping back down.

“All set?” Your mom asked as she walked out of the house, closing the door behind her. “I went around a few times to make sure we got everything so if you’re ready we can go.”

“Yup, I have everything.” You say with your arms crossed.

“Trust me, you’ll love California sweetie, promise.” She kisses your temple and you just huff before looking at your old house one more time, your eyes watering before you get into the moving truck with your mom not at all ready for the long trip ahead of you.

Plopping down on your bed with a sigh you look around your new room. Your mom and you had got here about a few days ago and you finally finished unpacking all your stuff well at least for your room. You still had your bathroom stuff but you fully couldn’t be bothered with that at this moment.

A knock on the door frame has you sitting up to see your moms boyfriend or well, fiancé standing there with a big smile on his face. It was hard to dislike this man or even be mad about this move when he’s been so nice and super welcoming. He even let you paint your new room baby pink just like your old room so you would feel a little more at home. It somewhat worked.

“All settled in kiddo?” He asked. You smile and nod your head.

“I am, thanks.” You say.

“Good, how are you liking the room?” He asked, leaning against the door frame.

“It’s bigger than my old room so that’s a plus.” You say. “I’ll get used to it.”

“Take your time, I understand how you’re feeling. I had to move a lot when I was younger. But I really am happy to have you and your mom here and I can’t wait for you both to meet Nicholas.” He smiles.

“Can’t wait either.” You slightly lied, of course you wanted to meet your soon to be step brother but after your mom mentioned him getting in trouble and almost being kicked out of school you also were not looking forward to it.

“He’ll be home this weekend so you’ll get to meet him then, I’m sure you two will get along really well.” With that he walks away and you slightly shake your head. There was no way you and him would get along. You didn’t get in trouble, you didn’t do much of anything at all. Some would say you’re a nerd, some would say you’re boring and some would say you’re a prude. You weren’t, surprisingly, you had your first boyfriend at seventeen and he was the reason you were able to go to college, not a virgin. Granted you did follow the crowd a little but you were young, and you don’t regret it, not fully at least. And it was that one time but you wouldn’t call yourself a prude. You get up and walk over to your door, closing it, once again plopping down on your bed. This weekend should be eventful.

A knock on the bathroom door startles you while you shower, peaking your head out a little as you wait for someone to speak.

“Sweetie, are you almost done? Nicholas is here.” Your mom says on the other side and you sigh in relief.

“Yes mom, I’ll be down in like twenty minutes.” You say. She says okay then leaves. You huff as you finish your shower and turn it off, wrapping the towel around yourself, wiping away the fog on the mirror, looking at yourself for a moment before reaching for your favorite lotion and moisturizing your skin to keep it nice and soft. You set it down and walk over to the door and open it, bumping into something hard or well someone hard.

“Whoa, sorry about that. You okay?” A deep voice fills your ears and you look up to see who you assume is Nicholas standing in front of you. Holy fuck he was hot!

“Uh, y-yeah I’m good.” You stutter a little. Oh no, oh no, oh no!

“Good, uh your mom asked me to come and check on you.” He says, looking you up and down, a slight smirk forming on his face. Did he just check you out? No, no way, he just looked at you for a moment. You cleared your throat.

“Oh, uh I told her I would be down soon, I just need to get dressed.” You say looking at him. He had a fucking killer jawline, geez.

“I’ll let her know,” He looks you up and down again. “I’m Nicholas by the way, it’s nice to finally meet you, sis.” And with that he walks away and down the steps. ‘Sis’ of course, because hello he was going to become your step brother once your parents got married and here you were thinking he was hot. You needed to get a grip. You quickly go to your room and get dressed, drying your hair a little before finally making your way downstairs.

“There she is! Hey kiddo, Nicholas said you guys finally introduced yourselves.” Nicholas’ dad says.

“Yeah, we did.” You say softly.

“Good! Well come on, I just finished barbequing, let’s eat!” You all head out to the back porch and sit down, your mom and Nichola’s dad on one side and you and Nicholas across from them. You all start plating your food, in silence before your mom speaks.

“How are classes going Nicholas?” She asked.

“Oh they’re going well! But I’ll admit I’m already ready for the semester to be over, miss being home.” He says and your mom laughs a little.

“I don’t doubt it.” She says. Nicholas then turns to you with a smirk on his face again.

“Your mom tells me you’ll be starting classes next week.” Nicholas says and your brows furrow a little as you look at your mom.

“It wasn’t easy but I managed to get you enrolled for this semester so you wouldn’t have to miss any more classes. Your mom had told me before how much you care about your studies so I wanted to make sure you weren’t behind.” Your eyes widen a little and a smile forms on your face as you get up and go over to Nicholas’ dad and hug him tightly.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” You squeal a little and he laughs.

“It’s no problem, really, and I’m sure Nicholas would have no problem showing you around campus, right son?” He turns to Nicholas as you sit down.

“No of course not, I would gladly show my new sister around.” He says and looks at you. Maybe this move wasn’t that bad and maybe you had judged Nicholas too harshly before meeting him, he was sweet.

Wrong, wrong, wrong you were so fucking wrong. He wasn’t sweet. He was annoying, rude, and cocky. You had taken his advice and stuck by his side when at the university and it went well for the most part. Then of course you made friends and didn’t need him anymore, I mean you saw him and sometimes he would have you come hang in his dorm but you mainly stuck with your new friends. But then came the wedding and the second he officially became your step brother he became your nightmare. He was always pushing your buttons and getting under your skin, and you noticed he would sometimes subtly flirt with you. It was wrong, you knew it was wrong but you never catch yourself stopping him, and sometimes you couldn’t help but flirt back. But that never changed a thing in your mind, he was still an asshole.

“Nicholas! You have been in there for almost an hour now, what could you possibly be doing?” You shout as you pound on the bathroom door. You had been waiting for him to finish so you could go to the bathroom but of course he had gotten in there before you and he was taking his sweet ass time. “Nick!”

“Would you fucking chill, its all yours little sis.” He says when he opens the door, standing there in just his towel. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his muscular body, water still dripping down it. Fuck, you quickly looked up and he had a smirk on his face and you rolled your eyes. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“Get a grip.” You snap.

“You’re the one staring.” He remains smirking as he walks past you, nudging your chin with his knuckle a little as he walks to his room, closing his door. You let out an annoyed groan as you step into the shower, slamming the door closed.

Once you were done you made your way downstairs expecting to see your parents downstairs but you only saw Nicholas, sitting at the bar, eating a bowl of cereal. “Mom and dad are out for the day so it’s just you and me.”

“Oh joy.” You say sarcastically walking to the pantry to get your cereal. You grab the box, realizing how light it was, opening it up to see it’s empty. You look up at Nicholas and see he was eating your cereal.

“Oops.” He looks at you smugly and you just storm over to the trash and throw the empty box away.

“How hard was that to do? And thanks for eating the last of my cereal.” You huff.

“It’s in the pantry, it’s for everyone, don't be a spoiled brat.” He says.

“I am not a spoiled brat!” You snap.

“You so are, any time you don’t get your way or something you want isn’t available you borderline throw a fit. You always get your way, well for the most part so you act like this, aka a spoiled brat.” He says taking another bite of his cereal as he looks at you.

“That is not even close to true. Just because we have known each other for a few months does not mean you know me so well. I am not a spoiled brat!” You shout.

“You know what you need? You need to get laid. Maybe someone who will put you in your fucking place. Is that why you’re also so uptight? Need to get fucked?” He asked, taking the last bite of his cereal before he drank the milk. He gets up and walks over to the sink to rinse his bowl out.

“Excuse me? Fuck you, you need to, to-” He cuts you off before you could even finish by turning around and pinning you to the counter behind you.

“You have such a mouth on you. Would you like your big brother to put it to better use, hmm?” He says huskily, your body instantly becoming covered in chills.

“W-what?” You ask him.

“You heard me. Need me to shove my cock down that throat to get rid of that mouthy attitude?” He asked. Of all the times he said things to you and hit on you, never once did he say things like that. He was becoming more bold.

“Nicholas…that’s not appropriate.” You say softly, kind of cursing yourself in your head for that being the only thing you could say. He looks at you for a moment before he chuckles, making your brows furrow.

“Relax little sis, I didn’t mean it, don’t get your panties in such a twist hmm?” He says with a smirk and you instantly become flustered.

“You’re a dick.” You say. You just grab a couple granola bars, wanting to get away from him.

“Mmm and you really do need to get laid, princess, maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight.” He says. You roll as you start to walk away. “My offer still stands by the way.” You freeze in your spot. “Could fix that filthy mouth by shoving my cock down your throat.”

“You’re disgusting.” You snap.

“I know you would like it. I see the way you look at me. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, we are only siblings by marriage you know.” You turn to look at him and you can tell by the look on his face he was serious. You quickly head up the stairs and into your room, closing the door and locking it before you lean against it. Was this a dream? This had to be right? I mean you really couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him but again, he was your step brother and yes you guys were only siblings by marriage but it was still wrong, right? Yes, yes it was still wrong.

This went on for days, which wasn’t a lot of time but to you it felt like months already. Nicholas and you were constantly fighting and him making sexual comments about you that left you flustered and running to your room to hide from him. Thankfully with your parents around it wasn’t too bad but he still managed. But of course now would be a time that your parents would be going out of town for a week for a business trip and since you were still on vacation you would be home alone with Nicholas, yay.

“Can’t I just come with?” You ask your parents as you sit on their bed as they start packing their things. Your step father laughs a little.

“Wish you could kiddo, it’s only a week. Besides Nick mentioned that he has some things planned for you two, some sibling bonding as he stated.” He says coming over to you and kisses the top of your head. “Look I know Nicholas can be a bit much but I promise you, you’ll have a great time with him okay? But you call me if he does anything, I’ll put him in check, he may be in his twenties but he’s still my son.”

“Thanks dad.” You say softly as you look down. You could only imagine what he had planned.

You say your goodbyes to your parents along with Nicholas before he shuts the front door and turns to look at you. “Alright, here’s how tonight is going to go, I’m having a few people over and you’re going to stay up in your room and stay out of our way, got it?”

“Excuse me? You can’t tell me what to do Nicholas.” You say.

“I’m older, and as of right now, the man of the house.” He says crossing his arms and you can’t help but laugh.

“First of all you’re older by three years, I’m an adult and second of all you are not the man of the house so please get a grip.” You tell him.

“Just stay out of our way okay?” He says.

“Whatever, just keep your party down, I have some assignments I need to work on.” You say.

“You’re doing school work, on vacation?” He asked before he laughed.

“Yes I am and there is nothing wrong with that.” You huff before you storm up to your room and slam the door shut. This week was going to drag on, you just knew it was.

You had just finished your second assignment, smiling as you saved it to send to your professor later. You were thankful that Nicholas had kept it down and he had even brought you dinner earlier. It was a bit odd to see him being nice while your parents weren’t around but you just let it be. You took a quick shower and did your skincare routine before you went to your room throwing on your light pink robe and sitting at your vanity to brush and blow dry your hair. You looked around your room in the mirror, a soft smile on your face. As much as you didn’t want to accept it, this had become your home and this room became your new comfort just like your childhood room. You guess your mom getting remarried wasn’t that big of a deal after all. Once your hair was dry you turned your blow dryer off and set it down, brushing through your hair a few more times before setting the brush down. You grabbed your Chanel perfume and did a couple spritz on yourself when all of a sudden you heard a groan. Your brows furrow a little as you set the bottle down, tuning in as you wait to hear it again.

“Just like that.” Your eyes widen as you hear Nicholas' husky voice on the other side of the wall. “Fuck, such a good girl for me aren’t you?” You knew you should have stopped listening, put some headphones in or shit even letting him know you could hear him but you remained in your spot at your vanity, leaning closer a little. You had never noticed before when you sat here how much you could hear him but in this moment, it was as if he was in the damn room with you, or well almost.

His loud groans filled your ears and as you continued leaning in you could faintly hear some wet sounds. Oh, oh, oh!

“That’s it, a little deeper, fuuuuck, good girl taking my cock down your pretty little throat so well.” You hear the girl gag a little and Nicholas groans again. “Mmm stay still baby.” You finally get up, stepping past your vanity as you press your ear against the wall, hearing rapid thrusting along with a lot of gagging and it that was all it took to know he was fucking her throat.

“Look at you, taking this shit like a champ, keep being a good girl like this and you’ll get my cock in that tight little pussy in no time.” It was then you realized you were getting turned on and even though you couldn’t see you could feel your cheeks becoming hot as you quickly back up, bumping into your vanity and knocking a few things over and well causing the mirror to hit the wall slightly. You freeze for a moment, listening for any sign that he heard anything but all you could hear was him still fucking the mystery girls throat. You quickly but quietly get to your bed and climb onto it grabbing your headphones and turning on some music to drown out the sounds.

After a while you took your headphones off, listening for any sounds but you heard none. You laid in your bed, looking at the ceiling, still fully turned on. You couldn’t believe you had got so turned on by hearing your step brother getting his dick sucked. You grabbed your phone and looked at the time, it was too late to take a shower and since the house seemed silent you knew Nicholas had to be asleep. You know what? Fuck it. You pull up your little sleeping nightgown up and over your boobs, gasping softly as the cold air hits your nipples making them hard. You bring your hands and start squeeze your boobs a little before you start to pinch and pull at your nipples, moaning softly as your eyes flutter closed. You pinch your nipples a little harder making you let out a little whimper, not thinking you would really like it but wanting to give it a try and you could feel your pussy become more wet.

“Mmm.” You moan a little as your hands start to travel down your body getting closer to your pussy making it clench around nothing in excitement. Slowly as you continue to get lost in the pleasure, teasing yourself a little, images of Nicholas doing this to you flood your mind. You couldn’t help it, you may have not heard a lot but it was still enough for you. You finally slip your hand into your underwear and slip two fingers into yourself easily.

“Nicholas.” You breathe out quietly, trying not to make too much noise. You thrust your fingers in and out softly, the sound of your own wetness filling your ears making your cheeks get hot again as you feel how turned on you got. Your free hand continues playing with your nipples, working yourself up even more. A semi loud moan slips past your lips but in this moment you did not care you just wanted to cum. And Nicholas had said before that he was a heavy sleeper so you weren’t too worried about it.

You curl your fingers up, hitting that sweet spot inside of you making you let out another semi loud moan, fully not realizing how loud it actually was. As you’re still lost in your pleasure, Nicholas is laying back on his bed, scrolling through his phone when he hears a soft moan, lifting his head up before he hears another and a smirk forms on his face. He knew you were listening earlier when he heard your vanity hit the wall and some stuff fell over. He was glad you could hear him, he wanted you to hear him, and from what he was currently hearing it turned you on. He quietly gets out of bed and walks over to the wall, pressing his ear against it where he could faintly hear you getting yourself off. He could hear all your moans and whimpers and the sound of your wet pussy. He knew you were getting closer as your moans got a bit louder and your whimpers got a bit needier.

“That’s it princess, cum for your big brother.” He whispers to himself.

“Nicholas!” You gasp out as you cum and Nicholas’ smirk grew at the sound of his name falling from your lips and he knew right then and there he had you. He makes his way over to his bed when he no longer hears anything, getting comfortable.

“Sweet dreams little sister.” He whispers before closing his eyes.

taglist: @hoffmansgirl @iamsebastiansstan @nicholaschavezslut69 @nicholaslut

[thatoneautisticshark]

Would you perchance write something about either Price or Ghost (or both, author's choice 🫡) coming out as trans to the rest of the team? I love soft little stories where a character carefully pick the right time to reveal that they weren't always a man or the completely unapologetic reveal of top surgery scars without any shame whatsoever. I also love me some lovey dovey 141 boys finding out new things about each other and only becoming closer because of it ♥️

Heheheh. Yes yup absoulutely I love this. THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! I ADORE GETTING THEM!

Ghost leaned against the wall debating it. He'd been working with the 141 for three years now. He really should come out to them.

Not just because he did trust them and wanted the most important people in his life to know him, truly know him.

But he also felt is was... probably a necessary thing to inform them of. He'd hate to be like injured on his chest and they go to treat it, and tits.

He sat back, chewing on his lip as he debated it.

He didn't get to debate it for long because Johnny noticed something was up. "Ghos' ye good?"

Ghost half considered just nodding and letting that be the end of it, but he was also being a pussy. "Uh... yeah just... just something ay should tell you guys... probably."

And just like that he had three sets of eyes on him. And was also regretting his decision, somewhat considering exiting via the window.

"I'm trans. Like born... a girl in the wrong body... but I'm a guy."

Silence.

Shit shit shit.

Soap spoke up "Damn noice."

Ghost blinked at him. That was it? No transphobia, or being an arse or anythin? Just... noice?

Gaz stared at him intently for a second.."So have you had the titty chop? Because like... I cannot believe you were born female. Obviously you were meant to be a guy."

Ghost quickly blinked back the years before answering... "Uhm.. yeah .... No I haven't... they were just small so I built up the muscle to make em look like pecs"

The scot whistled "Damn LT! Dedication!" He declared high fiving the brit.

Ghost nodded glancing over at Price who hadn't said a word. "Uhm... sir?"

Price glanced up blinking. "yeah... sorry just .. You know what can't be fucked to word it." The older then pulled his shirt off, gesturing at the scars under his pecs "I am also.. uh.. trans"

Well this was going a shit tonne better then Simon was expecting. He didn't even know why he was worried. It was his team.

Hope this is what you wanted anon!! I couldn't pick so you got both!!