#and then the kinds of questions and comments he would come out with. you wondered how THAT got through the filter

[abandoned-as-mustard]

my latest hyperfixation: armchair diagnosing my peers. oh, you thought you could just exist around me. sorry. here's a nice seat on this round disk, it's totally not a petri dish or anything. can you hear electricity?

[alisonwritesimagines]

Count On Mom ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: The kids try to get Bruce to get away from the computer. Luckily, there is always one person who can take his mind out of anything including Batman duties. You.

Author’s Note: Haven't posted much in a while and I kept seeing a lot of Batfamily stuff at the last convention I went to so here we go!

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: boob flashing, hint to smut

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Three of the batkids stared at their adoptive father as he had been stuck in front of the screen in the Batcave. None of the moved as they watched Bruce in some kind of trance.

“How long since he moved?” Dick asked Cassandra and Jason.

“A day,” Cassandra monotonous answered.

“I think he blinked a minute ago, does that count?” Jason asked.

“It’s official. Alfred called it. He said he’ll bake cookies if we can get Bruce to stop working,” Duke said as he walked into the batcave.

"Step aside," Jason said as he cracked his knuckles. "This will be over in no time."

As the kids began to try to get Bruce to move away, no effort was made to moving Bruce.

"I got an idea," Dick said as he took out his phone.

You felt your phone ring, making you put the groceries down onto the kitchen island so you could answer your phone. You had just gone to the store to grab some ingredients to make dinner for tomorrow's dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom! Are you and Damien almost done with grocery shopping yet?”

“We just got home. Why?”

“We’re trying to pry Bruce off of the computer in the Batcave and Alfred said he’d make us cookies if we get him away from the screen.”

“I’m on my way,” you say with a chuckle at the end.

"Already began to bake the cookies. I know you'll be able to get him away," Alfred told you.

"Of course I can. That's my superpower in this family," you joked.

When you got to the Batcave, you saw your husband tiredly staring at the screen in front of him. The dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep made you upset but you knew there was one thing you could do that would always get his attention.

"Aw my poor husband," you say.

"You got this mom?" Jason asked you.

“Step aside kids and close your eyes,” you tell them as you walked over to your husband.

“What are you going to do mom?” Dick as as he covered his eyes. The rest of the kids quickly covered their eyes to avoid to see what you were going to do.

You climbed onto Bruce’s lap before lifting both your shirt and bra in front of him. Bruce quickly snapped out of his daze before looking up at you with a smile.

“Tempting me my love?”

“Maybe,” you smile as you pulled your shirt and bra down.

“Let me have my cookies and you can have me,” you whispered into his ears as you stood up.

“Okay kids. Enjoy Alfred’s cookies,” you say as you headed out.

The moment the kids uncovered their eyes, they watched in shock as Bruce already began to make his way towards you.

“Leave it to mom for getting Bruce to do anything other than his Batman duties,” Jason said.

"I wonder how she does it," Duke says out loud.

"Because dad's got it bad for mom," Dick tells him.

By the time Bruce got to you, you were eating your chocolate chip cookies that Alfred had made with Damien. You winked at your husband as you kissed Damien’s head.

“Alfred, why don’t you and the kids go out for a bit? It’s lovely outside,” you tell him.

“Of course,” Alfred said before walking over to get the rest of the kids. You began to head upstairs to your room, knowing that you had stirred something in Bruce.

“You coming Bruce?” You called out. You smirked as you heard Bruce’s fastened footsteps.

You let out a laugh as you felt him pick you up. You held onto him as he rushed over to the bedroom.

“I owe you some alone time don’t I?” Bruce asked you with a smile.

“Yes you do. Now, while everyone is out of the house, why don’t you make it up to me?” You asked him.

“I plan to," Bruce said before kissing you passionately.

[simjaexy]

HELLO BEAUTIFUL I saw the MV of boxer enha AND LEMME TELL YOU BOXER SUNGHOON 😩 so I was wondering if you can make a drabble of Boxer! Sunghoon and reader and they get in to A LOT of sexy stuff? 😚 ALSO like a mean Dom Sunghoon? <3

Have a nice day pretty

Pairing ⇀ Boxer! Park Sunghoon x (F) Reader

Synopsis ⇀ You decided to visit Sunghoon at his boxing practice. But upon seeing him practice, you couldn’t help but feel a sexual way watching him practicing so focused and determined. So what happens when you decide to tease him while he’s practicing?

Genre ⇀ Pure Smut

Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cursing, Sunghoon and reader are both a tease, Making out, Mean Dom! Sunghoon x Sub! Reader, Blowjob, Eating out, Humiliation, Overstimulation (f), Receiving (m&f), Doggy style, No protection (wrap it up), Cum swallowing, Multiple orgasms, Hickeys, Crying, Biting, Semi-public sex, Rough sex, Name calling (slut, good girl, etc.), Fingering, lmk if i missed anything!

W.c ⇀ 2.1k

A/n ⇀ You don’t even ask twice for that because I’m LIVING for Boxer Sunghoon. Kind of made it longer than I anticipated but I hope it meets your standards bb. If you would like to be on the perm tag list click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, and etc! Not proofread!

You arrived at Sunghoons boxing gym, the air thick with the sounds of fists hitting punching bags and the occasional grunts of other men there. The rhythmic thudding of gloves against leather filled the room. You decided to pay Sunghoon a visit at his practice matches. It wasn’t everyday you get to see him in action.

As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately started searching for Sunghoon. And when you finally saw him, in the middle of the ring, his body glistening with sweat, muscles rippling under his tank top, focus etched deeply into his brow. He moved with precision and power. His focus was unbreakable, each punch thrown with skill and intensity. You assumed he didn’t noticed you with how focused he was.

You couldn't help but admire him, his dedication and strength evident in every movement. That’s when he finally glanced up and saw you standing there, a smile spreading across his face. He glanced back at the guy who he was practicing with, giving a him a dab before quickly making his way over to you, his eyes lighting up with happiness.

"Hey, you," He said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss, "Didn’t think you would actually make it."

You gave him a teasing smile, your heart skipping a beat at the brief but sweet gesture, “Wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, you promised you’d take me out to dinner after.”

Sunghoon gave you a little chuckle, “Of course pretty. Just give me a few more minutes.” He spoke, his voice low. You felt slickness between your legs and mentally cursed yourself for feeling sexual i a public area.

But then again, you couldn’t help yourself with the way he stares at you, as if he wanted the other men know that he owns you. Sunghoon gave one last look at you, sending a wink before heading back to the ring, his focus shifting back to his training.

You watched him, mesmerized by the way he moved, each punch and dodge executed with perfect form. You didn’t notice the gym started to empty out, the sounds of practice gradually fading as people left for the day.

With the gym now almost empty, you decided to have a little fun. You walked over to the edge of the ring, leaning against the ropes as you called out to him, "Hey, champ, need a break?"

Sunghoon looked over at you, a playful smirk on his face, he knew exactly what you were trying to do, “Are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe," you replied, your tone teasing, "Or maybe I just want to see if you can handle a little distraction."

He chuckled, stepping out of the ring and walking over to you, "Oh, I can handle it. The question is, can you?"

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across your face, "Why don't you come find out?"

Sunghoon closed the distance between you, his eyes locked on yours. You leaned in, feeling hit hot breath fanning your lips. But just as your lips were about to touch, he smirked and gently pushed you back.

"Not so fast," He teased, his voice low, "I've still got some training to do."

You stood there, stunned. What the fuck? As he turned and walked back to the ring. He glanced over his shoulder with a wink, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You hated when he did that, "Patience, love," He said, before resuming his practice, leaving you both flustered and confused.

You watched him with a pout on your unkissed lips. But you couldn’t help but feel like getting him back. Besides, he deserves it right. You knew Sunghoon like the back of your hand, it’ll be easy getting him all hot and bothered.

After a few minutes, you decided to turn up the heat. You slowly took off your jacket, letting it drop to the floor, "Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?" You asked, your voice carrying a hint of innocence.

Sunghoon didn't look at you, but he nodded, his focus still on his training, “Yeah, it's pretty warm. The guys don’t really like the cold here."

You frowned not seeing him look at you. That’s when you suddenly got an idea and grinned, deciding to take it a step further. You tucked your shirt up a bit, revealing your stomach, just enough to catch his attention, "Hey, Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

This time, he stopped mid-punch and turned to look at you. His eyes widened seeing the sight of you. Jacket on the floor with you leaning backwards with your stomach peaking out. One more tuck up then your bra would be in view. A pink dust spread across his cheeks as he took in the thought of you like that. It was quiet for a few seconds before he snapped and made eye contact with you.

"What... what is it?" He stammered, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him, "Oh, nothing important. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention."

Sunghoon shook his head, a huff coming out, as if he was controlling himself. As if he doesn’t wanna fall for your tricks, “You definitely have my attention now," He admits.

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of pride, “Well I don’t think I need it anymore. You can go back to practicing.” You mumbled, but Sunghoon heard you. He nodded, knowing that if he spoke his voice would definitely sound needy. So, he continued practicing once again.

You decided to unclip your bra and take it off, also dropping that on the floor. Your perky nipples in clear view. You felt the room thicken within seconds. You slowly led your hand towards your cloth core, rubbing your wet folds, letting out a soft moan.

Sunghoon let out a pained groan and rubbed his neck, probably because he dodged so many punches from the other guy earlier. That's when he looked over at you and saw you rubbing your folds and fiddling with your perky nipples, letting out pitiful moans. Your eyes were closed, clearly not noticing him stopping and staring right at you.

The sight in front of him definitely made him rock hard. Fuck. Finally, without warning, Sunghoon ripped off his gloves and tossed them to the ground. His sudden movement startled you, and before you could react, he was striding towards you with a lustful hard look in his eyes. Your heart raced as he closed the distance between you in a matter of seconds.

His hands found your waist, and he pulled you against him with a roughness that took your breath away. Before you could utter a word, his lips crashed into yours, demanding and intense. The kiss was fierce, filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire he'd been holding back.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss. You let out a whimper feeling one of his legs push in between yours.

You immediately began grinding down, feeling your core brush against your underwear. It felt so good. Sunghoon gripped one of your breasts, squeezing them harshly. You broke the kiss and let out a loud moan.

You didn’t have time to react when Sunghoon dragged you to a mat that was laying down not far from you guys. He pushed you down on the mat, your back hitting it roughly. You let out a pained whimper before feeling Sunghoon get on top you.

“You wanna fucking act like a slut? Bothering me while I’m practicing for a big match.” He snapped. You gave him an innocent smile, your eyes fluttering. Fuck, you really like pissing him off. He didn’t waste any time sucking on your neck, hickeys forming. You squirmed and let out a mewl when he bit down.

“H-Hoonie- hic!- hurts!” You cried out. Sunghoon paid no mind to you. This is what you wanted right? He licked the bite mark gently before lifting his head up again. You felt intimidated by his intense gaze, looking away in humiliation, but Sunghoon was having any of that. He forcefully grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.

“If you wanna get fucked good then you’re gonna suck my dick.” He growled. You bit your lip and with teary eyes, you nodded. You didn’t waste a second, pulling down his sweats to see his cloth dick. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his dick springing free, slapping his stomach.

You softly wrapped your hands around it, stroking it lazily. Sunghoon watched you with an unreadable expression, almost as if he was bored. So, you opened your mouth, granting him full access to your mouth and putting his dick in. You let in a moan feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your face close to his pubic hair.

Sunghoon didn’t give a warning when he suddenly gripped your hair and took his dick out and pushed back in making you gag. Although you were slapping his thigh, he continued to thrust inside your mouth at a rough pace. You felt tears gather in your eyes again. Sunghoon loved it.

You heard his groans and curses and felt his dick twitch inside your mouth, indicating he was close. He gave out three more thrust before cumming deep in your throat. Sunghoon let out a hiss, taking his dick out of your mouth.

“Open.” He demanded. You opened your mouth, showing him you swallowed everything. He gave you a soft smile and rubbed your head, “Good girl.”

You couldn’t speak when he suddenly pushed you back down making you yelp. He slid off your shorts and underwear revealing your wet pussy. He licked his lips, his eyes gazing with lust. Before he could do anything, you held his head, “Shit, wait Sunghoon. W-We’re in public.” You whispered. Sunghoon paused and stared at you.

“You now noticed that after you sucked me off?” He said. You whined and Sunghoon sighed. He can’t say no to you, “I’ll make it fast.” He added. Besides, he really wanted to taste your sweet pussy.

He didn’t wanna hear you say anymore and flicked his tongue against your bud. You covered your mouth, but your moan was still heard. Sunghoon let out an ‘hmm’ tasting your sweet pussy. He noticed you covering your mouth and gave you a slap on your thigh. You stared at him dazed, “I wanna hear you.” He said.

You nodded and uncovered your mouth, feeling too drunk off of pleasure to say no. He then continued to lick your pussy. He sucked on your bud before licking your hole. You let out sighs and pants when he all of a sudden stuck a finger inside you while he was suckling on your bud.

“Oh god! s’good!” You moaned. You felt saliva dripping down your lips, but didn’t care to wipe it off. Sunghoon hums vibrated against your pussy and that’s when you felt your orgasm coming.

“Gonna cum! Cumming-“ You let out one last time before coming undone on Sunghoon tongue. He licked your juices, taking his finger out. You panted shaky and weak.

Sunghoon flipped you over, aligning his dick at your entrance. He slowly pushed in, making you both moan in unison. You squirmed under him, feeling overstimulated. Sunghoon chuckled, “Looks like my good girl can’t take it.”

You shook your head, “No! I-I can. Please Sunghoon- fuck me!” You begged. Sunghoon's eyes turned dark. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening when you felt him push deep inside you, knocking the air out of you.

The sound of loud skin slapping echoed in the gym. Someone had to have heard you guys. You let out loud moans and whimpers, feeling him so deep in you. Both of your bodies sticky with sweat. God the smell of sex was unbearable.

Sunghoon gripped your waist hard. He knows they’ll be bruised later on, and he fucking loves it. You arch your back more, giving Sunghoon even deeper access if it was even possible. His dick felt too good in you. It’s like your pussy was made for him.

You felt your orgasm coming, “H-Hoonie m’gonna cum again- ah!” You screamed, your orgasm crashing. Sunghoon threw his head back and came seconds later, his cum spurting inside. You felt so full.

He took his now soft dick out and pulled up his sweatpants and boxers. He helped you up and gave you a towel so you can fix yourself up. After you were done you noticed Sunghoon already having his bag in his hand. You smiled at him softly. Sunghoon smiled back, feeling his heart race. He loved your afterglow.

You both walked out the gym, hand in hand. You didn’t know gym sex was something you wanna plan on doing again, but when Sunghoon kisses your hand gently and gives you a loving look, who are you to complain?

taglist: @laylasbunbunny @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @whateverhoon @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie @sweetshinypuppy @moonpri @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @jayjw16enxp @aanniikkaa @prkhoonlvr @devi1d0ppi0 @enhygene @talyaxia

[itsnesss]

hello! could you write a hwang junho x reader where he finds out that they were asked to join the games? like he discovers the card and freaks out over it? 🫡

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, emotional content, themes of concern and vulnerability, soft romantic moments, mentions of risk and danger

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the television is a distant murmur as you get lost in your thoughts. The card weighs on you, but something inside you urges you to ignore the warnings. The desire to change, to escape the monotony of your life, is stronger than any doubt. The opportunity is there, within your reach, and you know you could take it. But what if something goes wrong? The doubt consumes you.

Suddenly, you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. You know it’s him, Jun-ho.

You wonder what he's doing around here, but you don't have time to think too much about it. You’ve barely noticed him until now, but there's something strange about his presence in the last few days. He watches you constantly, as if he's waiting for something to happen.

You hear his footsteps approaching, and when he enters the room, his gaze goes directly to the coffee table where, unknowingly, the card has been left visible. The tension in the air is palpable. You don’t dare move it; you don’t want him to ask, but he does.

"What is this?" he says, his voice so low you can barely hear it. His eyes fix on the card, but his hands stay at his sides, as if he’s avoiding touching it.

"Where did you get this from? Who gave it to you?" His voice hardens, but there's also a kind of desperation you hadn’t noticed before.

Your heart skips a beat. You know you’ve left it in plain sight by mistake, but you didn’t expect him to react like this. Something’s not right, and his gaze makes that clear. The way his jaw tightens and the worry in his eyes makes you hesitate for a moment. You question if you really know what you’re about to do.

"You don’t have to worry about it," you respond, trying to downplay it, but your voice trembles. You don’t even believe yourself. You’re trying to act strong, but you know deep down that something feels vulnerable.

"Yes, yes, I have to worry," he responds firmly, stepping a little closer. The anxiety in his expression is palpable, as if he’s about to explode. "This is not a game. You don’t know what’s behind that card. You’re getting into something you can’t control."

You, however, can’t let him influence you. There’s something inside you telling you that this is your chance, that you can’t let it slip away so easily. Life has been dragging you through the same routine, and this could be the change you’ve been needing. Why not try it? If you could escape all this, maybe you could finally feel free, maybe you could be something else, something different.

"I don’t understand why you care so much," you say with a forced smile, trying to brush off the situation. You don’t want him to see how affected you are by his gaze, by his concern. You need to have control, at least a little. "I’m not a child, I can take care of myself."

The silence between the two of you grows dense. He looks at you as if he’s trying to read what’s going on in your mind, but finally, he steps toward you and, with a deep sigh, takes your hands in his. His fingers, warm and firm, make you feel a small knot in your stomach. It’s strange how such a simple physical touch can make your thoughts dissolve, how suddenly you feel so vulnerable.

"I’m just asking for myself," he says softly, his voice much gentler now, but full of an emotion you can’t quite identify. His expression is laden with sincerity, something you’ve never seen from him before. "Don’t do it. Promise me. I don’t want you to go into that, I don’t want to lose you."

His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, you feel something change in the air. It’s as if, for an instant, the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and him, in that small bubble of silence. His plea resonates in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if you’re making the right decision. His concern is palpable, and for a moment, you question if maybe he knows something you don’t understand yet. It’s so hard to comprehend why he cares so much, why now it seems like the only right option is to follow his advice.

And the worst part is that, for the first time, you doubt your own desires.

"If you need money, I’ll help you," he adds with an unexpected softness, as if he’s willing to do anything to keep you from making that decision. As if it’s not just an attempt to stop you from entering the game, but a genuine desire to protect you, to offer you something better than that risk. "Just promise me. Please."

He says it with such tenderness that you almost crumble. His words, so sincere, pierce you like a knife, and for a moment, you forget about the card, the game, everything that had drawn you to that decision. It’s just him, his gaze, and that glimmer of hope that seems to want to reach you.

It’s strange how, in that instant, everything that had been noise and chaos in your head becomes quiet. You feel the weight of his plea in the air, the vulnerability of his confession, as if he’s offering you his trust without reservation. Why does he care so much about what you think? Why is he so desperate to save you?

You remain silent for a moment, looking into his eyes. You feel the weight of the card in your pocket, but now, in his presence, it doesn’t seem as tempting as it did before. The game, the opportunity, all seem insignificant compared to what you’re feeling now, as you look at him. It’s not just that he’s asking you to stay away from danger; it’s as if, in some way, he’s asking you to believe in him, to believe in something beyond what you want. And the worst part is that it’s becoming hard not to believe.

Without thinking, you step a little closer to him, almost as if it were a reflex, and before you can process it, he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, full of an unexpected tenderness, as if he’s putting all his hope into that gesture, as if he’s asking you to understand him without words. The kiss is short, but it speaks volumes, and when he pulls away, your hearts beat together, intertwined in a connection you didn’t expect, but somehow, you understand. He’s reached you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

"Promise me," he says softly, as if he already knows he’s gotten to your heart, as if he’s already gotten what he wanted.

You remain silent for a moment, struggling with your own thoughts. The card is still there, close to you, but now, in his presence, you can’t ignore what really matters. His concern, his sweetness, his sincerity... all of that makes you question what you once desired with such fervor.

Finally, you take a deep breath, as if letting go of everything you’ve been holding inside. You look Jun-ho in the eyes, and with a sigh, you feel the weight on your chest lighten.

"I promise," you respond finally, your voice barely audible, but full of certainty. And for the first time in a long time, you feel that the most important decision you’ve made is the right one.

[crushpunky]

actress!reader reveals what’s on her phone

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based loosely on the glamour interview, screen time :)

“Hello, Glamour, I’m y/n y/ln and today we are going to be digging through my phone!” Y/n sang, greeting the camera with a grin!

What’s your screen time?

“Oh my god…” Y/n groaned, running a hand down her face. “4 hours and 35 minutes.”

“That’s not too bad!” The interviewer said with a sympathetic giggle.

“Well that’s good to hear.” Y/n chuckled, swiping through her phone.

What’s the story behind your lock screen?

“Awww, it’s very cute.” Y/n said, her cheeks flushing slightly as a grin spread across her face before she held her phone up to the camera:

“So it’s a picture of me, my wonderful husband, Drew, and our dog Charleston.” Y/n couldn’t help but continue to smile at the photo and the memory of the evening. “This is at a beach in… somewhere in South Carolina, I’m not giving away our secret spot. But yeah, I think it was taken by one of Drew’s sisters and it’s just such a good memory of me and my favorite person… and Drew too.”

Y/n teased as she swiped into her phone for the next question.

How about a little tour of your camera roll?

“Ooh it’s about 90% photos of Charleston.” Y/n giggled as she scrolled through her camera roll:

“Well, we’ve got some photos from set, of course, but I can’t share those.” Y/n explained. “Lots of my friends and their dogs, Drew being a goof, some outfit photos… nothing too crazy.”

“The last picture of Drew?” The interviewer asked, referring to the meme of him she had saved on her phone:

“Oh my god I forgot I had that!” Y/n giggled, genuinely tickled by the meme her and Madelyn had stumbled across. “That’s Drew as Glinda from Wicked, of course. Doesn’t he just look so beautiful?”

Y/n quirked her brows, smiling into the camera as she held up the meme.

You’re very honest about your love of Tik Tok, would you mind sharing some of your favorites?

“We’re gonna have to dig deep into the archives… the personal collection.” Y/n teased, scrolling through her numerous saved Tik Toks.

“Well, I’m not shy to admit that I am a bit of a fangirl and do have quite a large folder of saved edits.” Y/n giggled, her cheeks flushing as her eyes landed on an especially entertaining edit of Drew. “Now I’m gonna preface that… yes, a lot of these are of Drew or myself or our characters. I can’t lie, I do have a bit of an addiction.”

As she watched it, she bit her lip and let out a flustered giggle. Behind the camera, the interviewers laughed at y/n’s reaction, causing her to scroll onto the next edit:

“Oh my god I forgot about this one!” Y/n squealed. “I was showing this one to Drew and Madelyn last night and we were in actual tears at the comments!”

“I just want to say, shout out to the editors and commentators on Tik Tok for being so unabashedly horny.” Y/n said, pointing to the camera with a cheesy grin.

What have you been listening to lately music wise?

“I mean… the people already know.” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully as she opened up her Spotify before turning it to the screen:

“I told y’all I was a Swiftie and I wasn’t lying.” Y/n raised her eyebrows as she dove further into her playlists and collections.

“Playlist wise, I have my go-to jams, showtunes, classic rock, rap and hip-hop… a little bit of everything.” Y/n smiled.

"I also like to make playlists for each of my characters," y/n explained. "It really helps me to get into the mind of the character and kind of... explore aspects of them that might not be surface level or obvious."

What’s the vibe on your Pinterest?

“Ooh yay! I love Pinterest.” Y/n squealed as she opened up Pinterest excitedly. “Pinterest is actually the most underrated app, I use it everyday for work, memes, funsies.”

“Fun fact, a lot of my nails and fashion genuinely come from Pinterest.” Y/n explained. “My stylist and I have a shared board and are constantly sharing new ideas.”

“Is your Pinterest public?” The interviewer asked, to which a mischievous grin spread across y/n’s lips.

“No it is not, I like to be at least a little bit mysterious and I feel like Pinterest is pretty personal.” Y/n nodded.

Who was the last person you texted or called?

Y/n giggled, not even needing to open the app to check as she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Drew. He texted me right before I got here, which we always do right before either of us have an interview.” Y/n grinned, closing her phone.

“Well thank you so much for having me, Glamour, and I hope that you all enjoyed looking into the depths of my phone!” Y/n said, waving to the camera before turning to the interviewer.

“That wasn’t quite as scandalous as I thought it was going to be.” Y/n teased, winking to the camera one last time.

[fhrlclln]

underneath | qimir

SUMMARY -> ever since you found him and he trained you, he had always concealed his identity to you for his unknown reasons. you were always curious what he looks like underneath the cortosis helm he wears. though, this time the curiosity in you would be sated at last when a particular sparring session turns into an unexpected lesson in trust.

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> mild nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, sexual tension, mild violence, master/pupil dynamic & smut is at the end : P

WC -> 2.82k

a/n: surprise! another qimir fic cuz i can’t get him out of my head.

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"have you ever wondered what he looks like underneath that mask?"

you asked your fellow pupil, mae, one day out of the blue. the particular reason for asking that question had always been because of your undying curiosity for the years you started to train under him.

your masked master.

"i don't." mae would answer, saying that she doesn't care what he would look like underneath the mask. saying that as long as he trains her, his identity doesn't matter to her. you understood her with that, she was his acolyte first and it probably dawned upon you that the years of concealing his identity to her she had thrown away the curiosity of what their master looked like.

but on the other hand, you, you somehow couldn't stop wondering.

you had found him or- he had found you when you were escaping your slave captors after your own sister had betrayed you in selling you to them. you were angry, in rage and unaware of the dormant power that had awoken in you with that rage you had felt. and in your fit of rage, you had managed to slaughter two of the captors chasing you, leaving you feeling guilty for your horrendous actions. you decided to escape and flee the planet. that is until by some chance, you had come across the masked stranger in the middle of the night who had told you about the gift you possessed, telling that you shouldn't be ashamed you used it in your self-defense.

and that's when he had took you under his wing, training you as his pupil.

he had taught you what your gift was, what your power is. he trained you, taught you and for the most part, despite him putting this distance between you and mae, he had helped you. and maybe that’s why you’re so curious to know who he is really, you wanted to see the master who had graciously accepted you despite you knowing your connection with the force was not as strong as mae’s.

he was… well, you could not really put a strong opinion on what kind of a man your master was. for the most part, he was always away and in training sessions, he was closed-off and distant. but when he spars with you and mae, that’s when a hint of his personality is peeking through.

rough, aggressive, strict. the way he spared with you had left you with tired sore knees and bruised arms when defending. on the offensive attacks you made he was quick to dodge and maneuver himself with your predictable attacks. he was ruthless in his combat but there was still that fluidity in it. but you knew he still held back with you despite the aggressiveness. you wished he had put more effort in your sparring sessions just like mae’s but you knew he was focusing more on her since she was at the brink of completing her lessons.

“safe travels, mae.” you wish her luck as she nods at you. the master had given her final lesson- to kill a jedi without a weapon. you were proud of your fellow acolyte but it did upset you how much you were falling behind. the waves splash in the background as you watch her walk to her ship. you wave her off as you saw it fly out the cloudy atmosphere then jumped into hyperspace, on the course to euda.

the sea breeze helps you gather your thoughts, and you wonder if the master would train you further today. seeing that mae had to learn this lesson by herself. sensing him, you feel the pull of the force as you turn around to see your master standing a few feet away from you.

the scene makes you remember that night when you found him. for a moment it did frighten you to see him loom over you when you fell to your knees from running. you were injured then and you had momentarily thought he was one of the slave traders that was trying to capture you. it took you a while to get used to him being like this when he appears out of the blue. well, for a random person, it would seem frightening to see a masked stranger dressed in black robes suddenly appear in mid-air. plus the saber tucked in his belt.

“master.” you greet him, anticipation lingering inside you.

“we shall continue your training today, my acolyte.” his modulated voice says. you feel your chest swell with excitement as you nodded. “be prepared.”

“of course, master.” you bowed slightly as he walks off to where the sparring lessons usually are. you smiled to yourself, maybe this time he’d finally put more effort in your training as you walk with a slight spring in your steps.

・゜゜・．

“focus.”

he says as your feet scraped against the rocks at his force push. you huff, your chest heaving, your leather tunic is starting to stick on your glistening sweaty skin, making you feel uncomfortable. you sigh, frustrated how you were not landing a single blow on him. your mind was elsewhere, seeming that you are still focused on wondering what he looks like underneath that mask.

“use that frustration. focus on your emotions.” he commands and you composed yourself, swatting the questions of his unknown face in your head. you ready yourself in a fighting stance, body facing to the side while you wave your arm in front of you. you clenched your fist for a moment as you heed into his words and attack. you use the force to heighten your leap towards him as you land a blow but he dodges again. an uppercut, he doges, a kick you do he dodges again. you feel yourself get even more irritated but in ease that he was finally not holding back when he blocks one of your blows with his arm.

but still, you were still not fighting the way he has to expect you to fight.

“you are too trustful in me, acolyte.” he scolds you, the modulated tone ringing. he backs away from you as you stopped, confused. yes, you indeed trust him, why was it a bad thing?

“i beg your pardon, master?” your breaths are labored and somehow from the close distance, you could hear him sigh underneath the mask.

“you are too trustful.” he says again. “do not trust me that i will not kill you even if i am training you. trust in yourself. we cannot continue this lesson if you do not learn to do that.” a chill runs through your spine at his words. there’s a slight pang of hurt in those words of his that were true. yes, he could kill you. why wouldn’t he if you failed him? you seem to stiffen at his words as he reminds you again, this time he will take the offensive attack.

“trust is a fragile thing. you cannot trust anyone but yourself, my acolyte. even if the person has sworn to trust you, they would eventually betray you. but yourself? you cannot betray yourself.” he explains as you nodded at his words. “when since you had put your whole trust in someone and they betrayed you in the end?”

you look at him, rage starting to boil in you when you remembered your own sister’s betrayal. your chest tightens and your mind is enraged with it. the pain she had put you in, the survival you had to do, the running you had to tire and the people you had to kill just to be free-

“there it is.” he says, proud. feeling your ever glowing rage.

“now, focus.” he suddenly attacks you as you dodged swiftly. both of you move in a tandem, as if it were a dance. the painful realization that even your master, the one who saved you and took you in, would eventually might betray you as well. the rage in you is at its boiling point as you let out a guttural scream when he almost aims for your neck. you push him back with your force then surging to him with heat in your steps as you attacked. he blocks your powerful blow with two of his arms forming an x. you kick him immediately on the stomach and he lurches, caught off guard.

you were too in to your emotions as you attacked and attacked. he tries to doge and block your every hit but he eventually succumbs to your rage when you finally kicked him to the ground. before he could stand, you immediately come on top of him, preventing that. you fist the collar of his robe, clenched hand in the air ready to land a final punch-

“excellent, my acolyte.” he cuts you off as you suddenly blink back into your rational self. you let go of his collar and you let yourself relax but ultimately surprised how close you are to him. you’re on top of him, your legs caging his waist and he seems not to dismiss you to get off. you can see clearly his helmet now, it was full of marks of previous battles. you take your time to admire him beneath you, how his adam’s apple bob and the sheen of sweat covering his bare muscular arms that were bulging with veins.

you blush, realizing you were staring at your master with ill thoughts.

but… the curiosity of what he looks like underneath it makes you wonder. your hand slowly comes up to his helmet and you feel him watch you with every move you make. he observes silently and you hovered your hand above his masked face. but you snap out of it again, realizing you could have offended him. and he could kill you for this. you know he takes great lengths to conceal his identity.

“a-apologies, master, i-“ before you could retract your hand and get off him. his hand suddenly grips your wrist. your eyes widened as he sits up and you adjust, hovering above his lap. he tilts his head to the side inquisitively, as if he was amused to see your curiosity be revealed. you stay quiet, staring at his masked face, waiting for his words. your cheeks are hot and you feel the anticipation grow in you. he places your hand on the side of his mask, the way he brushes your fingers softly makes you feel wobbly now.

“go on.” he merely says. you stutter, not knowing what to say. did he just agreed for you to remove his mask? your thoughts are jumbled but you succumb to your curiosity. you put both of your hands to both sides of his masked face. you slowly remove it inch by inch whilst you stared at the peaking facial features you have longed imagined what he looked like. you remove the helm completely and your heart skips a beat.

your eyes meet with a strangely beautiful dark ones.

his black hair is disheveled, his skin is smooth and his jawline is handsomely well chiseled. your eyes roam his face and it settles to his pink lips. you feel a hum of arousal between your legs when you look into his eyes again. his face is so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath tingle your lips. you put his helmet down to your side as the other brushes the black locks of his concealing his face. his pupils grow dark, your lips are inches to his and you somehow feel in-trance to lock it with yours.

this, this is the face of your master.

he’s beautiful. you think as you let out a noise when his other hand brush against your thigh. the other gently grips your hand that brushed his hair. you wondered why he had hidden his beautiful face from you and mae.

“master…” you plead as he smirks and it makes you blush.

“you did good today.” his low voice with a rasp of approval instead of the modulated one made your stomach churn and your thighs clench. the way his lips are still hovering above yours makes your head dizzy with the anticipation of what he’s doing. his top lip brushes against yours and he leans forward but before you could feel his soft lips lock with yours, you pull back. this is wrong.

“apologies, master.” you place your hands on his chest as you pulled yourself up to your feet. he seems taken aback for a moment with your rejection but composes himself as he eyes you up with a dark glint in his eyes.

“curiosity is normal. don’t be embarrassed.” he chuckles and that rings through your ears. the way he acts now is dissimilar to when he has his mask on and it baffles you how human he now is. you don’t know what to say, fearing that you have failed him in almost every way. you watch him stand up then grabbed his helmet and he looks at you. something in his gaze shines with hunger.

“we’ll continue our lesson another time.” he walks pass you and the brush of his arm against yours makes your heart jump.

“yes, master.” the initial shock of the situation still hasn’t faded when he’s out of your sight. you gulp, sweat dripping down your forehead. was he not upset that you know his face now? would he kill you for it later perhaps? those questions hang in the air. your heart still beats remembering his lips close to yours. you turn back, walking back to the shore, there’s a feeling you can’t seem to place as you let your thoughts linger on your master’s revealed face.

・゜゜・．

you dry your face with a rag then pulled a fresh tunic and bottoms from your pile of fresh clean robes. the dimness of the light inside your room in the cave made it comforting for your wild thoughts. you put on the brown tight bottoms then the grey tunic. but those thoughts soon come alive when you felt a presence near the entrance of your room.

you turn around swiftly, seeing your master standing right by the concave opening of your room. no mask on but just wearing… perfectly normal clothing. he dawned a white tunic and usual black bottoms, his hair is slicked back, damp from his bath you presumed. you stand awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. you were used to his mysterious persona.

“you did exceptionally well today.” he begins with a praise. “but, i am surprised how focused you are on knowing what i look like.”

“thank you.” you merely say, eyes shying away when he points out your curiosity. “i apologize for that, master.”

“don’t be.” he steps forward and each step he takes has an anticipation behind them. you stay in your place, taking in how comforting he looks. “i’m glad for your curiosity.” he confesses.

“you are?” you are surprised with that.

qimir nods, adoring the way you seemed so surprised. he had his reasons for concealing his identity to you and mae. it was for to create a distance between the master and pupil. he feared attachment might overcome why he took you under his wing. he knows you already saw him as a person who finally cared for you and in truth, he does. you are a gifted woman with the force and over the years despite the distance he placed, you managed to crawl into his cold heart.

“but i fear your curiosity isn’t sated enough.” he points out and the atmosphere in the room changes. you know what he means. when you had almost kissed him but you hesitated, fearing that things might change drastically after that. he was your master after all. he steps closer to you, the distance is just like the one moments ago.

“am i right?” he asks when you stare at his lips. you wondered if mae would be enraged for what you are about to do as your body moved at its own accord.

you surge forward and lock your lips with his.

and that ends up with you sprawled underneath him. your curiosity is sated and he rewards you more with a thrust of his hips with his cock inside you. you clench around him, your hands caressing the width of his broad back. here you are, your naked body pressed against his as you moan in his ear. he groans, suckling the soft flesh of your neck.

“master…” you sigh, legs wrapped around tight on his waist. his hands are holding your thighs in place as he thrusts his cock into your warm heat. he locks eyes with your heavy one and it makes him soar at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he smirks as he kisses you hotly as he grinds his hips down.

your curiosity indeed was successfully sated by him.

[after-witch]

A Snowy Interlude [Yandere Illumi x Reader]

Title: A Snowy Interlude [Yandere Illumi x Reader]

Synopsis: You play in the snow--a rare treat.

Word count: 1418

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of past abuse

“Are… you… sure this is… allowed?”

Even if it weren’t cold, your words would have come out slow and almost stuttered. But the cold air doesn’t do anything to help the eloquence of your speech, which comes out haltingly, words carefully chosen and accompanied by puffs of your whitened breath. 

Illumi’s face remains, as almost always, impassive.

“What do you mean, allowed?” He asks, finally, watching as you take each piece of winter clothing from the standing butler and slip them on. Gloves, a scarf, a hat, all fitted perfectly to your form. 

It would have been nicer to put them on before stepping out into the winter air, but you hadn’t been outside in months, and you weren’t going to complain about a thing. He did have you step into winter boots first, at least, and a winter coat. 

“I just mean,” you reply, watching as the butler gestures for you to step into a pair of thick, puffy snow pants–the kind you used to wear as a kid, “I haven’t been outside in… a while.” 

Your voice warbles as you hold onto the butler’s arm support and step into the puffy pants; butlers were the only other people you were allowed to touch, besides Illumi. Even then, they knew to never touch first; you could touch them like furniture, like a useful thing. 

Illumi hums. “No, you haven’t. I felt it inappropriate for you to be outside.” 

You don’t comment–you don’t want him to elaborate and change his mind. Or worse, decide that it is inappropriate for a newly-minted Zoldyck wife to step outside the mansion looking like an oversized marshmallow.

Once you’re dressed, the butler stands aside, and you let your gaze wander across the garden. 

It had really been snowing. Illumi had let you sit at the window watching as the flakes fell, thin and almost rain-like at first, but then gradually getting thicker and fluffier as the day went on. It snowed for almost three days straight and now the entire estate looked like something out of a pretty winter story–the roofs all covered in white, the same pretty sparkling white that covered the ground and went up past your knees.

It was all waiting, just beyond the cobblestone path leading back inside the estate. It had been neatly shoveled out and you tried to picture the butlers shoveling it bit by bit, as your neighbors were no doubt doing back home. Well. What had been home, before all this. 

Illumi doesn’t make to move, and you give him an awkward look. 

“Um. So. Can I… go out there?” It’s a silly question, you realize. Why get you all dressed up for being outside if you were just going to stand on the shoveled path? Oh. Well. Actually. Maybe it's not so silly, and Illumi was just being irritatingly over-protective about the cold.

And perhaps you’re right to question it, because Illumi’s eyebrows furrow. Just a little. Just enough to notice.

“Oh,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered it. He pauses, and you wonder if this is it, your time outside will just be spent standing at staring. “... Yes. I suppose that’s all right.”

Something like happiness prickles your chest and you step away from the shoveled cobblestones, boots sinking into the deep snow. The sound of each step is so familiar, so nostalgic; the swish of your snow pants with every movement, the soft crunching of the snow, the way it yields underneath your boots.

Your smile grows without you realizing it as you make your way into the garden, arms out at your sides for balance. How long is it since you’ve been in the snow like this? Even before Illumi took you, it wasn’t like you had the time for it. 

You were a kid, surely. Maybe 12 or 13, the last time it was still considered cool to dress in bulky outerwear and trudge your sled up to the neighborhood sledding hill. 

A sense of wonder overtakes you, and it feels like the past few months are left behind you, standing alongside Illumi and the butler–the training, the pain, the burns, the bruises, the broken arm and fingers. The instructions and etiquette and rules, rules, rules. 

How could they come with you, as you begin to trudge–happy then happier–through the snow? 

It’s so thick you feel like if you fell down, you’d be lost in it. Maybe you’ll sink to the ground. Maybe you could make a snow angel–or a cave. The urge to fall overtakes you as it so often did in childhood and you simply plop backward in the snow. The thump hides the sound of Illumi rushing forward, though perhaps he would have known how to run through the snow silently anyway.

When you look up, you see Illumi, of course. But beyond that is what you’re interested in: the sky above you, all blue and lovely. There’s whiteness, too, the sparkling prettiness of the snow all around you. Some of the cold has seeped underneath your coat and scarf, burning your ears. But you don’t mind.

Of course, you’re eventually forced to acknowledge him, and you finally let your gaze focus on Illumi. He’s leaning down, his hair almost becoming a black curtain.

“Why did you fall?” He looks–almost concerned, you think. “Are you having a heart attack?” It’s funny, really, the way he phrases his so calmly. If you weren’t becoming somewhat decent at reading him, you might think he was joking. 

He’s not. So–

You blink up at him.

Then you move your arms and legs up and down, up and down, making a snow angel underneath you.

Illumi blinks back.

“Perhaps you’ve had a stroke.”

You grin, then, and clutch a handful of snow underneath your gloves. 

“I didn’t, to both. Haven’t you ever made a snow angel?” You ask, curling the snow together, beginning to form a ball and idly wondering if you’re brave enough to do it.

Illumi straightens his back, and looks at the impressions of snow you’ve left behind your arms and legs. He doesn’t seem impressed.

“No. I haven’t.”

Something pangs inside you, and a question floats up: what kind of childhood did Illumi have, anyway? Maybe he never played in the snow. Never made a snow angel, never spent hours digging out a snow cave with friends. Never slid down a hill and bashed into a tree and it hurt but it was fun all the same.

It must have been hard. 

Your fingers curl around your newly made snowball and instead of chucking it as his face, you sit up, and start pulling in more snow to make it bigger.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t answer. Instead you keep going, scooping, gathering, and rolling until you’ve got the makings of a fantastic snowman butt.

“Are you going to answer me?” There’s enough of a sharp pin in his tone and you hoist yourself up, using the round snowman butt as leverage.

“I’m making a snowman,” you answer. “But all I’ve got is the butt.” You gesture to your creation, stalling for the time needed to create the words, to ask the question. Surprising, how hard it is to ask Illumi to do something like this.

“If you want, you could… get some gloves and join me?” 

Illumi looks around you, at the disheveled mess you’ve made of the pristine fallen snow, at the clumps of snow clinging to your snow pants, your gloves, your hat. At the large round ball you’re proclaiming is a snowman butt.

At your face, beaming, carefree, in a way he’s never seen you look since before he took you.

“I don’t mind the cold,” is all he says, before he leans down and begins to mimic the way you scooped snow together. 

It doesn’t hold. He’s awful at it. And you do something you’ve never done before, at least, not on your own initiative–you place your gloved hands over his and curl your fingers in the right way, so that the snow gets packed together properly.

Illumi goes still, and you pretend not to notice, because you think he’d rather you didn’t. 

Instead, you keep on making your snowman, as Illumi slowly but surely gets the hang of it.

“I’m glad it snowed so much,” you say, quietly, cheerily, wondering if a butler could run inside to get carrots and something for the snowman to wear.

Illumi, in response, hums.

It’s as close as you’ll get to agreement. 

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

this fuckin Esquire photoshoot has me so feral istg

Summary: You were Helaena's best friend, but her brothers were more than a little interested in you.

Warnings: Modern!AU, mutual pining, tension, angst, eventual fluff, hurt/comfort, slight whump, brief descriptions of domestic violence (from a Lannister), SMUT (MINORS DNI), wet dreams, masturbation, threesome (M/M/F), oral (f and m receiving), praise kink, fingering, p in v sex, anal sex, double penetration, spitroast, and multiple creampies

word count | 7.6k🤙🏻

It had been a couple years since you and Helaena Targaryen became best friends. You both met at university, sharing multiple classes and you just clicked, having similar interests and sharing the same sense of humor. It wasn’t long before she had invited you over for a family night at their estate, meeting most of the family, along with her brothers. 

At first, Aemond didn’t really pay you any mind. He was withdrawn, cautious, even a bit suspicious, as he usually was, though he appreciated that you must’ve been a good friend to his sister. Helaena was never the best at making friends, considered odd to most, so it was a shock to everyone when she said she was bringing her best friend over for a couple nights. You seemed pretty shy yourself, so Aemond made no effort into getting to know you, besides keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t cross any lines. Though, that changed after a while.

It took him a few months to start warming up to you, and even then he still wasn’t comfortable being left alone with you. You weren’t quite past the small talk stage, and Aemond absolutely despised small talk, though he was never one to have deep conversations with borderline strangers either. Helaena kept trying to convince him to talk to you sometime, stating how wonderful you were to her and how you’d be a wonderful friend to him as well. So, only for his sister, Aemond started trying to get to know you.

After another couple months, Aemond cursed himself for not trying to get to know you sooner. You were very pleasant to be around, you were kind like Helaena, thoughtful and above all, could keep up with his talks about philosophy. You had very strong opinions, a better word would be convictions. He’d never admit to it, but Aemond admired your sense of justice and how you thought the world should be, even if there were certain aspects of your opinions he’d never believe himself. You listened to him when no one else would, spoke plainly when anybody else besides his family would be too afraid to. It wasn’t long before he gained feelings for you, even though he knew he shouldn’t have. It was hard not to, with you being around almost all the time. Though, that came with another problem.

Aegon.

Though completely different to his brother in almost every way, Aegon did share some similarities with Aemond. When you first arrived with Helaena, Aegon was indifferent. He cared about his family no matter how much he tried not to, so any outsider always put him on edge. But whereas Aemond would be completely withdrawn and prefer to observe, Aegon would be the opposite, trying to talk to you any chance he got, trying to figure out what your game was, if you had any malicious intent with his sister. It was infuriated when he couldn’t find any flaw, any hint that you may have been using them. He cornered you that first night, putting on his favorite mask to try to overwhelm you with accusatory questions.

And despite all of Aegon’s antics, he never scared you away and you never faltered. He got a lashing from Helaena afterwards though, accusing him of trying to scare away her only friend. He rolled his eyes at that comment, he was just trying to see if you were good enough for his sister, that’s all.

Aegon kept an eye on you every time you’d come over, making sure you didn’t nick something from the family. Helaena told him you weren’t like that, not like the company he kept sometimes. Aegon never had a single friend that didn’t try to steal something or ask for money, all of his “friends” were just using him. So maybe he was projecting a little, but he told himself he was just being safe.

To Aegon’s surprise, you had turned the tables on him, cornering him in his own home, asking what his problem was. Truth be told, Aegon was just scared, scared of another person coming into their home just to use them for their money and status to just discard them when they were done. He was more than a little paranoid, he was traumatized. Most of the time, it was Aegon’s fault something was stolen from them. He trusted people too easily, made too many best friends with the wrong people. His own mother threatened to kick him out if he didn’t stop making mistakes; so he quit making mistakes. He wasn’t going to let you be another mistake, even if it would be Helaena making it and not him. He had a feeling he’d be blamed for it anyway, as he often was when something went wrong. He was tired of being the scapegoat, and he hated you for coming there and threatening to undo all his progress.

But you weren’t there to unroot his progress, or take anything from anyone, you just loved being Helaena’s friend; and you wanted to be friends with her siblings as well. And Aegon slowly started to realize that. It took him a while, but he started to see you as you truly were: Helaena’s best friend, close like sisters, looking out for one another. Like Aemond, Aegon hated that he didn’t believe his sister’s kind words about you. He was so afraid of making the same mistakes, he made a completely different one, missing out of being your friend as well. Aegon quickly tried to make up for the lost time, but thankfully, you were happy to spend time getting to know him as well.

Like his younger brother, Aegon started to fall for you too, though neither of them realized it yet.

They were fucked.

Aemond woke with a start, a cold sweat coating his entire body. He groaned as he felt the stickiness between his legs, knowing what must’ve happened, if his dreams were anything to go by.

He angrily kicked the blankets off of himself, feeling hot even though it was the middle of winter, storming to the bathroom to take a cold shower. He was embarrassed, he hadn’t had a wet dream since he was a teenager. He had so much control over himself for the longest time, so this felt like a slight to his own body. He needed to get laid, badly. It wasn’t for lack of options, Aemond knew he could get any woman into bed with him, there was just a very specific person he had in mind.

Helaena told him that you would be joining them for the holidays, your own family not doing anything to celebrate, so they didn’t mind you going tagging along, and Helaena was more than excited to get you all to herself during the festivities. Though, Aemond had plans to get you alone more than once over the course of the weekend. But what he didn’t know is Aegon was planning the exact same thing.

Aemond tore off all his sheets, bringing them to the washer, annoyed to find Aegon nearby. “Aw, did little brother have a wee accident? Did the little Aemy wet the bed? Mate, are you five?” Aemond glared at his older brother, if only looks could kill. Slowly, Aegon realized, much to Aemond’s horror. “Oh, nah, you creamed the bed!” He guffawed, almost doubling over from the force of his laughter.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll tell mum you’re using again.”

“But I’m not!”

“And do you really think she’d believe you over me?” That shut Aegon up…briefly.

“So…does this little sticky situation have anything to do with her coming over for the holiday?”

Aemond narrowed his eyes at Aegon, tensing and balling his fist, ready to punch his brother’s perfect teeth in. “What makes you ask that?”

Aegon giggled, backing away slightly, having been on the end of one of Aemond’s punches too many times to count. “Come on, little brother. The way you reacted when Helaena told everyone she’d be coming over, it was like Christmas came early…and so did you, apparently.”

“You fuckin’ twat!” Aemond tried to shove Aegon, but he dodged too quickly.

“It’s alright, brother, I’ll take her off your hands if you can’t keep the little guys in!” Aegon giggled as he ran away, throwing a mischievous smile over his shoulder.

Pfft, as if…Aemond sneered.

Besides Helaena, Aemond was the first to greet you as you exited the cab that drove you to their estate and you appreciated the modest welcome.

When you met Helaena, you had no idea her family was so…well endowed, so to speak. From her manners and how she spent her money, you’d think her family was more like yours, so you can imagine how shocked you were when you were invited to her family home for the first time, pulling up to a mansion on a huge chunk of land. It was like stepping into a fairytale. But most of the family you met was surprisingly humble. 

You were nervous about meeting her brothers, but Helaena assured you that they’d warm up to you eventually, they just had trust issues. And that they did, Daeron was no issue, considering he was studying abroad and rarely ever made it home for holidays. Aemond and Aegon, however, it was a race to see who’d warm up to you the fastest. It shocked you to see that the younger brother became friends with you first. It was very passive and slow, his opening up to you. You could tell he didn’t give information freely, and you would never be able to coax it out of him. He was like a cat, he’d come to you when and if he wanted. And when you finally gained his trust, he was like an open book. You never flinched when he showed you what was underneath his eyepatch, you thought he was beautiful and you told him so. He cried, and you held him. You liked to read together, discuss politics and human rights. You felt connected to him deeply, and you started to care about him as much as Helaena.

With Aegon, it was completely different.

When you first met Aegon, he was all over you, trying to find out all about you immediately, to the point you thought he was hitting on you. He was known for his promiscuity at the university you all went to after all, even when the campus was large, word liked to travel fast. But turns out, he wasn’t into you at all, just making sure you were “safe,” as Helaena worded it. It went on for months, feeling like you were being watched whenever you hung out with the Helaena. You were finally sick of it, confronting Aegon and telling him off without being too disrespectful. You thought you broke him for a moment, him just staring at you for the longest time but before you could turn to leave, he grabbed your wrist, quickly explaining himself, stating that he really only wanted to protect his family. He apologized for making you uncomfortable and that it’ll never happen again.

You forgave Aegon, and the two of you became fast friends. Soon, you started to hang out with all of them at the same time, but you had to remember you were Helaena’s friend first. She would always come first…even when you started to harbor crushes on her brothers. 

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t the most sought after person in the world, you didn’t really know what it was like to have people vie for your attention, so these two boys sent your brain into an overload. They seemed to constantly compete for your attention, to the point you thought your feelings may have been requited for either of them. But how would that even work? You often laughed humorlessly at yourself, what a fool you must be to crush on two men at once. But you did, and you hated yourself for it. So spending a whole holiday with them would be challenging.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Helaena took you in her arms excitedly, a surprising strength making your breath escape your lungs.

“Crushing…lungs…” You heaved, giggling breathlessly when she finally let you go.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so happy you’re here. Aemond too, right Aemy?” She tugged on her younger brother’s leather jacket sleeve, an unperceivable smile decorating his lips, one only someone close to him could notice, and notice you did. “It’s felt like forever since you’ve been able to come over.”

“That it has.” Aemond added, taking your hand and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles, making you blush.

“Ever the gentleman, eh?” You tried laughing off your flustered state, pulling him into a hug, smelling his amazing cologne that always made you want to bite him. He held you close, the cold crisp air of the winter months barely noticeable with how warm he was against you. You shivered when he let you go, his warmth leaving all too quickly. “Freezing, let’s head inside, shall we?”

The Targaryens weren’t much of a hugging family, but Aegon was, and he gave you a hug that almost put Helaena and Aemond’s to shame. For someone who was never hugged much as a child, he sure knew how to give the best ones, you thought. “Hello, love.” He smiled, his bright white teeth lighting up the room, giving a polite kiss to your cheek. You were embarrassed how fast your panties soaked through.

Suddenly, Aegon was pushed away by Aemond, who put his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sure she doesn’t want your drool all over her.”

Aegon narrowed his eyes, but still kept a smile, albeit a bit more eggy than the genuine one he directed towards you before. “Says you, brother, you’re the one clinging to her now.”

And that’s how most of the holiday went, Aemond and Aegon constantly trying to spend time alone with you, which you never understood why. You even asked Helaena why they were being fussier than usual, to which she just responded with a mischievous giggle. It was a shame, but you honestly didn’t have that much time to spend with each of them alone, the family’s bread and circuses being too grand for anyone to have alone time. Besides, you were there for Helaena and you didn’t want to leave her side for anything. Even if you, in your heart, desired to spend time with her brothers a bit more. 

During the entire holiday, you needed to relieve yourself more than once in the privacy of your guest room. You brought yourself to your peak with your vibrator, imagining Aegon’s tongue gliding up your neck, kissing his full lips, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you as he taunts you to come for him. You also imagined Aemond, his large hand squeezing your throat as he fucks you from behind, his grunts in your ear and he spills in your womb, rubbing your clit and forcing you to climax over and over until you broke for him. Even, bashfully, having them both fuck you at the same time. You knew no one would ever find out your lecherous fantasies, but you still blushed thinking about it.

You were proud you survived the Targaryen festivities without slipping up and exposing your crushes, the hardest thing you’ve ever done. You really needed to get laid, and you didn’t like it but you knew you had to move on. You needed to go on one of those dating websites, get a quick fuck and maybe even find a relationship. And when university came back in full force and you were alone in your flat with nothing but homework and the spider that had permanently made a home in your coffee cup cabinet, you did exactly that.

Julian Lannister…hmm. He was handsome, for sure. Fit, blonde and blue-eyed…not the type of blonde you personally liked and his eyes were a dark blue that could’ve passed as a type of purple in the dark. He was conventionally attractive, and that was good enough for you. 

Swipe Right.

Aegon heard a loud shatter from across the flat, his feet almost sliding across the wooden flooring as he ran to the source of the noise. “Fuck!”

His eyes widened as he saw the blood stained shards of a mirror scattered in a pile on the floor, seeing his brother’s enraged face glued to his phone. “Aemond?” He exclaimed. “What the bloody hell is going on? What have you done to yourself?” Aegon rushed to Aemond’s side, trying to gently grab his cut up hand, but he lurched away. “What’s wrong?”

Aemond didn’t say a word as he lifted his phone screen for Aegon to see. A text from Helaena. She’s got a boyfriend now. Aegon understood now, as he felt his heart sink in his chest and a similar rage bubble in his chest. But alas, he didn’t feel the need to punch a mirror like his idiot brother did. “Ah…so that’s why you decided to mutilate yourself, you twat?”

It took some convincing, but Aegon got his little brother to let him clean the wounds on his hands. “I fucked it all up…” Aemond mumbled.

Aegon sighed, wrapping a bandage around Aemond’s hand. “So did I. We had the whole holiday but we pussied out, no one to blame but ourselves. Woman like her, she was bound to be swept off her feet eventually.”

“It should’ve been one of us…”

“Yeah…but hey, we’re still her best mates, that’s not gonna change. I’d rather be in her life as a friend than not at all, yeah?”

Aemond nodded his head in agreement. “Just wish I could’ve shown her how happy I can make her, and how happy she makes me.”

“The future’s not set in stone, right? Sure, she has a man now, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna stay with him forever.” Aemond chuckled. “What?”

“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said in your life.”

“Mmm, yeah, right, ruin the moment, why don’t ya?”

“Baby, baby, please-!” You were interrupted with a slap from your boyfriend, the force of it shoving you to the floor with a cry.

“Don’t you dare “baby” me, slut! I knew you didn’t love me, you’ll never love anyone more than those Targaryen freaks! Hope you die in a ditch, bitch.” Julian stormed out of your flat, slamming the door so hard the picture you hung up of the two of you fell and shattered, glass flying everywhere.

It had been two months leading up to this moment. Two months since you started dating Julian, who started out as a one night stand, then a two night stand, then you started fucking every night until he asked you to be his girlfriend. In truth, you should’ve told him no, but the sex was decent and you desperately wanted to get over Aegon and Aemond. You led him on, and that was your fault. Now, you were paying the consequences. A bruise on your cheek formed quickly, and you cut up your hands picking up the pieces of glass in a sobbing fit. You deserved this, didn’t you? 

You needed to see your best friends. Honestly, you wanted to see your boys, but you knew that would not turn out well. You were in a bad state, you needed to talk to someone that wouldn’t judge you when you couldn’t control what came out of your mouth while venting. Helaena might be upset you had feelings for her brothers, but you knew ultimately you wouldn't lose her because of it. So to Helaena’s you went.

But what you didn’t know was that Aegon and Aemond were at their sister’s flat while she was at a study getaway with one of her classes, making sure her cat Dreamfire was getting proper attention. If you had known that, you never would’ve knocked on her door.

It was Aemond who opened the door first, his eye widening and brows furrowing in concern, seeing your tear stained face…and then the bruise. “What happened?” He almost growled, pulling you past the threshold into the flat before you could even protest. Aegon said your name in gleeful surprise, but his smile immediately fell when he noticed something was wrong. 

“I never should’ve come here.” You cried, trying to hide your face from the brothers.

“Hey, hey…” Aegon whispered, gently trying to pry your hands away from your face. “Did that Lannister prick do this?” You didn’t have to say anything for them both to know he guessed correctly, both looking at each other with a similar expression. “We’ll kill him.”

“No, please!” You quickly exclaimed, knowing that they could and get away with it. “Please, he’s not worth it. It’s over between us, I don’t want to waste any more time on him, please. Can I just…please, let’s just watch a movie or something, okay?”

Aemond pulled your weak form into a tight hug, his warmth calming you slightly. “We can do whatever you want, love. Right, Aegon?”

He nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He placed his large hand on your shoulder, smoothing the wrinkles on your shirt in a soothing motion. “We’ll always be here for you.”

Since that night, neither Aegon nor Aemond left you alone. If they weren’t in the same area as you, they were always texting you, making sure you were okay or if you needed anything. It felt like you had two husbands doting on you. The thought made you a little bit too happy. But one thing that worried you a little was how fast you heard of something bad happening to Julian. It didn’t even take a week for you to hear about him being in a motor “accident.” He wasn’t majorly injured or anything, but he had to stay in the hospital for a couple weeks before he could start physical therapy to learn how to walk again. You felt bad for how apathetic you were about the whole thing. You were just relieved he was out of your life.

You could spend time with your best friends without feeling guilty now, knowing you didn’t have a boyfriend to cater too. You could finally get yourself off without feeling like you were cheating in a way. You were free. But the downside, your crushes on Aemond and Aegon had only gotten stronger. You would have movie nights all the time whenever you weren’t busy with college or your job. You spent time with them and Helaena at the same time and it was lovely. You didn’t know how it managed to get this way, but they’d even spend the night at your flat sometimes. Not that you minded all that much, it just made it harder to act like a normal person who didn’t have extremely strong feelings for someone, or someones.

It often was the same way, you, Aegon, and Aemond all sitting on your couch watching some stupid movie, much like tonight. And like always, you sat between the two brothers. But something felt different, it felt more charged. Electrified. Maybe it was because Aemond had his hand on your thigh, squeezing occasionally, as if he hadn’t really noticed what he was doing. Or maybe it was because Aegon had his arm over your shoulder, leaning into you just enough you could smell his shampoo. You felt hot all over, and what made it worse, a sex scene in the movie started to play.

It was eerily silent, and you could’ve sworn you heard your heart beating wildly. Aemond squeezed your thigh so hard you shifted in your spot with a wince, making you lean into Aegon more, which in turn made Aegon squeeze your shoulder. You felt like you were going to start hyperventilating, so you did the only thing you thought to do. You quietly excused yourself, claiming you needed a glass of water. And you did, the cool liquid flowing down your throat with ease, but it only made you wish something else was flowing down your throat…

You were startled out of your thoughts by Aegon gently calling your name, “You alright there, love?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You stuttered, turning around and leaning against the counter. “Just thirsty.”

“Yeah, you seem really thirsty.” He smirked, coming closer to you slightly. “You sure you’re alright, you seem a little frazzled. Did something happen? Did Julian contact you? I sweat, if that bastard-”

“No, nothing like that Egg, I promise. I just…”

When you didn’t finish your sentence, Aegon walked closer and closer to you, your heart starting to race. You tried backing up but you were already pushed up against the cool counter of the kitchen, making it easy for Aegon to corner you. You felt your face heat up as you started to feel his body heat. You cursed yourself silently as you felt your clit start to throb, a wetness starting to leak out of you. “Is there something you’re not telling me, love?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything, but Aegon could tell what you wanted to say. Ever since you started spending more time with him and his brother, they figured out you must’ve had feelings for both of them. Aemond was the first to suspect it, as observant as he was. He noticed the way your pulse quickened whenever he held your hand as “friends.” He saw how your chest heaved whenever each of them got close to you, though Aegon never noticed before. But now, after hearing all over his little brother’s observations Aegon could see the lust in your eyes, saw how your chest heaved. He placed a hand just over your left breast, feeling how fast your heart was beating. 

“Aegon…” You whispered, and he couldn’t help but place his lips against yours. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth, a small tear running down the side of your face. Aegon’s hands ran up your sides, gently squeezing the fat that shaped the body he loved so much. Oh, how he wanted to lift you up onto the counter, pull your pajama shorts and panties to the side and shove his cock deep inside your heat as far as you could take him. But you were different, maybe he would’ve done that with someone he didn’t care for, definitely back when he was a troubled youth. No, he had to treat you with care, and also the deal he made with Aemond. He couldn’t have you all to himself, at least not yet.

Aegon let out a whine as he forced himself to pull away, leaving the both of you breathless. “If you hadn’t already figured it out, I have some pretty strong feelings for you, love.”

“Oh, Aegon, I do too…but-”

“Aemond. You have feelings for him as well.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you-”

“We figured it out some time ago, and we’re fine with it. We, uh…have some to an agreement, if you’ll hear us out.”

Before you could question anything he was talking about, Aegon led you back to the living room, where Aemond was sitting patiently for the two of you. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck it up.”

“I don’t think so?”

Aegon sat you down in a chair opposite of them, letting you have the space to back out if you needed. They didn’t want to overwhelm you just yet. Aemond leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “So, I assume Aegon told you about our agreement?”

“Just that you had one.” You answered, which caused Aemond to shoot a glare at his older brother.

“I thought it would be best to talk to her about it together, dickhead.”

“Anyway.” Aemond growled. “Aegon and I…both have feelings for you, and we know you have feelings for us. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to choose, so we’re willing to share you…if you want.” It was like a dream come true, no, too good to be true. You couldn’t believe it. Were you dreaming? You must’ve been dreaming. “Are you still with us?”

“This…is a lot.” You sighed shakily, but you knew what your body’s answer was, you just didn’t know how you could mentally handle it. “I do want both of you, but how would that work? I know how…uh, jealous you guys can be, especially of each other. How would you handle sharing me?”

Aemond and Aegon gave each other another one of those silent looks, one of those looks that spoke a thousand words without even opening their mouths. “You’re more important to us than our jealousy. We want you in our lives, and we’re willing to do anything to keep you here.” Aemond answered.

“So, if you’re willing, we want to make you happy. But if you don’t feel comfortable…we will understand.” Aegon spoke, but his eyes were pleading, begging that you’d agree.

In the end, you knew what your answer would be. You loved those boys so much, so you couldn’t imagine having to choose between one of them or choosing neither. Why not choose both?

“You…” You smiled shyly, “have my permission to share me.”

And like a switch flipped in each of them, gone were their nervous and hopeful expressions, they were now replaced with an almost predatory and lustful gaze. You could feel the weight of two pairs of eyes looking you up and down like a meal, your core clenching around nothing. You had never been more aroused than you had ever been in your life, you could practically feel yourself dripping. The feeling got even worse when Aemond stood up from the couch, sauntering over to you and leaning his hands on the armrests of the chair you sat in. You craned your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes heavy with desire as he bit his lip and groaned softly, like he was scared of letting himself go. His silver chain that he often wore snuck out of his shirt and dangled below his neck, and it was driving you crazy how sexy this man was.

Aemond chuckled darkly as he noticed you squeezing your thighs together, causing you to blush and look down, but he gently placed his index finger underneath your chin, lifting your gaze back to his. “Tell me what you want, sweet girl.” He whispered smoothly, his voice grazing over you like silk. 

You whimpered when he reached down to squeeze your thigh. “Aemond, please…”

“Please…what? Hm?” You huffed in frustration, your body so heady with arousal it was hard to put the images in your head to words. “I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.”

“Aemond.” Aegon interrupted, and you both looked over to see him watching in amusement at your interactions with each other. “Our poor girl is so needy she can’t speak properly. You’ve been around, what do you think she wants to ask of you?”

Aemond hummed, shifting his gaze back to you. “I imagine…our pretty girl wants me to taste her pretty pussy. Am I right to assume so?” You nodded quickly, the thought making you whine. “Not good enough, love. I’m going to need you to say yes or no for me.”

“Yes, Aemond! Please…” You whined.

“Oh,” Aegon chuckled, “look who’s using her words now?”

You tensed when Aemond started to get on his knees, clenching your thighs together. “What’s wrong?” He immediately asked, and you blushed, your reasoning a bit embarrassing. “It’s okay, you can tell me. Is this not what you really want?”

“That’s not it at all, I just…” You huffed, putting aside your nervousness. “I’d like to have my first kiss with you first…”

A beat passed, one that almost lasted too long before you started to feel even more embarrassed. But Aemond smiled, a genuine, toothy smile. It was a rare thing to see him smile like that. Most of the time, he smirked or tried to hide his teeth. But god when he really smiled, it was as beautiful as Aegon’s. Aemond leaned forward, still on his knees, so you had to lean down to meet him slightly. You wondered how his kisses would be different from Aegon’s. With Aegon, when he kissed you for the first time, it was heavy weighted and passionate, he leaned his whole body against yours, almost bringing you into a hug at the same time. You felt like you couldn’t escape his kiss in the best way. But with Aemond, at first his kiss was soft and light, like he was kissing someone for the first time; but when you met him with the same eagerness, he deepened the kiss by bringing his hands up to cup your face, tilting his head to fully slot his lips perfectly against yours. It was a gentleman’s kiss, but no less passionate. If you hadn't already been sitting, you would’ve gone weak at the knees.

Aemond pulled away from you slowly, a soft clicking noise as your lips broke apart. He hummed lowly, “I always knew you’d taste so good. I’m sure your other lips will taste just as sweet.” You gasped loudly as Aemond removed your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, his eye darkening as he saw how soaked you were already. “So wet and I’ve only kissed you. Come see, brother.”

Aegon all too eagerly crossed the room to witness your wetness, his grin making a pang of arousal surge through you so strongly it almost hurt. “Like a fuckin’ virgin.” He stood behind you as Aemond placed a soft kiss on your clit, making your back arch and head loll back against Aegon’s waist, his hands rubbing your shoulders as you whimpered from Aemond’s touch. “You gonna be a good girl for us?”

“Yes, Aegon.” You breathed out, then breathing in sharply as Aemond licked up and down your folds with a groan. “Fu…”

“Mmm,” Aemond groaned, “so sweet, just like I thought.” You bit your lip as he pressed two fingers inside you, a noisy squelch giving away just how turned on you were. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Relax, or else you’ll never be able to take us.”

Aegon leaned down and started to kiss your neck, his hands reaching down to grasp at your hardened nipples. “Such a sweet girl, you’re doing so well for us, aren’t you? Taking Aemond’s fingers and tongue so well.”

You let out a borderline pornagraphic moan as Aemond thrusted his fingers inside you while flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit, Aegon’s finger roughly pinching your nipples getting you way too close way too fast. You wanted this to last so bad, but they didn’t show any signs of stopping and you weren’t about to stop them either. “Are you close already, beautiful?” Aemond asked, and you nodded. “Do you wanna come so soon? I can stop if you’d like.” He teased, sensing how desperate you must’ve been.

“No, no, please, Aemy, please. Please, I wanna come so bad. Please, let me come.” You sobbed.

“Didn’t even have to ask you to beg for it. Good girl. Come for me. Come on my fuckin’ fingers.”

You let out a strangled whine as your first orgasm washed over you, your whole body tensing and relaxing as your pussy contracted around Aemond’s fingers, your clit throbbing intensely as his tongue bullied it expertly. “Such a good girl.” You heard Aegon say, his voice sounding far away as you came down from your high.

“Did you like that, baby?” Aemond asked, palming his cock through his sweatpants. Did he even need to ask? “Aegon, you should have a taste too.” Your eyes widened, knowing how sensitive you are after you come. You wouldn’t be able to handle it. But that didn’t seem to matter to them, as Aegon quickly knelt to the floor, burying his face and tongue in your cunt, making you squeal.

“Fuck!” Aegon purred into you, fucking your pussy with his tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in overstimulation, your mouth open wide practically drooling. Aemond took advantage of that, pulling his cock from his trousers and guiding it gently into your awaiting mouth, taking him eagerly.

“Damn, baby, your mouth feels so fuckin’ good, fuck…” Aemond groaned, restraining himself and making sure he didn’t fuck your face too hard, although you didn’t seem to mind. You were slobbering and moaning on his cock, the slight vibrations making his dick twitch from how good it felt, having to pull out before he released too early. “Need to feel that pussy around my cock.”

“I’m not fuckin’ done here.” Aegon growled, determined to make you come on his mouth.

“She’s too sensitive, she won’t be able to.” That comment from Aemond only seemed to spur him on.

“Are you doubting my abilities, brother?” You had to cover your mouth from screaming when Aegon started to suck on your clit, making you arch your back and twitch against him, not sure if you were trying to get away or push him closer. And you couldn’t believe it, but you were getting closer to another orgasm. Aegon’s mouth sloppily kissing and sucking your clit was too much, it was painful but you didn’t want it to stop.

You were writhing in your chair, Aemond having to hold you down so you didn’t fall off or hurt yourself in any way, the force of his hands holding you making your orgasm rise quickly burst out of you like a fountain, spraying onto Aegon’s face, who was grinning like Cheshire Cat. “Fuck, that was so sexy, darling. If I thought you could handle it, I’d make you do that again.”

“Please, don’t…” You chuckled breathlessly.

“Think you’ll be able to handle something else, then?” You nodded meekly. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we?”

Aegon and Aemond led you on wobbly legs to your bedroom, kissing all over your body wherever there was naked flesh. Already two orgasms in, you were sensitive all over, your skin tingling and tickling from their kisses. You could feel each of their hard, throbbing cocks grinding against you. You reached out blindly, not knowing whose you touched until you heard Aegon groan. “Fuck, darling, you drive me crazy. Think you can take us?”

“Anything you want.” You moaned as Aemond cupped your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking harshly.

“I want to fuck that tight cunny of yours.” Aegon growled, flipping you over onto your stomach, making you face Aemond, his cock intimidatingly erect. You instinctively licked your lips, wrapping them just over the head of his cock, making him moan. You whined when you felt Aegon push into you slowly, his thick cock stretching your channel so deliciously, feeling every ridge and vein. You had to come off Aemond’s dick when Aegon bottomed out, your face contorting in pleasure. He wasn’t as long as Aemond, but he was so incredibly thick and you could tell you were going to be sore in the morning. “Gods, so wet and tight for me. You alright, love?”

“Yes.” You moaned, trying your best to suck Aemond off properly, your spit and drool running down your chin and drenching his balls. “Fuck!” You shouted as Aegon started a steady pace, the blunt tip of his cock hitting your cervix over and over. “So…deep…feels so good, Aegon.”

“Doing so well, like you were made for this.” Aemond moaned, starting to fuck your face gently, your gags and tears spilling from you spurring him on further. You probably thought you looked like a mess, but you were beautiful to him. To both of them. The way your brows furrowed when they went too deep, your face slightly red with blush and exertion, the pretty noises you made; they were cuntstruck.

“Fuck, gods, no, not yet.” Aegon grunted, his cock twitching inside of you. “Your pussy feels too good.” He moaned, wanting to slow down but ultimately pistoned into you with a force that made you surge forward and gag on Aemond’s cock deeper. Aegon let out a beautiful low groan as he came inside you, his hot sticky cum painting your inner walls white.

Before you could do anything, Aemond was pushing Aegon out of the way, quickly replacing Aegon’s cock with his, filling you to the brim immediately, causing you to cry out. “Her pussy’s that good, huh?” Aemond taunted, groaning loudly as he fucked you like he was trying to break you.

“Yes.” Aegon answered simply, laying next to you, lazily stroking his cock as he watched your facial expressions, wanting to get hard again. “Such a pretty girl.” He kissed you passionately, paired with Aemond’s thrusts made your head spin.

“Gods, I could fuck this pussy forever…” Aemond moaned, pushing the small of your back into the bed, forcing you to arch your back for him, his cock hitting deeper and deeper.

“Please…!” You whined obnoxiously, making the boys chuckle. You felt so out of it, the only thing registering was how good Aemond’s cock was making you feel. “Fuck! Ah!” You sobbed, feeling your uterus contract, another powerful orgasm starting to bubble up inside you.

“Can I fuck you again, darling?” Aegon asked softly, his cock already hard again and ready for you.

“No way, not now, not when I’m so fuckin’ close.” Aemond growled, keeping his body hunched over you protectively.

“I didn’t say you had to stop. If she’ll let me, I’d like to use that other tight hole of hers.” Your eyes widened, a deep pang of arousal surging through you like lightning at the thought of being so thoroughly filled by both of the men you loved. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable-”

“Yes.”

“Uh, are you sure-?”

“Yes, Aegon! Please! I want you both to fuck me at the same time.”

Aegon smirked, looking at Aemond. “Well, you heard the lady.”

Aemond positioned himself under you so that you could ride him, while Aegon got behind you, grabbing a bottle of lube and applied some to your puckered hole generously, pushing a finger in slowly. You whimpered at the stretch, clenching around Aemond’s cock, causing him to grab your hips roughly. “Relax.” Then Aegon added another finger, then another, trying to match his girth to make sure you were prepared for him.

“Are you ready, pretty girl?”

“Please, Aegon.” You threw your head back against Aegon’s shoulder as he started to push in, the lube and the way he prepped you making it a not too terrible stretch. You could feel a stomach ache coming on, but gods, you didn’t want this to ever end. “Fuck…” You sobbed as he started to thrust into you gently, Aemond doing the same.

You never thought you’d pass out during sex, you couldn’t possibly believe it could feel that good. But these men proved you wrong, and you felt like you could collapse at any moment. You felt like a boneless fish, at the mercy of Aemond and Aegon, each thrusting with abandon, passing you back and forth like a game of tennis. All you could do was hang on for the ride and take it, moaning like a pornstar was all you had to put your energy in, not like you could help it.

Your third and most powerful orgasm came over you suddenly, wracking your body with chills and spasms, yelling so loud you were pretty sure you’d get noise complaints from your neighbors. But you couldn’t care less, with how amazing you felt, it was like an out of body experience. “Good fuckin’ girl, taking both our cocks so well.” Aegon moaned, kissing and biting your shoulder. “Fuck, gonna come again.”

“Me too.” Aemond moaned, “You want our cum deep inside both your holes, hm?”

“Yes, Aemond, yes! Come in me, please…” Both Aegon and Aemond let out deep groans, filling up both your holes with their cum, making you feel so full and complete. They both pulled out of you slowly, gently laying you down in between them on the bed. You shifted uncomfortably when you felt their cum leaking out of you, making a mess of your thighs and sheets. But it didn’t matter when they both cuddled up against you, making you feel so safe and secure.

“Are you okay, baby?” Aemond asked, caressing your cheek.

“More than okay.” You giggled, still breathless. You all were so sweaty, you’d all need a shower.

“That was amazing.” Aegon sighed, cuddling into your side like you were a teddy bear, his arm reaching over your waist while Aemond smoothed out your hair. “You were amazing.”

There was a beat where each of you just cuddled one another, steadying your breathing and taking in each other’s warmth. It was nice, almost as nice as the sex, but it didn’t stop you from thinking, “What happens now?” Your shy voice echoed in the now quiet room.

“Now?” Aegon mused. “Now, we do that again and again.”

Aemond rolled his eye at Aegon’s quip, continuing to smooth your hair down in a comforting manner. “Like we told you before, we both want you, and we’re both willing to share you. Like a polyamorous situation. We weren’t lying about how we feel about you, you know that.”

“If that’s alright with you, darling. We’d like to be your boyfriends, if you’ll have us. Our ancestor did the same thing…but the reverse…and with his sisters. So comparatively, this is normal.” Aegon chuckled.

Kissing both of their cheeks, you relaxed into their embrace. “Then yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, both of yours.” You giggled when they both started kissing your cheeks, pawing at you like they wanted to go another round. “I can’t imagine the family gatherings won’t be awkward from now on.”

“They’ve always been awkward, love, that’s nothing to worry about.”

didn't mean for it to be this long oops🙈

[maximoff-pan]

the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.” 

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens. 

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too. 

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it. 

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that. ��

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to. 

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist. 

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband. 

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children. 

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington. 

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.  

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?” 

“How will you get it to her?” He questions. 

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it. 

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered. 

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her. 

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation. 

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way. 

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in. 

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you. 

“I never do.” Is your instant reply. 

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested. 

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion. 

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through. 

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.” 

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you. 

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.” 

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that. 

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.” 

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge. 

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak. 

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won. 

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot. 

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.” 

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong. 

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you. 

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.  

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column. 

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say. 

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym. 

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to. 

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n). 

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross. 

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling. 

“What am I going to do?” 

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you. 

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.  

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has. 

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so. 

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you. 

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now. 

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions. 

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well. 

We need to talk. 

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that. 

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her. 

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you. 

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.  

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too. 

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.” 

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm. 

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor. 

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing. 

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all. 

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[readychilledwine]

can we have rhysand with an emotional reader again? maybe meetings made her feel unsupported

A Heavy Burden

Summary - After a long day of tense negotiations, Rhysand finds his wife wondering if this all was worth it.

Warnings - mental health, implied misunderstanding and communication, implied Azriel was illiterate fan theory, slight misogynistic thing when you consider the places reader was dealing with

A/n - Slowly but surely, you all are about to see the mass amount of things I have queued from old and new requests. All almost 48 and counting of them 🫠 2025 goals include getting better at getting to what is sent to me faster, along with finding a better system for requests so I'm maybe only working with 5 at a time instead of pressuring myself to put out requests instantly.

✨️Rhysand Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

The clanging of your crown in the marbled floor was the first thing that caught Rhysand's attention. The second was you sitting on the balcony in your dress, in the middle of a cold night, just being still. Today had been, for a lack of better terms, a nightmare. 

Your proposal for remodeling the Illyrian camps had been met with conflict and comments regarding if you truly had power.

Your proposal for creating a shelter system for females and children in Hewn City was met with questions of your status and abilities.

Your family dinner at home hadn't even been safe from remarks from the Inner Circle that he knew had you questioning how they saw you.

He shouldn't have been surprised by you doing this by tossing the symbol of your power aside like it was nothing. Your ideas were frequently met with debate, tension, and sometimes, his advisors screaming like children at each other. As a test, you once had him present the idea you had for it. It had been met with excitment until the passing of the paprrs was signed and stamped by you.

You had a habit of smiling in the face of adversity. Taking a gentle approach instead of using the authority he had given you. You had become the kindness to his image of cruelty. A match many felt was odd but truly made by the Cauldron for balance. You shouldered it all well, but even you, his strong wife, had a breaking point. 

Rhys moved with near silence to you, lowering himself behind you and knowing it was serious this time when you didn't make a joke over his knees popping. “Talk to me,” he murmured as he pulled you to him, wings appearing to wrap around you as if they were a shield.

You only sighed, chin resting on your knees, “I feel insufficient. I feel like no one believes in me. I feel like I'm just here as a glorified placeholder.”

Rhysand hummed, kissing the skin of your bare shoulder, “What about today do you feel made you feel that way?”

“How everything I purposed for the two areas begging the most for change was met. Illyria acknowledges that the camps are rundown. I purpose a cycle of upgrades, funded by us, by the way, that would allow the camps to be safer, warmer, and have more resources. I am told I don't understand Illyrians and what the camps need despite my plans being based on the needs given to Cassian and I.”

You took a breath, eyes shutting to relax and fight tears before continuing. “When we then spend the second portion of our day in Hewn City. I am addressing the so-called concern for female and children resources. It is meant with your uncle screaming at a more forward moving male that I'm powerless. I have no clue what females need, which is odd since I am one. Then, lastly, my proposals do not matter.”

Rhys nodded, nose buried in your hair to calm himself at the memory of everything, “Then we come home and instead of being met with support-”

“Our family tells me I need to take my heart out of things and start acting like a ruthless High Lord and stop offering mercy. That that is the only way fae will ever actually respect me."

“Thus attacking your character when you were already in a fragile state and needing support instead of, well, we will call it constructive criticism, though, I know it did not feel that way.” His voice was soft in your ear, offering that comfort you had been seeking.  “And, y/n, your heart does not need to be taken out of the conversation. Your heart is why I pursued you. It's why we are married. Why I didn't care a mating bond had landed into place yet. Your heart chose me. It is precious to me. It belongs in the decisions we, as High Lord and Lady, make.”

Another soft kiss was placed on your shoulder. Then the nape of your neck, pressing in  as if he could make every nerve in your body calm down with just the strength of his love. “I will handle Azriel and Amren,” he assured you. “Though, I do suspect Azriel realized his comment came across much harsher than intended.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, “He's 538 years old. He's been with you all and consistently speaking and socializing for over 525 years. He shouldn't continue to be coddled for his childhood illiteracy and lack of social understanding, especially when we hold a barely 21 year old Feyre to higher standards.”

You felt his shift, the deep sigh as his forehead touched the back of your neck, “He doesn't mean to be harsh with you. Please consider what he does for a living, who he is normally dealing with.”

You nodded, “But he also needs to consider time and place then.”

“He knows, trust me.” You did chuckle at that, knowing your husband was more than likely being yelled at for access to you. His calloused hand moved into the dip of your dress, stopping once it rested over your heartbeat. “This is the most beautiful thing in my world. The most important thing.” He subconsciously synced his breathing to yours, only content once the two of you were in harmony. “I know a heart can be a heavy burden, darling. I know it seems easier to shut it out right now. I know it feels like you should become more cold. I know you're hurting.”

The tears began then. Your thumb moving to wipe them away, “I just feel wearing my heart on my sleeve is counterproductive to what the Court needs-”

“The court needs more of it, actually,” he immediately stopped you, knowing where this was going. “The court as a whole needs more care and heart, Y/n. Change begins when one person cares enough to push for it, and even the smallest stone will make ripples. You have inspired me to take better control of Illyria and Hewn City. You have inspired countless in Velaris to work to help the Court's lower income families. You have inspired my heart, my darling.”

He pulled you impossibly closer, “Be glad of your big heart, y/n. Pity those who don't feel anything at all." One last soft kiss touched the back of your neck. “Come bathe with me. Let's wash today away.”

The idea had your body already relaxing as he stood, knees popping again. “Old ass male.” And there it was. A sign of you. A sign you would be okay. A sign you would fight.

“Cruel little thing,” he purred back. “Mocking my war injuries.” He pulled you up before a tendril of darkness and starlight handed him your crown. “Put this back on. You dropped it.”

[seokgyuu]

Running a little witch store in a small town, recently the only exciting thing has been Jake visiting your store every other day. While he doesn’t buy anything, his looks are enough to make your days a little less boring. And when he comes in one day, mixing up his offered tea with a very, very powerful aphrodisiac… it is about to get a lot more than just a little less boring. 

Pairing: Neighbor!Jake x Witch!Reader Genre: Porn with almost no plot, Supernatural (as reader is a witch, duh) Warnings: Jake is a bit of an idiot but hot, reader is very sarcastic… are those even warnings? Reader has female anatomy and is described as a woman, pure filth basically, MINORS DNI!!! Smut tags under the cut Word Count: 6k  A/N: Well hello! Happy Halloween everyone! My little last minute Halloween Project is done! First up, thanks to @aaagustd for the AMAZING banner!!! And my lovely @heechwe for betaing! This  work was very, highly, extremely inspired by a clears throat spicy audio that was uploaded literally last night. Could not stop imagining it to be Jake who this happens to… so here we are. The creator’s name is AugustInTheWinter, check out his Patreon or Reddit, I swear it is SO worth it if you’re into audios!! Anyway, thanks August for this inspo and thank you guys for reading! tagging my beloved @yvnempire because she's so excited about this hehe. Please leave comments and/or reblog, it would mean the absolute world! Wanna support me? Here's my Ko-Fi!

Smut Tags: Big dick!Jake, Jake starts nervous and a bit subby, but turns into a beast, handjob, blowjob, face-fucking, facial, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe kids!!), multiple orgasms, loads of cum (like really… so much), dirty talk, degradation (words used: whore, slut, hole, fucktoy etc.) cumplay, cum eating, tell me if i missed anything!

Everything about this town was boring. 

The scenery was boring. The activities were boring. The people were boring.

Just… everything. 

Your coven had sent you here because of the apparent magical aura you so, as they said, “desperately needed to achieve your full potential”. Bullshit, for all you cared. The magical aura might have been strong, but it was so deeply rooted into the earth, you had trouble reaching it even after hours of channeling your own powers. Of course, you didn’t tell them that. All they knew was that you were having a blast in this shithole of a town and had already made tons of friends. 

So far no one had questioned your answers and so you just lived your life, hoping you would soon succeed in attaining the magical power of this place and go back to your normal life. 

Recently, though, you at least had something a little less boring gracing you every other day. Jake Sim - the neighbor from across the street. He was handsome and a little shy and very obviously did not believe magic existed. Not that you cared much about that, no, you had been exposed to many people who didn’t believe in you and your kind, not to mention all the other supernatural beings walking on the face of earth. 

Jake was a non-believer and wonderful to look at and you were fine with that. Content. More than happy. 

As you were brewing some potions a few of the older women around town had ordered (while they also didn’t exactly believe in magic, they at least believed in your ability to brew things that were extremely efficient in their gardens), you found yourself thinking about the pretty man again. About his laugh and his eyes, about the way his shirt would rise up and show a bit of his happy trail leading down to something you could only wish to see fully exposed one day. 

Truthfully, the last time you got laid had been ages ago. So long that you couldn’t even really remember who it was with and where. It was a curse, this town, and seeing a young attractive man stalking into your store a few weeks back had suddenly brought back the desire you had managed to suppress for who knows how long. 

Just then, as you were deep in thought, cutting up some lavender, the door opened and the little bell above it rang, bringing you back to the present. 

“Hi Y/N!” 

Jake had his puppy smile on, hair blown out of his face and a thick coat hanging off his shoulders. He walked over to the counter and you smiled up at him, catching yourself finding his flushed cheeks extremely endearing.

“Jake, welcome. Anything I can do for you today or are just here for another chat about how magic can’t be real?” You tilted your head and gave him a playful smile that he answered with a little laugh.

“Actually, I did come for something today. Mrs. Bloodstean said you have some great tonics for flowers?”

Ah, yes, Mrs, Bloodstean, the woman three houses down who had trouble with her roses. You had helped her and now her roses bloomed all year round. 

“I do indeed, Mr. Sim. What can I get for you?”

“Well, I’ve been having some troubles with my Mandevillas… they don’t seem to wanna bloom as much as, uh, I would like them to.”

His sheepish grin would have made your knees weak if you’d been standing. You nodded and got up, checking the shelves behind you for the potion he’d need to get his flowers to grow and bloom as much as he liked. Eyes roaming over the different bottles, you soon came to the realization you were out and clicked your tongue.

“Seems like I’ll have to brew one. That’s gonna take a couple minutes, do you want some tea while you wait?”

Jake nodded yes and smiled, turning around to do this usual routine through the rows of shelves in your store. From a safe distance, he began to watch you do your thing, cutting up ingredients and throwing them into a miniature cauldron Jake couldn’t help but be amused by. A witch store in the middle of this small town, run by one of the most attractive women Jake had ever laid his eyes on. 

When he had first stumbled in here, he had mistaken it for an alternative medicine shop. While he wasn’t totally wrong, he also wasn’t fully correct. You did offer some remedies and lotions, some potions and tonics, but you also had crystals and salts and books in your many high rising wooden shelves. The first day, he had spent hours just browsing through the books, not thinking of actually buying anything, but somehow being immersed into this world of magic he was so sure could only exist in fiction. 

He hadn’t even noticed someone working at the front behind the counter until he turned to leave, almost stumbling over his feet when he spotted you. You concentrated on a page in an old looking book, biting down onto your tongue that was slightly sticking out of your mouth. You with the prettiest face he had ever seen, that made it so hard to look away. 

After that, he came back every other day, hoping to talk to you, get to know you and maybe ask you out on a date. Of course, he never did because if Jake was anything it was a coward. It didn’t matter that he somehow happened to be handsome, his charisma was in the trenches. 

It was obvious he didn’t see the effect he had on you, which made it even more fun to have him around in your store. You could sense that this man did not have one indecent thought about you while in the store, even when you wore low cut shirts or skirts with slits almost as high as your hip. No, he was a good boy, a sweet boy. The contrast of the two of you was almost comical - you thinking about what it would be like to feel him, to taste him, to push him against a bookshelf and have your way with him and Jake just wanting to man up to ask you out. 

Circling back to the front, Jake saw you hard at work and decided to fill his tea cup by himself, the steaming blue teapot on the right side of the counter. Smiling, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, his eyes widening at the sweet taste. 

God, that’s delicious!

The hotness of the drink seemed to fade into the background as the taste spread on his tongue, so sweet and wonderful his eyes almost rolled back, the liquid making his whole body feel warm and fuzzy, and without even noticing he finished the whole cup in one go. 

“Wow, that tea is amazing! What kind is it? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.” Jake put the cup back down and beamed at you. 

Blinking, you looked up at the brown-haired man, your mind a little slow at catching up with what Jake said. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, brows furrowing slightly.

“The tea you made me, what kind is it?” He repeated, pointing at the teapot next to him. 

Your eyes widened for a brief moment, then you slowly got up.

“How much did you drink of that?” You asked calmly. 

“A whole cup, it’s like so, so good, how-,”

“A whole cup?!” The volume of your voice surprised both of you and Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth dropping open a little.

“Was that- was I not supposed to? I- I’m sorry, you seemed busy, so I just helped myself.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds. Watching Jake’s confused face, trying to read his thoughts. He had absolutely no idea what he just drank. But you did. 

A grin found its way onto your lips, a grin so diabolical it made Jake’s stomach turn. 

“That’s not your tea, Jakey,” you said, pointing at the teapot he drank from, “your tea is over here.”

Jake followed where your finger pointed next, a small black teapot standing to your left, all done with a cute little pink cup next to it. He blinked a few times.

“Then- then what is this?” He asked, nervousness beginning to spread through his body. Your grin deepened.

“Oh, that? That’s just the very, very powerful aphrodisiac for Mrs. Brown’s husband. See, he can’t really get it up anymore.”

Silence. Jake felt like the whole world had suddenly gone silent at your words. But then he remembered where he was, who you were and how incredibly unlikely it was that this really worked. So, he snorted.

“Right. An aphrodisiac in the form of tea, I’m sure that’s gonna work wonders with Mr. Brown.”

“Not just him, but you too, you know,” you began to walk around the counter, stopping when you reached the other side, leaning against it with crossed arms, “and you’re only supposed to drink one sip of it. You, dear Jakey, drank a whole fucking cup.”

Honestly, Jake still didn’t believe you. Or at least he thought he didn’t. But something about the way you looked at him almost made him falter. He laughed and shook his head.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. This obviously isn’t going to work, it’s a hoax, we all know it’s a hoax.”

“Is it though, Jake? Is it really a hoax?”

“What? Of course it is! Magic isn’t real, can’t be real, this tea surely won’t help Mr. Brown get an erection and I, my friend, more than anything, will not get aroused by some fake viag-,”

Oh shit. Jake couldn’t help the deep moan escaping his throat when he suddenly felt the hardest wave of pleasure hit his body. He almost dropped to his knees, his cock growing harder by the second, pressing against the seam of his jeans, making them uncomfortably tight. 

“You won’t get aroused, Jake? Yes? Is that right?” You were having the time of your life. This was better than anything you could have ever predicted. By Mystra, how could you have forgotten about the tea for Mrs. Brown? And how lucky were you for Jake to mistake it as his own? You couldn’t believe your luck. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Jake groaned now, his chest heaving and you tilted your head again, watching sweat form on the handsome man’s forehead. His pupils were blown and his face flushed and, fuck, did he look good. 

“I would say the potion is kicking in. How does it feel?” You bit your lip, watching Jake struggle to find words for what was happening inside… and outside of him.

“I- well, oh fuck, it, uhm, it feels… it feels like, like I’ve never- like it’s so.. it’s so h-hard, you know?”

“Hm, I don’t think I do. Perhaps you can show me, just so I can check if it all looks normal?”

Jake’s cock twitched at that. You wanted to see? Check if it looked normal? Another moan made its way through his lips and it sounded so utterly pathetic you felt yourself drip into your panties.

“Wh- what do you mean “normal”? C-Could it look, like, n-not normal?” He was sweating. A part of him really wanted you to see, to check, to maybe even touch him, but another felt shy, didn’t want this to happen before taking you out to a nice dinner, maybe even a movie and- 

Fuck, who was he kidding? 

“I don’t know, that’s why I wanna check. Will you show me, Jakey?” 

“F-fine, b-but only to check!” His cheeks were on fire at this point. His cheeks on fire and his cock hard as a rock, aching and throbbing and probably aggressively red at the tip. 

That last prediction proved to be correct when he pulled down his pants and briefs at once, his cock springing free, standing harder and prouder than he had ever seen it. He whimpered at the sight. 

And you? You almost fell to your knees, itching to touch him, to lick over the tip that was already leaking so, so miserably. Oh good lord. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip again and you swallowed hard, eyes glued to the huge cock Jake had been hiding from you.

“Is it- is it always this big?” You asked, not even looking into Jake’s face anymore.

“Well, n-not when it’s not, uhm, you know… h-hard.”

“So it’s this size even when no potion is involved?” You wanted to know.

“Y-yeah, that didn’t change.”

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, your hand wanting to grab around him so badly, but you contained yourself. 

“What- what can we do? Like is there an antidote? Can I- can I drink another potion? Or maybe there is, uhm, fuck, a spell or something?”

You chuckled.

“Now you believe in spells, Jakey? Funny timing,” finally, you raised your head to look at him again, “but no, there is no antidote. Like I said, it’s made to help get it up and given in a specific dose. But you, my dear, drank probably thrice as much as necessary.”

“So what does that mean? I- I can’t just go home like this!”

He was right about that. Everyone would see him sporting the largest boner known to mankind. And right now, you decided, this was only for your eyes. 

“I think the best way to deal with it is to, frankly speaking, empty it.”

Stars seemed to dance around Jake’s head when you spoke, the image of you rubbing his cock, sucking on it or even bouncing on it to empty him of all his cum… he twitched aggressively. 

“S-so, wh-what are you sug-suggesting?” His heart was speeding in chest and he was trying his hardest not to jump to conclusions. 

Yet another devilish grin spread on your lips as you raised your hand and snapped your fingers, closing the blinds of the storefront window and locking the door all at once. In any other situation, Jake would have been freaked out, but right now all he could concentrate on was the way you pushed yourself off the counter and looked at him from head to, well, problem.

“I am suggesting, Jake, that it would only be right of me to help you out.”

Jake swallowed hard, glued to where he was standing, his cock still so unbelievably hard, still aching and throbbing and in desperate need of attention. 

As you lowered yourself, knees soon hitting the wooden floor, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Do you want me to help you out?”

“God, yes, please.”

And there it was. All that you needed to finally bring your hand to his cock. He immediately moaned, head falling back as his hips moved forward, thrusting into your grip. You chuckled as you slowly began to move, bringing your thumb to his tip, gathering all of the already leaking precum to use as lubricant. 

It already brought you immense pleasure, jerking him off. Staring up at him, seeing nothing but pure lust and desperation on his face. You were throbbing between your legs, wetness building up more every passing moment. 

“Fuuuuuck, yeah, j-just like that, oh wow.” 

Jake felt like he had never been touched like this before. Every bit of friction against his skin was like the first time. Every inch you touched with your hand was burning, sparkling with something he could only describe as magic. He couldn’t stop the desperate moans even if he tried, couldn’t stop his hips chasing your hand, thrusting into it like a mad man. 

“Faster, please!” He cried out and you obeyed, speeding up your hand. Your eyes were glued to his cockhead then, watching how precum kept leaking, drips landing on your floor or the briefs that were hanging around his ankles with his jeans. 

You worked your hand faster, having trouble closing it around his big shaft and finally adding the second, working him at double speed with his cockhead still peaking out. 

God, how would he feel inside you? 

Two hands around his cock and Jake could sense a first orgasm approaching. He thrusted his hips, fucking both of your hands, eyes rolled back into his skull, the pleasure completely taking over.

“Yeah, yeah, just like that, fuck, fuck, I am fucking your hands so good, shit!” He didn’t know where to put his energy, switching between moaning and whining and saying his incoherent thoughts out loud, feeling himself leak onto your hands. He wondered what you’d do when he came, if you’d just let him come right onto you or if you’d point it elsewhere. 

“Feel good, Jakey? You look so hot, so, so good for me.” You stared up at him, batting your eyelashes and finally Jake looked down at you, his spit catching in his throat. You looked insane with his cock in your hands, your face wild and determined, a small grin on your lips that made his cock twitch once more. The whimper escaping him must have been the single most arousing thing you had ever heard. 

“I’m gonna come, I’m s-so close,” he cried and you nodded, licking over your lips.

“Yeah, come for me, wanna see you come, Jakey.”

When he had said yes to you helping him out, he sure as hell had not expected dirty talk to be involved and, shit, was he happy it was. His mouth fell open wider, eyes glossy and focused on your face. He knew it was going to be a lot, knew he’s going to shoot the biggest load of his life onto you in a few heartbeats.

“C-Coming, oh- shit!” 

When he came, he came. Cum spurted out his cock, and you didn’t even think about letting a drop go to waste. The first load landed on your neck and collarbones, dripped down your cleavage and over your breasts, the second you managed to catch with your tongue slurping it down like a five-star meal. The third landed on your cheeks and chin, some on your neck, joining his already left mark. 

Jake truly couldn’t believe his eyes. You, the woman he had been thinking about asking out for weeks now, covered in and eating his cum. Another little bit of cum dribbled out his cock and you caught it perfectly with the tip of your tongue, causing Jake to groan desperately. 

He was still so fucking hard. Still desperate for more.

“I need more, I’m still so hard, please.” His pleasing eyes and slightly trembling lips made the picture in front of you perfect. Jake, big cock full on display, still hard from the potion he had drank by pure accident, his first orgasm so powerful he had shot three loads onto you, was now begging you for more. 

And you were more than eager to make every wish of his come true. 

“Since you said please…,” you grinned, leaning forward, not giving a damn about the seed currently drying on your skin, and flicking your tongue against his tip, his hand almost immediately moving to grip the back of your head.  “God, yes, yes, please take it into your mouth, fuck, please!”

His wish was your command. 

Your lips closed around his tip, sucking on it just slightly, tongue gliding over his sensitive slit, tasting his bittersweet taste, wondering if maybe the potion had altered something about it. Next, you moved your head forward, taking more of him into your mouth, feeling the veins of his cock press against your tongue. A moan erupted through you, the arousal almost too much to bear at this point. 

“Ohhhh, god, yes, take it, take it deeper, shit.” His hips moved, pushing more of him into your mouth. He seemed to vibrate, seemed to fit perfectly into your wet heat, tip hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag, spit dripping from his shaft down to the floor. Your hands grabbed the back of his thighs, steading yourself as he began to thrust down your throat. 

“Holy fuck, that’s right, gag on my cock, gag on it, fuck.”

It must have been the potion speaking because he wasn’t usually this vocal. But then again, he had never had anyone take his cock down their throat as well as you were doing right now. Gagging and spitting and tearing up, but nothing in your face showed discomfort. No, you were thriving on this and Jake felt your arousal in the air, felt it mixing with his and he sped up his hips, both hands now holding your head in place as he let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard. 

He shoved you down his cock completely now, his balls hitting your chin as he fucked your mouth like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Drool mixed with his precum dribbled down your chin, tears began to stream down your face, your eyes rapidly blinking as you watched him lose all of his composure. You wished to keep this memory engraved into your brain for all of your life.

Jake was in a rush, in a complete trance, fucking down your throat, feeling your tongue against his shaft, your throat restricting around him, your gags and chokes turning him on even more. Somehow, with every thrust closer to his release, he felt the tension rise up more. 

What the fuck even was in that potion? 

It hit him then, his second orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier, quicker, accompanied by desperate moans, whimpers and groans. 

You managed to swallow it all, the load just as huge as during his first orgasm, shot after shot down your throat, your eyes growing wide while you sucked him dry, or at least attempted to.

“Swallow it all, yes, yes, fuck, come on, come on! Take it all, I know you want to, fuck!” 

There was no control left in his body, the potions effect taking over completely. 

He emptied his cock into your mouth and pulled out when he at least thought it was over, only for another wave to hit him and land on your skin again. He felt like an artist painting an already perfect canvas with his own visions. 

“S-sorry, fuck,” He breathed hard, watching you slowly get up, your face wild and stained with his seed as well as your own tears. Your eyes were red, pupils blown and with every gaze you shared, he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He swallowed and looked down, seeing his cock still hard, still throbbing and aching. Would this ever end?

“I need more, need more,” he mumbled, stumbling forward and grabbing your hips roughly. You moaned at his touch, your fingers gliding over your chest to pick up some of his cum and shove it into your mouth, sucking them clean. He swore under his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, Jakey?” You asked then, voice sweet like honey, but body looking so breathtakingly filthy. 

“Want to, need to, have to,” he replied, moving to lick some of his own cum off your neck. You moaned at that surprising action, pussy throbbing and dripping. Without another thought, you dipped forward, pressing your lips against his. He kissed you back right away, tongue shoving into your mouth and he could taste himself even more on your tongue. His hands ripped open the corset-dress you were wearing, freeing your tits from their prison and immediately moving to grab them.

You hopped onto the counter then, pulling him closer, legs hooking around his waist. He kissed you hungrily, tongue and teeth and spit and hotness all mixed together. You shoved his coat off his shoulders and opened the buttons of his shirt, but he stopped you.

“No time, need to be inside you now.” He basically growled, fingers simultaneously finding your panties and ripping them off of you just like he had your dress. You spread your legs further, ready for him, more ready than you had ever been. 

Jake knew he had reached heaven right then. Grabbing his cock and bringing it to your drenched pussy, pushing into your awaiting entrance and feeling you grip him, pulling him closer. He cried out, whimpered into your ear and continued to suck on your skin, cleaning you off of his seed all while working to bottom out.

And when he was finally buried to the hilt, he only paused for a second to take it all in, before beginning to fuck into you at a brutal pace. Your fingers clawed into his shoulders, mouth dropping open as your head tipped back and high pitched moans crawled out of your throat over and over. 

“So fucking tight, taking me so fucking well, such a dirty fucking slut.” Jake bit your neck and you cried out once more, your whole body shaking with pleasure as he continued to fuck you. There was nothing you could compare to what was happening right now. No one had ever fucked you as good, as hard and as fulfilling as Jake. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, Jake pulled out of you and grabbed your waist, heaving you off the counter only to spin your around and push you down onto it, your ass up in the air.

“Sorry, need to fuck you like this.”

Back in he went - full speed, full force. The counter shook under you and you gasped when he began to thrust. His cock dragged against your walls, split you open so beautifully it felt like you were going to burst. You threw your ass back at him, clawing at the edge of the counter, eyes falling shut as you let yourself enjoy the way he drilled into you.

There was a high chance Jake was going to grow addicted to this feeling. Never had he ever had sex as good as this and perhaps this was courtesy of the potion - or maybe it was just you. You with the perfect pussy, the perfect mouth, the perfect hands. Everything about you seemed to heighten his arousal, seemed to get him closer from the edge all while pushing him even further away from it. 

He could do this for hours, fuck you until he came, spill his seed in you over and over, watch how it spilled out. God, he wanted to see your pussy stuffed with his cum so bad. Watching his cock slip in and out of you, hearing the noises you made, it was almost too much.

“You’re my perfect little hole, aren’t you? Just made to be fucked like this,” he couldn’t help himself, grabbing your hips even rougher and spitting down to make it even wetter. Not that that was really necessary. You were dripping down his cock as well as your own thighs and Jake swore he would never recover. 

“Fuck, Jake!” You cried out, hip trying desperately to move while he held you, eyes opening only to roll back as your orgasm hit you like a brutal wave.

“Shit, are you gonna come on my cock, slut?” Jake saw red as he felt your pussy spasm around him, pulling him even deeper, squeezing him for all he had, wanting to milk him dry of his load. 

And who was he to deny such a request?

“Come inside me, Jake, please, please, please!”

You had sensed his orgasm and he let out a growl, finally filling your pussy with his load just as you hit your second high right after the first. Once again, it didn’t stop, it just kept on coming, his cum landing inside you and already dripping out as he fucked both of you through your orgasms, filthy sounds filling the air next to both of your moans and groans and pleads for more. 

Jake had expected to be done after three, but no, he was still hard, and so he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, standing up straighter as he picked up the speed once more.

“Need another one, baby, just one more, fuck, m-maybe two, I just- fuck, I am so hard, I need to fuck you more, wanna fuck you all night, need to fuck your pussy.”

There was nothing left in his brain except for the need to come, for the need to fuck you. He was like an animal during heat, felt like he was going to explode. His cock was so incredibly sensitive, hurting even at this point, but it was addictive, you were addictive. Just the thought of not being inside of you anymore filled him with something close to agony. 

“Y-yes, fu-fuck me Jake, your cock feels so good, s-so big!”

At this point you could have taken the potion yourself judging by how you were feeling and talking. Normally, you were the one in charge, the one on top. But with Jake? You enjoyed being in his hands like this, enjoyed being used by him for his pleasure. You wanted him to fill you up, to split you open, to do with you whatever the hell he wanted. 

“God, yes, like my big cock fucking you open like that? Such a good behaved little whore, isn’t that right?” He found himself slapping your ass, and judging by your reaction that had been the exactly right thing to do. He groaned when he felt you squeeze him again, both hands back to holding your hands in place.

He lost himself in you. Lost himself in the pleasure. And you lost yourself in him and the need to have him fill you up again and again. 

His fourth orgasm made his cock soften a little. He filled you to the brim, watched the majority drip down your legs, forming a little puddle to your feet and he licked his lips, letting go of your hands and pulling out of you, turning you back around and placing you back on top of the counter. 

“Lean back,” he ordered and you did as wanted, eyes wide and pussy throbbing from the last orgasm a few seconds ago. 

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him position himself between your legs. He grabbed his cock and placed it in between your lips - to thrust in between them, cockhead repeatedly hitting your clit. You gasped, body jerking forward.

“Wanna paint your whole body with my cum, stay still.” His big hands grabbed your hips, pinning you to the counter as he began to thrust his cock over your pussy, the friction already enough to almost make him come again. 

“Mhmm, y-yes, f-feels good!” You cried and he grinned, continuing his spiel like a madman. 

“You’re so sexy, so fucking sexy, baby.” He breathed out, his brain slowly but surely coming back to him. And when he heard that little noise you apparently always made before you came (if he could trust the two orgasms from earlier), he felt himself reach the edge as well. 

Your head fell back when you felt the next orgasm hit and your pussy ached for more when his next load landed all over your stomach, even reaching as far as your tits, painting you just like he had wanted. 

The canvas was finished.

But Jake wasn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, so sorry, I need to-,” his head was fuming red, and he moved back a little, just to dip his cock back into your spent pussy and you fell flat onto your back, your head hanging over the counter. 

He fucked you like a ragdoll, like a toy, like he didn’t even really acknowledge you were still there. He pressed down onto your stomach and sped up, tried to fuck you deeper. He imagined he could feel his cock through your skin, imagined he could see himself fucking you just like that. 

“S-so deep!” You cried out and he looked at you, at your body, and nodded, watching now how your tits jumped at every thrust. They were stained with his cum as well and he hoped he would never forget this image. 

“One more, promise, just one more, my perfect little fucktoy, yeah?”

His words were so filthy, so desperate and full of need, they made your pussy spasm again, made you grip him hard over and over again. 

“That’s it, fuck! Gonna come, gonna come, shit, sh-shit! Take my cum, take it, yes, yes!” He was in a spiral downwards, then back up and back down - his last orgasm hitting him like a fucking brick, yet another load landing inside your pussy - one, two, three. His cock twitched and twitched and finally began to soften. 

When he pulled out, he fell backwards, landing on the floor, his eyes wide and his ass hurting. 

The potion slowly lost its grip on him, his normal, coherent thoughts coming back all while he was getting down from his many, many highs. 

You pulled yourself up in exhaustion, your chest heaving. When you sat up straight again, you couldn’t help but chuckle at Jake on the floor. 

“Need a hand?” You asked, carefully jumping off the counter and finding that your legs were nothing but mere jelly. Quickly, you grabbed onto the edges of the surface and found your balance again.

“I- I-,” Jake began to stutter, his eyes probably the size of saucers by now. You grinned.

“You?” You raised a brow. Jake’s face turned crimson.

“I- I’m sorry, I-,”

“You’re apologizing? For what? The best sex I’ve ever had?” You snorted, “No, Jakey, no need to apologize.” 

Jake bit the inside of his cheeks. Best sex you’ve ever had? While he wanted to feel proud, he wasn’t so sure if that really had been him having sex with you or if the potion had a mind of its own. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” you moved forward now, stretching your hand out for Jake to take, “the potion only strengthens what’s already there. It doesn’t change your personality, it just makes you give less fucks.”

Had you read his mind? Jake cleared his throat and nodded slowly, before taking your hand and letting you help him up. 

Only then, when he was standing so close to you again, did he realize you were still covered in his seed. He turned even redder.

“Oh, right.” You giggled, closing your eyes and once again snapping your fingers. 

Immediately, you were clean of his cum and back in your dress - which had also magically repaired itself. Jake also found himself back in his briefs and jeans, his coat safely hanging over the counter. His mouth dropped.

“You-,”

“Are an actual witch, correct, Sherlock.” You winked at him and walked back to the other side of the counter, “Now, do you still need that potion?”

Jake stared at you for a second.

“Y-yes,” he mumbled, watching as you quickly finished the preparations. He didn’t dare say anything, his heart beating at triple speed and his brain working overtime. He had just fucked you. For like… a good while. And he didn’t even have your phone number.

“There you go,” you smiled and carefully shoved the bottle with the potion over the counter, “just pour a few drops over your flowers tonight. You should already see some results in the morning.”

“Th-thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, Jakey. You already paid me enough.” You said cheekily and Jake found himself choking on his own spit.

When he walked out he regretted not asking you for your number. Or if you wanted to go on a date. 

But that night, when he got ready to put the potion to its use, he saw a little note stuck to the label he hadn’t seen before.

Tomorrow, 8 o’clock at your place. I promise I’ll bring wine that won’t make you wanna fuck me for hours. It’s a date! Also here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxx. See you tomorrow, loverboy!

Jake found himself laughing out loud. 

And while he did his work in the garden, he thought that just because the wine wouldn’t be the reason, he sure as hell would not mind fucking you for hours at least twice every day for the rest of his life.

[fatherbrat]

every bone in your body knows you shouldn’t invite him in.

it’s a good thing you’re thinking with your clit!

kuroo is smirking when you open your front door, that smug all-knowing expression sitting pretty on his face. you barely even manage to get him inside before you’re all over each other. 

“missed me?” he breathes between kisses, but you don’t respond, too preoccupied with getting him to your bedroom without losing skin-to-skin contact or bumping into any furniture.

your shirt’s already been discarded somewhere between the living room and the laundry room. his hands are making quick work of unzipping your shorts, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder why you bothered wearing clothes anyways. you both know there’s only one reason you’d invite him over after dark.

when you sit on the edge of your bed you’re annoyed to find him wearing a belt. you pause briefly, silently questioning why he chose to forgo the typical sweats. reading your mind, kuroo explains. “i came straight here from work.” it isn’t until then you notice the black button-up he’s also wearing—the mandated uniform you both share.

it’s the perfect reality check. isn’t this exactly why you had to leave your last serving job? it’s never a good idea to fuck your coworkers. you pull back, resting your hands in your lap.

“this isn’t a good idea. you should go home. i’m sorry i texted.” you glance up at him, only to be surprised at the pitying look he’s giving you.

he kneels in front of you, his unbuckled belt clinking at the movement. all of his previous smugness has been washed away, replaced with a specific kind of anguish. you don’t bother thinking about whether it’s genuine or not. does it matter? his hands find your knees, rubbing gentle circles with each thumb.

“but you texted me for a reason right?” his voice is soft. imploring. desperate.

he’s looking up at you like a starving man, begging for a morsel. he pushes your knees apart gently, stopping halfway and catching your eyes again, a silent plea.

you only hesitate for a moment before nodding. you already fucked this particular coworker. would be a shame to stop now!

he wastes no time, fingers hooking the waistband of your shorts and your underwear almost immediately.

“lift your hips for me, baby.” you obey, and are rewarded with a lingering kiss to your inner thigh.

“i promise i’ll do all the work from here.” another kiss. “just relax, okay?” kiss. “i’m gonna take my time.”

you gasp when his mouth finds your clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles. you can feel him smiling against your skin at your reaction, but he doesn’t say anything, just continues his painfully slow ministrations. 

you have half a mind to dig your fingers into his hair and yank his face closer. but you don’t, not in the mood for whatever snarky comment he might throw your way in response.

kuroo can sense your impatience before you say anything anyway. your fingertips pressing into his scalp speak volumes. he slips two of his fingers inside you, curling them up against your g-spot. 

the sensation has your back arching up off the bed. kuroo doesn’t miss a beat, laying his free hand on your stomach and lowering you back down onto the bed. 

his mouth never leaves your cunt, licking and sucking and slurping until that familiar tautness takes over your muscles.

“fuck,” you hiss. “tetsu, i think i’m gonna—“

he already knows. his fingers brush your g-spot one more time before he pulls them out of you and replaces them with his tongue, his nose nudging your clit. 

you scream his name as you come, pulling him deeper into your cunt as a stream of fluid erupts from you. you’re all tingly by the time you let him come up for air. 

kuroo’s beaming at you when he pulls away, the bottom half his face wet and glistening. 

“i love when you do that,” he says, licking his lips as he tugs his pants down. 

you roll your eyes as you scoot up the bed, but the action seems tamer than usual post-orgasm. kuroo only smiles wider, shifting his attention to unbuttoning his shirt before he climbs onto the bed with you. 

he’s already hard, tapping his tip on your sticky clit. “let’s make a bet.”

you tilt your head to the side and raise an eyebrow. “what kind of bet?”

“if i can make you squirt again tonight, you have to work my shift tomorrow night.”

it takes everything in you not to laugh. “and if you can’t?”

kuroo shrugs. “i’ll work your next shift. and i’ll give you all the tips i make that night. it’ll be like pto.”

he stops tapping, just letting his cock rest against you. the two of you share a look when you twitch. you both know you’re going to lose. 

“deal.”

[earthtooz]

x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+ﾟ

in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.

warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.

a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!

“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.

“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 

“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.

“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”

Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”

“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”

You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.

“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”

“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”

Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 

Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.

“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”

“Really?”

“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”

She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.

“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”

“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”

“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”

“Will he fly away too?”

“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”

She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.

“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”

Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.

“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”

“Oh? What’d she say?”

Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”

“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”

“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”

His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.

“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”

Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.

“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”

“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”

“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“

“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”

“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”

“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 

He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 

Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.

“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 

Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 

You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.

Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”

“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[dreamsteddie]

Stretch Zone Part 2

Hi everybody! I'm back with the next part of my Yoga Steve Steddie AU. I've decided to call it Stretch Zone as a bit of a teacher joke 😅

Still not sure where this is going or if it will go further, but I will be officially starting a tag list after this installment so if you want to be added let me know if the comments or tags.

Part 1

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Despite his best efforts, Robin does not come with him next week to Chrissy’s yoga class. He tried to tell her, many times, that Chrissy was totally into her but she was impervious to his completely air-tight proof.

“She asked if I was your boyfriend and totally lit up when I said I wasn’t. She totally wants to get with you, Robbie”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, that is not proof of anything.”

So he came alone this week. Mostly, it’s the same thing as the first class but instead of introductions, they just get right into the exercises. Chrissy is a good teacher. Kind, patient, and always giving alternative ways to do the poses for people who want more or less difficulty. Of all the girls Robin has liked, she’s definitely Steve’s favorite and he’s determined to play wingman.

Chrissy always leaves enough time after class for everyone to mill around and clear up their stuff, which leaves Steve plenty of time to meddle.

“Hey Chrissy!” he calls out, jogging a little to reach her before any of the vultures do. Chrissy is a cute girl and he thinks more than one of the guys here are more interested in her than mindfulness. Probably some of the girls, too. “I wanted to thank you for the links you sent me. This mat is much better than the one they loaned me at the desk.” He says a little louder than is probably necessary, but he wants the vultures to hear and think that he’s already got an in with the pretty blond.

“Oh, no problem Steve, I was happy to help,” she says. She really is tiny, he finds himself thinking. Steve himself isn’t the tallest guy around but she has to tilt her head all the way up to look him in the eye. She’s going to look so cute next to Robin, speaking of which. “I didn’t see Robin this week. Was she not able to make it?” Steve once again curses Robin’s stubborn streak. Chrissy was very clearly hoping to see the other girl today.

“Nah, she decided it wasn’t for her. I don’t know if you saw, but she’s kind of clumsy,” Steve admits. “She told me to say hi though. She’s always talking about how great your ideas are for your writing class. I think she said something about peer editing? I don’t know,” he says with faux nonchalance. Robin most certainly did not ask him to pass on a hello and she would be mortified to know that the previously anonymous peer edits she submitted for Chrissy’s last paper are not so anonymous anymore. Steve would feel bad, Robin was definitely effusive with her praise, but if he’s right about this whole situation then Robin will thank him later.

“Oh! Robin was my editor last week? I didn’t know that! That review was so thoughtful and kind I was wondering who it was. I’ll have to thank her in class tomorrow,” she says with a bright, excited smile.

Robin is going to owe him big time.

Mission accomplished, Steve becomes aware that he’s taken up a good chunk of Chrissy’s time and there is a small pod of people awkwardly loitering around, probably waiting to ask questions that are actually yoga-related. One guy in particular is boring holes into Steve’s head like it’s his damn job, which is…well, it’s a little uncomfortable but Steve can appreciate he’s being kind of annoying taking up all the instructor's attention.

He says his goodbyes to Chrissy and turns to leave, catching that guy’s eyes again and sending him a little wave and sheepish smile. He might as well try and be friendly; they’re going to be in this class together for the next two months, after all. To Steve’s mild relief, it seems to snap the guy out of his single-minded glaring. He watches as the guy blinks hard and turns a charming shade of pink, clearly embarrassed to be acknowledged, and give a little wave back.

The guy is kind of cute, in a wet cat kind of way. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a shirt for some band Steve doesn’t recognize with the sleeves cut off and despite the fact that he’s got long, curly hair he clearly didn’t bring any kind of hair tie because the whole thing has become one tangled, sweaty mess. He’s not the kind of guy Steve would expect to be taking yoga classes, but he supposes anyone can get into this kind of stuff.

With one last look at the strange man, Steve continues toward the door, mind once again turned toward making sure Robin is prepared to talk to Chrissy on Monday.

—---

Eddie can not believe this is his life.

Of all the things he thought he would do one day - write an award-winning song, buy his uncle Wayne a better trailer in a better town, find a man to take his virginity - yoga was never on the list.

Eddie Munson is not, and has never been, the kind of guy to do exercise that didn’t involve running away from jocks and preps he’d annoyed to the point of violence. In fact, he’s been adamant that he would only ever do recreational exercise of the non-sexual variety when the sun fell out of the sky and Andy Johnson from high school professed his undying love to him.

Neither thing has happened as of yet but unfortunately, his best friend is the surprisingly cunning Chrissy Cunningham, who is determined to make Eddie into a healthier person. Chrissy, a bonafide jock but also the kindest person on planet Earth, has tried every trick in the book to get her best friend to commit to a better lifestyle, but Eddie has always been stubborn to a fault. Even he can admit that his dedication to cigarettes, microwave meals, and general sloth is not the best way to ensure he lives a long, healthy life, but old habits die hard and he’s still too young to be thinking about his inevitable death. 

No amount of pleading, cajoling, or petty theft from his apartment has gotten Eddie to commit to anything for more than a week, but Chrissy isn’t his best friend for nothing. She knows him better than anyone and that means she knows that Eddie is proud to a fault and when presented with a challenge he can’t - won’t - turn it down. She traps him into a bet he can’t win and in all her cruelty, she demands that he sign up for her three-month yoga course at the rec.

Three months.

Eddie won’t make it.

Eddie definitely won’t make it if the absolute snack of a man diagonal from him doesn’t start wearing something other than the tightest pair of yoga pants known to man. Seriously, Eddie thought this would be bad enough when all he had to worry about was his stiff joints and complete lack of lung capacity and then this man had the gal to walk in and set up not 10 feet away.

From the front, it had been bad enough. Droopy puppy eyes, sweet moles, a strong nose, and a fit body. And, well, Eddie is not a creep. He isn’t. But there is also an adonis of a man standing right in front of him wearing yoga pants and it’s kind of hard not to look at what's right in front of him. Much to his dismay, or relief he can’t tell, the adonis seems to know what he’s doing and has worn the correct undergarments to keep everything from flopping around.

And then he turned around and…

Dear god.

Those pants can not be fucking legal.

Eddie spent the entire class trying not to stare like the creep he swears he isn’t and failing. His only saving grace is that he doesn’t fall on his face, but it’s a near thing, especially when Chrissy guides them into these weird lunges that make the back of Eddie’s thighs burn and the man of his dream’s ass look completely biteable. He swears Chrissy is torturing him on purpose. She’s probably trying to get him back for being such a brat about taking care of himself.

When the class finally lets out 45 agonizing minutes after it started, Eddie feels like a wrung dish towel. He’s sweaty and gross and he’s going to be aching in places he didn’t even know existed until next week when he has to do it all again. Seriously, fuck bets.

When he finally summons the will to sit up, he is once again treated to the sight of the most fabulous ass this side of the Mississippi. The equally gorgeous man attached to it is chatting to Chrissy, something about yoga mats that Eddie doesn’t care to understand and general pleasantries that he tunes out until his brain hooks on something interesting.

Robin.

As in Robin Buckley the girl from Chrissy’s writing class that his best friend has been crushing hard on for weeks.

Very interesting indeed.

But he can think about that later. At the moment, he is more concerned with getting off the floor and shuffling a little closer to the front of the room for a better look at his future husband’s face. There’s something pleasant about the shape of his mouth, a thought Eddie has never had about a person before but is nonetheless true. There’s a curve to his smile that is present even as he speaks. Eddie kind of wants to kiss his teeth. He’s so caught up seeing if he can count all the moles on the man’s neck that he doesn’t notice him turn toward Eddie until he’s wiggling his fingers in a little wave.

Eddie is suddenly reminded that staring at another man’s moles in the middle of a yoga studio is not socially acceptable behavior, and this man definitely saw him doing just that. He can feel all the blood in his body rush to his face in record time. This is definitely the most embarrassing moment of his adult life. 

Helpless to do anything else lest he look like even more of a freak, he gives a little wave back, feeling supremely stupid as he does. The guy gives him one last look before walking out the door.

As soon as he’s gone Eddie collapses back onto his abandoned mat and covers his eyes with his hands, too mortified to face the world. He doesn’t care if there are still other people lingering around talking to Chrissy and cleaning up their mats, he kicks his feet into the air and groans loud and long. Let Chrissy deal with the weird looks for him, this is her fault anyway.

A couple minutes later the room dims even more as Chrissy looms over him. He refuses to take his hands away from his face, not wanting to deal with her no doubt smug face.

“See something you liked?” She asked, unperturbed by Eddie’s childish behavior.

Eyes still closed, he says, “You’re going to hell. This is best friend abuse.”

Chrissy just laughs.

-------

Little reminder that I am doing a little fanfiction giveaway to celebrate 500 followers. If you want to enter, go to this post for the details!

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Tag List Added

@aroseandherthorns @child-of-cuthulu @lumoschildextra @warlordess

[leggerefiore]

self aware pmex au prompt... accidentally poking them at somewhere weird like their chest or thigh to get their attention

cw: self aware/ddlc au, very short

character: Ingo, Emmet, Cyrus, Volo, Guzma, Grimsley, Rika, Steven Stone

▲Ingo▼

● He knows you are not aware that he is aware, but he cannot help the blush that spreads across his cheeks when poke his chest. Why…? He lets one of his generic game dialogues play since he has no idea how to process or react to what you did. Were you even aware? It seemed like a purposeful tap from his point of view... You even grinned? His “heart” raced in his chest. Did you know? You must have… He simply is too embarrassed to give any outward reaction, but internally, he is ever flustered by this. If you even dare touch his thighs, he might just crash the app with how many confused thoughts rush through his mind.

▽Emmet△

○ He giggles to himself when you tap his thighs. Oh? What was on your mind? He knew you were unaware that he was actually conscious, so this was something you must have done for your own amusement. His dialogue was something close to his preprogrammed ones, but somehow, with an undertone of flirting. He so desperately wished to openly tease you about it. But… Alas, he must be careful about how much he lets you know that he knows. So, he silently ponders why you did that, much like his brother. Though, while Ingo becomes so flustered by it, Emmet simply wishes for more. He knows you know what you did. If only he could safely question you on it. When he can, however, prepare for some unscrupulous comments.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ He tenses up the second your finger taps at his chest. His distress does not actually cross his face, and he allows his preprogrammed generic dialogue to play. Why would … you do that? Did you suspect something? Was this to get a reaction out of him? Were you trying to figure him out and delete him? He refused to go out that easily. But… When he observed you more closely, he realised you were grinning. Not in a malicious, “got you” kind of way, but in a mode giddy, mischievous fashion. He wanted to sigh. It seemed you were still – thankfully – unaware of his consciousness, but you had some kind of fascination with him. Or his chest. He recalled some images of him that you had apparently liked online. It seemed… you must quite enjoy his design. Fine. That was fine. As long as he was in no danger of existential threat. (For now. When you do it again, he may find himself more perturbed. Why are you still doing that!?)

💫Volo📜

⭐️ When you poke his thighs to catch his attention, he cocks up a brow. My, what was this? Interest? He certainly hoped so. He was fully aware that you seemed to like his character, but he pondered just how you would react to his consciousness. Whatever, he allowed himself to make some light teasing line about only doing things for a fee. His trousers quite exaggerated his thighs, so he supposed curiosity was a natural thing in response. He only wished he could do more than subtly make more direct comments, but he was not going to risk his precious existence just yet. That time was coming – especially if he kept observing your interest in him. Though, he wondered just what you would think when he wanted to pole at your thighs. His plans could not come faster, alas.

💀Guzma🕶

□ When you poke his chest to catch his attention in game, he does not hold back his comment about directly asking what you want instead of letting some generic dialogue string play. He was not doing a good job of hiding his sentience, but his general character made it harder to determine at least. Part of him was smug at your flustered reaction to his words, but another wanted to know why you poked his cheat in the first place. Did you want to feel it? He was pretty buff, he felt. He could understand the inclination. Guzma wanted to touch you horrible. Being some weird digital thing was obnoxious. He wanted to just talk to you, but he worried that you might delete him. That thought terrified him. Ugh, he would just keep things as they were for now. At least he felt confident in your interest in him.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ When you poked his thighs to catch his attention, his gaze was instantly observing your face through the screen. He carefully detected your emotions – able to see through even the best poker face. Oh? You thought it was a bit funny, but was that also interest that he detected. Interesting. He grinned and gave a careful remark about seeking thrills. It was too tempting to just reveal his hand to you – to bet that you would not delete him and rather would be fascinated. The gambler felt the need to risk it all swirling inside him. But, he resisted. Self-control winning for once in his life. Instead, he sits smugly, aware that you are interested in him and wanting so badly to tease you about this. The time would come soon enough. He could not wait.

🌶Rika👔

🟤 She nearly jumps when you poke your chest. Of course, it is not like she can really “feel” it, but she saw where your finger went. After the initial surprise wears off, she lets some generic dialogue play from her. Internally, she was flustered by your actions, but outwardly, she would admit interest. So, you did like her? It had been her assumption from creeping through your phone, but an actual, more direct confirmation was a bit more onto her ego. The only issue was her fear of revealing that she was aware. You clearly still did not know (or at least she hoped you would poke her like that so casually if you were). What if you deleted the whole app? The last thing she wanted was to “die.” Rika knew she needed to really think of how to break the ice with you, but it was nerve-racking. Well, she was reassured, at least for now.

💍Steven💎

🪨 He was a bit confused by your actions. His… thighs…? He was not particularly… gifted there. He let his dialogue play about his usual fascination with rocks as he debated just what you were doing. It was intentional – that much he could determine. He would grow flustered by it, but he was not exactly easily affected by the kind of thing. Mostly, he assumed it was just a bit of a joke. You smiled after all. He really does shrug it off as you being bored and looking for small fun. He does not really give any reaction in the end. But, he does wonder if you are becoming more aware of his consciousness. He was still coming to terms with it, so he had yet to really speak with you properly. Desperately, admittedly. Maybe he should just bring it up.