#and you do not get away with that on this blog

[simpjaes]

BOOK SMART? P*SSY SMART. — P.JS

The one where Jay basically lives in the university library and you live in any and every party you can find on campus. Unfortunately, your grades are suffering over it and you need help. You’re quite lucky though because Jay is quite helpful. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― inexperienced loser jay x afab reader

CONTENT―  Jay wears glasses even tho the banner says otherwise lol, he’s also a loser ass dweeb in this, open minded and playful reader, college au, jay just rly wants to get in that but doesn't know how to

NOTE― this is a revamp, surprise surprise, nobody is shocked. was originally written for mark lee over on my other blog @/ncteez but i need jay like i need air so….cackling at the title tho, my brain is malfunctioning pls forgive me

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: MONSTER COCK AGENDA. Jay is a pervert and smells ur towel lmao, mentions of food and detailed popsicle eating,  reader is very vocal and talkative, slight use of the pet name “pretty”, a lot of cum, cream pie, unprotected sex, mention of bc pills, Jay has a huge cock and he didn’t even know it, inexperienced Jay, experienced reader, finger sucking, nipple sucking, grinding, oral (f recieving), Jay gets on his knees, making out, sex on a table

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         It wasn’t shocking that you were failing but it was shocking that not a single one of your friends were failing with you. They somehow managed to keep their grades up while partying just as often as you do. You don’t know how the hell they did it and you also don’t know why the hell they refuse to help you study now that they’ve seen your failure.

         Not the greatest friends, you think. They won’t help you study because they only have time to study their own classes and to continue partying without you, apparently. You knew you had to come to terms eventually that these people aren’t your friends. They’re just people to party with, people to have fun with, and apparently, people that will watch you struggle.

         It’s frustrating to walk home from classes by the run-down houses with booming music already playing. Without fail, every time, you wish you could be attending instead of studying. It’s even more annoying when you give up on your studies because you’re just not fucking getting it, and you probably would be fucking getting it if you were at a party talking to potential boyfriends or fuckbuddies. 

         Fairness in the world is so hard to grasp. Someone else always has it, but never you. The worst part about all of this is that you’re very aware of how lucky you actually are, you wasted away in college and allowed yourself to get this low simply because you were lucky enough to be well-liked. You prioritized the pointless things over the important things, and now you’re suffering for it. Complaining that you can’t attend parties, looking like a bore to your friends who pity and are embarrassed by you for not being able to multitask like everyone else.

         That’s right. You can’t party and study like everyone else, so maybe now it’s time to focus on the task you’d pushed aside for so long.

         Studying. Ugh.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         You don’t know Jay past the fact that he is in at least three of your classes, extremely quiet, and constantly in the library when you pass by to leave the campus. You’re a little bit ashamed to admit that the majority of people you are well-liked by are the people who are ignoring you right now. The only choice you have is to find someone that can help you catch up on all of the studies you’ve blatantly abandoned. You could go through the student center and “officially” attend tutoring sessions with someone who would likely scoff at you for not getting it, or you could find someone of your own choice to help you. 

         That’s the only reason Jay comes to mind. Again, he is in three of the four of your classes. Every semester, without fail, you’ll look for your name on the dean’s list knowing that it’ll never show up, but you have seen Jay’s name on that list more times than you care to remember. 

         Jay knows of you as well. The girl who cut in front of him in the cafeteria to grab coffee with her large group of friends, making him ten minutes late to be early for his class. The girl who loudly slammed a book down in the library and nearly gave him a heart attack, the girl who came into class stumbling and giggling with one of the guys, clearly still tipsy from the night before. 

         You are everything that Jay isn’t. You are everything he avoids when accepting friends into his life, and his interest in you doesn’t really go past the point of having a stubborn, pretty girl to look at. He is a man after all. A man who is finally away from home, surrounded by hormonal women and men who can’t see past their brain fog of sexual fantasies in class. Never towards him though, he’s usually just on the outside looking in. 

         Jay has those fantasies too, but it isn’t his focus. He is dead set on being a top student, one that people recognize on the academic end rather than the partying end of it all. So, here he is, sitting with his nose in a book, glasses sliding down every few minutes as he munches on a pack of crackers. He’s been here for three hours already and finds comfort in the silence of the library. It’s such a vast place with so many corners to hide in if someone were to come and disturb his peace. Today is no different from any other Friday, where few students choose to study and instead opt for one of the various frat parties or bar hops. 

         You wish you could be one of those people, truly, but instead, you’re making your way to the library in search of Jay. The one student who you assume may actually take you up on the offer of study sessions. You imagine his shocked face when you sit in front of him, and you try your best not to imagine a look of disgust rather than approval. You need Jay now, for the first time in your life, more than ever. His knowledge of the three out of four classes you have will surely work wonders on your GPA, you will probably have to admit how much you’d be relying on him in order for him to even consider your offer too.  

God, you hate begging.

The library is so deafeningly silent when you walk in. You can’t hear even the slightest of a whisper as you walk around and peek into the many empty study rooms and cubicles. After several minutes of searching, the anxiety bubbles up inside of you. What if he decided to do something else? Of all days? The one day where he is needed to be studying? 

Just as you turn to leave, ignoring the entire second floor of the library, you nearly walk straight into him. And by nearly, you actually do  walk directly into him. 

Books clatter to the floor, Jay sighs as he looks down without making eye contact with you. It’s not the first time he’s been walked into and it probably won’t be the last. He is forever wishing that people could just watch where they’re fucking going.

“Hey, I’m sorry–” You go to say as you lean down to help him pick up the mess, he still doesn’t look at you though. Honestly, he barely even notices you there with those airpods in his ears and eyes on the floor. 

To be fair, most people who walk into him just continue walking, so…

         When he does take note of another person helping him retrieve his things, he looks up. You’re not shocked that all he does is nod at you when he takes the book from your hands and makes his way back towards his study space. 

         In an awkward way, you follow him. You feel dumb and kind of lost in this world of books and good students. Up the stairs, towards the floor you’d not even bothered to check, Jay unintentionally leads you to his little corner that already has papers and books laid out. 

         You swallow hard when he takes his seat and looks up to see that you have followed him. Jay is quick to swipe one of his AirPods from his ears and you can kind of tell that he instantly went from relaxed to nervous.

“Uh–” You look around, feeling awkward standing there. “I was looking for you.” 

“Me?” Jay questions with a soured look on his face. He doesn’t really do it intentionally, it’s just, like, what? 

 “Why?”

“Okay, just hear me out.” You start, taking a few steps forward and inviting yourself to sit at his table. There is absolutely no arm space on this side, but that doesn’t entirely matter. You begin your pitch.

“I know it’s kind of weird, but, I’m failing.”

“That’s not weird.” Jay mocks, shaking his head and moving to put his airpod back in his ear.

“Wait! Just, please–hear me out.” You plead now, a little frustrated that he’s already refusing to help you.

         He looks around and then lets out a deep sigh. Rubbing his temples, he nods.

“I know we aren’t the type to like, help each other or whatever– but I’ve asked all of my friends, and they kind of blacklisted me…you are my last resort, I swear.” You say, begging with your eyes. “Can you please just help me study for like, one day a week?”

         His body is stiff and his face is unimpressed by your pitch. 

“An hour a week?” You adjust clapping your hands together to plead even harder. You very nearly start to grovel on the ground before him. “Jay, please. I need to get my grades up.” 

“If you had just given yourself a day a week, you wouldn’t have to be asking someone you’ve never even spoken with to help you study.” He rolls his eyes, still mocking and appearing a bit cocky at the sudden power he’s been given. Of course he only gets approached when someone needs something from him. 

 “How many classes are you failing?”

“I’m failing three classes and have a C in another–” You shamefully admit. “Just an hour a day, please.”

         Jay eyes you over, shifting a bit in his seat before letting out another sigh. 

“Finals are barely a month away.”

“I know! I’ve already got extra credit lined up so I can at least get my grades up by a letter but– I,” You look down, more ashamed than before.

“You don’t know how to actually do the extra credit, do you?” Jay finishes for you and is, for some reason, shocked when you nod. 

         He can see the panic in your eyes, and he noticed for the past week that you’d been looking incredibly tired around campus. Not the hung-over type of tired either. He’s noticed you move your seat closer to the front in one of the classes and even noted that you’re actually taking notes during your time spent there. Maybe he should help you out. If not for the fact that you genuinely seem to need it, but also maybe because he’s like, incredibly aware that he is attracted to you.

 He always has been, but that’s not the fucking point. 

“Okay, you can come study with me whenever you want then. I usually study here because I have a roommate who isn’t exactly the quietest person–” He goes to explain. 

“I have an entire apartment to myself, you can come study at my place. Really, I’ll make food and everything.” You panic, still trying to sell the idea despite him already accepting your offer. 

         Jay is a little shocked and offended that you have your own apartment, and yet you’re failing your classes. No way in hell are you paying for that yourself. This only prompts him to want to help more. Because, like? An entire apartment to study in? Where a pretty girl makes his food? 

“Okay, that can work. What days and times can I be over?” He follows up with a nonchalant nod, noting the three shared classes and the one other you’ll probably need help with. He hopes he’s already taken the outlier class, otherwise he won’t be much help in that regard. 

“You can walk home with me after those classes if you want, and we can study until you’re ready to leave?” You offer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be every day, but–”

“We can meet up after every class and decide if you want to study or not.” Jay finishes for you yet again, and you nod with a smile. 

“What’s your favorite food?” You ask, wanting to make a mental note of keeping your end of the bargain. 

         Jay thinks hard at that because being put on the spot like this makes answering any question a bit difficult. 

“Here–” You hold out your phone. “Put your number in and you can think about it. I’ll text you so you have mine.”

 You can’t wipe the smile off of your face, the anxiety is practically dissolving from your body at the very idea of someone being willing to help you in the comfort of your own apartment.

         He, on the other hand, is a bit more anxious now. He realizes that now, he’s going to be studying with you. A girl who had never even looked at him twice during the semesters you’ve shared classes. He’s putting his number into your phone, and you’re going to be texting him, and spending time with him instead of going to the parties that he’s never invited to. 

“I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask in his silence, sending a quick text to him so that he can save your number. He nods and looks down at his books. “Don’t forget to text me what you want to eat, okay?”

         He nods again as you stand to walk away. He watches intently at the way you have a little bounce in your step and can’t help but feel his cheeks flushing. God, why is he doing this to himself? 

         Slamming his head on the desk, he, much like you, cannot stop smiling now. All thoughts of studying for the remainder of the night left his head and were replaced with his new study schedule. He thinks he will try and take it easy this weekend, specifically so he is mentally prepared. He’s only talked to you for a total of fourteen minutes and he’s already lost his ability to study and think clearly. 

If he’s lucky, the two of you will pass this semester with flying colors. There’s still that tiny part of him though, that wonders if maybe you’d find interest in him, and maybe he will fail the semester with you because, honestly, you are so distracting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         On Monday, you sat up straight in class while eyeing the back of Jay’s head most of the time. Mostly to prepare yourself for if and when he makes a break for it. He hasn’t even texted you what he wants to eat today, and part of you wonders if he went back on his promise to you. Not that it was much of a promise in the first place, anyway.

         He was a little shocked that you weren’t the first out of the room once everyone wrapped up though. Like you, he was assuming the same thing. You’d make a fucking break for it and pretend you never approached him in the first place. After all, It was common for you to leave mid-way through class or be the first one out the door. Instead though, he finds himself proud of you. You stood there awkwardly looking at him as the room emptied out, clearly unsure of what to do or say to him.

         Jay nods your way as if to beckon you towards him. 

“You’re still wanting to study today?” He asks with a brow raised in surprise. 

All weekend he had thought about it. Thought about the possibility of it just being a joke to you, or maybe that you’d change your mind and allow yourself to flunk out like you already had been doing. His heart kind of jumps a bit noticing you looking at him like this. 

“Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan?” You ask, nudging him a bit once you get up beside him. “You didn’t text me what you wanted to eat so you’re just gonna have to eat whatever I have in the fridge, by the way.”

         Jay nods, opting to stay silent at this moment. He’s going home with you. He’s going to be seen on campus walking home with you. He’s not the sort to want attention, but this situation feels dangerously attractive to him. Especially when he takes note of how you’re probably going to look all…cozy and at home in your apartment. Like, he gets to be in your space teaching you things that you should have already known. 

         It all shouldn’t be so exciting. After all, his days are filled with the typical boring sessions of reading, writing, noting, and memorizing. It is exciting for him though. Never has he studied with someone like you, or really even gotten to talk to someone that most of the men speak to, the unreachable men no less. The ones with families that own the city, and all the houses in it.

You’re one of the unreachable women on campus, he thinks. The ones with standards based on fun, attractiveness, and chaos rather than charisma, personality, and knowledge. It’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Jay to be doing this right now.

“Okay, so...” Jay drones out, avoiding eye contact with you as he packs things into his ratty backpack. “I’m not super hungry right now but–we are going to your place right?”

He needs the confirmation himself if he’s being honest. Nothing would suck more than assuming and being proved wrong.

         You nod with a smile, grabbing his hand as soon as he throws his backpack on. It isn’t intimate to you, but for him, it’s…something. Holding his hand is reserved for intimate relationships with family or girlfriends. He never holds hands.

 He’s never really gotten the chance to anyway, aside from a little cousin when they were crossing the street last summer. He can’t help but buckle in on himself in a shy sort of way as you lead him from the room and out of the building. 

         You’re rambling about all of the things you need to study. All of the snacks you could offer to him. All of the hours you wish you hadn’t wasted partying, yet, all he’s thinking about is how warm your hand feels in his. You seem to be a natural at talking to people. Touching them without a single worry in the world, it’s kind of nice, he thinks. The fact that you aren’t ashamed to be seen together with him, heading towards the place you sleep. Sometimes Jay forgets that this is college. No one actually cares who is hanging out with who unless they are in the middle of a raunchy frat party, seeing their love interest getting touched against a dirty bathroom counter. 

         He smiles to himself as he finally catches up to you and allows you to stop dragging him around. He keeps pace with you now, resting his hand as if to allow you to let go, but you don't. 

“Just around that corner–” You say,  glancing over at him and noting the shade of color his face has become. “You good?” 

         Jay nods, staying quiet and trying to force himself out of his thoughts. He glances down at your hand holding his and then back up at you on instinct. 

“Ah, sorry.” You mumble, releasing his hand and trying hard to understand that maybe you truly are too clingy with most people in your life. You think his reaction was kind of cute though, and now you’re a little determined to help him relax those stiffened shoulders. Jay can’t be as boring as he seems, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“I have peanut butter and jelly, eggs, noodles, some leftover pizza and–”

“I’m not hungry, but If I can have some water or something, that would be cool.” Jay cuts you off, slipping off his shoes in an immaculate show of how clumsy he is. You can hear the clatter of your entire coat rack falling to the floor due to his weight leaning on it through that single task. 

“Okay–” You side eye his mess with a slight smile. “Water, got it.”

 You trail off to get him the drink, keeping a small mental note of how nervous he appears to be right now. He’s panicked, frantically trying to balance your coat rack back in place as if you hadn’t walked directly into him just the Friday before. 

“Jay, it’s just a coat rack.” You laugh with water in hand, hearing him mutter a sorry as he hangs one of your empty purses back onto it.

“Thanks.” He says now, reaching out for the drink.

         Watching his eyes go from the glass of water to your apartment, you smile at the look on his face. Such a smart guy acting so incredibly stupid the moment he’s alone in an apartment with a girl. Cute.

“Is this good?” You ask as if you’re offering a change of subject so that he doesn’t have to think about the coat rack he had just knocked over. You point over to your dining table that’s placed perfectly in a little nook against a window and look at him as he stands in place. “We can start whenever you’re ready?”

“Can you show me to the bathroom first?” Jay blurts, hyper-aware of his awkward demeanor. He needs to calm himself down before even thinking about sitting down to fucking study. 

   You point to the bathroom quickly, making your way to the table and adjusting everything so there is space for the piles of books soon to be laid on it. You watch only a little bit at how Jay makes his way over to said bathroom in a show of not-so-confident body language. He seemed kind of cocky on Friday, but today he seems to be like jelly. 

         You sit at the dining table without thinking much more of the man in your bathroom, instead, you pull out some textbooks and lay them out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         Jay stares at himself in the mirror, he can practically see the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he comes to terms with the fact that he probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to your apartment to study. You’re attractive. That alone is a reason in his head to avoid it, but he’s here and he’s already made a fool of himself. 

         He slaps his face a bit with some cold water and tries to will himself to stop acting like such an awkward idiot. Surely you’ll pick up on his inability to talk to women if he doesn’t get it together, right? You’re going to think he’s some weirdo, a pervert maybe, before throwing him out and avoiding him forever.

         Staring harder at himself, he waits for the color to run from his face so that way he can get out there and start the study session, but then his eyes start to wander. 

         Your bathroom is immaculately clean save for some makeup stains on the counter and a few stray hairs that must have been yanked out of your head while you attempted to brush out a night of drinking. It smells fresh and your perfectly hung towels look plush hanging against the wall. Without a thought in his head, he leans towards the towel so that he can dry his face and hands, and that’s just what he does. Except, maybe he buries his face into the towel a bit longer than he needed to, and maybe the smell of it was so astronomically sweet that he nuzzled against it even more.

         He could tell the towel had been used at least once though, solely because he could smell a scent that wasn’t the soap on the counter, nor any laundry detergent he’s aware of. Then…his eyes flick to the actual hand towel that he somehow missed, right beside it? A lace bra. The flush comes back to his face, making him feel even warmer than he did when he entered the room. Which feels like a fucking nightmare if he’s being totally honest. 

         It dawns on him again. He’s in your apartment, smelling your towels, and staring at your bra. Coming to the bathroom in an attempt to calm down has done nothing more than make things worse, and the only option he has now is to stumble out of the bathroom hoping you assume he was in here doing number two rather than planting his face into a towel where you dry off your naked body. 

         Mumbling to himself, Jay prepares himself to face you. Sure, you probably see nothing out of the norm if he does well and hides the fact that he’s hyper-sensitive just for being in your space, then again, Jay has never been the best at playing pretend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You offer him a bright smile once he finally makes his way back into your living space and seats himself at the table. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with you, bashfully pulling his own books out of his bag with shaking fingers. 

“Are you okay? You sure you don’t want a snack or something?” You look at him, head tilting at him in concern. 

Jay finally looks at you and notes how comfortable you seem while he feels like he’s internally falling apart. There shouldn’t be any fucking issue in his head when it comes to this situation, but here he is, panicking because a pretty girl is in front of him. 

He feels so dumb, so obvious, so embarrassed. Yeah, maybe he should eat something, at least so he can buy some time to focus on something else before he starts stuttering through your studies. At this rate, all you’re going to learn about today is how awful Jay is around women. 

“Maybe I should eat, yeah–” He says in a small voice, still staring at the books as he places them on the table.

“Come look in my kitchen, we can eat something together?” You offer, reaching toward his hand. 

He pulls back from your touch and tries to play it off casually like he was just reaching for a pencil, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hands were cold and shaky.

Taking note, it starts to dawn on you. You’ve dealt with men like him before, and it was always an interesting situation. To check your theory, you rise from the chair and lean over the table, being sure to squish whatever cleavage you have visible to make it more visible to him. 

“Salty or sweet?” You ask, watching his eyes intently and the way they struggle to reach your face. Score one for you, Jay is definitely a man above all. Luckily for him, you have lots of experience in that field, while he appears to have very little in the field of women. 

“W-what?” He drones out, pulling his eyes away from you in an attempt to hide the way his face immediately flushed. 

“The snacks? Savory or sweet?” You laugh, propping yourself back from the table and hopping into the kitchen, checking behind you to see if he follows.

He does stand to follow, but by the time you round the corner, he isn’t behind you like you figured he would be. Peeping your head around the corner, you watch as he holds his hands in front of his groin, looks down at himself, and then lets out a deep sigh. You then watch as he adjusts himself in his pants, uncomfortably hiding a semi-hard on so that he could come into the kitchen without suspicion. 

By this point, you’ve already decided that studying will very likely not be part of today’s schedule. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing like this, right? You should help him, right?

“Took you long enough.” You joke as he appears in the kitchen, turning to look at him and intentionally trailing your eyes down his body just to see if you can see any sort of bulge. He’s safe though because he apparently must have skills in hiding his arousal during the worst times. 

Jay, on the other hand, can already tell that your shift in mood is intensely different compared to before he went to the bathroom. Twice now you’ve been blatant towards him and it is not helping him at all right now. Is he reading it wrong because he’s very obviously horny right now? Were you really trying to dangle your breasts in front of him like that? Are you really checking him out right now? 

“Sorry–” He looks down. “I– uh, I dropped something.” He offers as an excuse, uncomfortably trying to shift from your view and avoid eye contact. 

“Sure.” You say with a roll of your eyes, knowing full well that he was hiding his cock. “I want something sweet. Sounds good?” You change the subject, reaching out and running your fingers down his arm. 

He swallows hard, stiffening his shoulders and nodding to you. Without hesitation, you let your fingers stay against him for a few seconds longer, keeping eye contact with him before turning and opening a cupboard. 

“Peanut butter crackers, cereal, and oatmeal.” You deadpan, slamming the cupboard and stepping to the fridge. “Pudding.” Then you open the freezer. “Popsicles, and ice cream.”

Jay just stands there when you close the doors to the fridge and look at him in question. He could opt for the crackers but his throat is already dry enough. Choking right now would be even more humiliating. Cereal could work but that would be embarrassing too, for some reason. Oatmeal is an option, solely for how disgusting it looks, surely it would tame his boner. 

But, popsicles? Hell no.

“Grab whatever you want, I'm eating a popsicle.” You say, raising a brow and throwing open the freezer door again to take your pick.

Of course, it’s  intentional. It’s fun to see his eyes light up at the very idea of seeing you eat a popsicle, and even more fun to imagine how flustered he’s going to be in mere minutes.

Jay looks to the floor and heads towards your fridge, also opting for a popsicle despite his very recent internal protest. Mostly so you don’t think he’s a pervert when he inevitably sees you eat it. But also, like, just in case you really are trying to flirt with him right now, at least his lips will taste sweet too. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You had expected Jay to get flustered, and boy did he. What you didn’t expect though, was to become flustered yourself by the image of Jay’s tongue darting over sweet ice, and then over his own lips to suck up the melted and sticky juice. The only image in your head right now is the idea of if he would lick his lips like that if you were to spread your legs for him. Would he lick up your mess on his face, chasing the flavor the same way he’s doing right now?

A dull ache begins to spread throughout your body as you watch him. His eyes still avoid you but you manage to catch him a few times. Each time he makes eye contact with you, your gaze shoots to his lap just to see if he’s gotten hard enough for his cock to leave its tucked position in his waistband. 

Jay is hyper-aware now too, with the way you’re staring and almost leaving your popsicle unattended as he eats his own. He feels confused, like? Are you doing what he was actively avoiding doing to you? Jesus, you really are kind of a whore, god.

By the time the popsicles are finished, your fingers are sticky from allowing it to drip down the stick. You make a point to suck each of your fingers innocently, looking under your lashes at him for split seconds as you begin to shuffle through the papers on the table. 

“So–” You say, popping one finger out of your mouth and inserting another. “Can we start here? I need to have a paper written on at least one topic on this list and have no idea how to find a good source to read from.”

Jay hears and sees you in tunnel vision right now, but he manages to catch the ass end of your sentence and begins to try and focus on the studies at hand. Still watching you suck your fingers into your mouth, he clears his throat and places his own popsicle stick onto the table, pretending he doesn’t wish your tongue would lick him like that.

“I wrote mine based on this topic, and I found a lot of good sources for it. I don’t think our professor would think too hard about us choosing the same subject–” 

“Yeah, especially because it’s me. They’d never guess you’re in my apartment right now.” You laugh, smirking over at him. 

“I would’ve never guessed either–” Jay says without thinking, barely processing how embarrassing he is before you squint at him with a wider smile. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, raising a brow and leaning forward. “Why’s that?” 

Jay tries to look around but now can’t seem to force his eyes away from you. A much different circumstance compared to before when he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. There’s a connection here, he can feel it. You’re definitely coming onto him and you have been for the past however long he’s been here.

“You’re kind of out of my league, don’t you think?” He laughs more at himself than he does the situation, and to you, he honestly looks pitiful after saying that. It’s incredibly attractive to you in the way he seems to praise you for being a failure simply because he’s attracted to you. At least, that’s the case if you’re reading him right.

“Who said someone like you couldn’t teach me a thing or two?” You have a smile in your voice, and it comforts him, but that comfort is shot down when you stand on your feet and walk over to him. “Who says I’m out of your league?” You ask again, watching him scoot back with his chair as you come closer.

You prop yourself against the table, essentially blocking him from his books and papers. You look down at him now, dipping your head in a playful way. “I don’t think I’m out of your league.” 

Jay notes how you’re between him and the table now. You look comfortable leaning in front of him like this, and when his eyes trail up to your face all his body can do is give in. He looks at you through large eyes, the overhead light is sparkling through them at you. 

In that instant, you can see his embarrassment fill his body because he’s no longer resisting the urge to be himself. He’s staring at you as if you could be a god and saying nothing in response to your words. 

“If anything, Jongie–” You soothe him, grabbing one of his hands and smiling at the way his pen immediately falls out of his grip. “You’re out of my league.” 

He blinks up at you, soaking in the words and not yet understanding in full what you’re doing until he feels warmth enveloping the entirety of his hand and wrist. 

“Do you know how lucky I am that you’re here right now?” You ask him, basking in the way you can see his breath get caught in his throat. “How lucky I am that you’re not only smart but hot too?”

He dips his head at this, a bashful show of your words having an impact on him. He hides his face briefly against his arm and then he realizes–

“Is this okay?” You ask, holding his hand in place as you begin to move your hips against his palm.

Jay watches the way you’ve managed to pull his hand out and plant it between your legs, all so you could grind against it without so much as a warning. He’s not against it though, if anything, his head is shot back to reality and he’s immediately back to glancing around the room and avoiding the scene in front of him.

His palm is against your literal, dampening panties, and all he can think to say right now is, “You could write your thesis on human connection and its effects on the brain.” 

You smile at his attempt to continue to study through this moment.

“I could,” You say with a deeper voice than before, feeling the way his hand stays relaxed in your grasp as you grind against it. “Or we could think about how your brain is being affected right now?”

Jay groans, feeling the warmth of your wet beginning to seep through the fabric, and honestly, it is happening so fast that he’s sure it would be more embarrassing if he walked out now. 

“How are you feeling?” You reword your question towards him, intentionally swiveling your hips so that you can position his fingers into your underwear. 

“You’re warm.” Jay chokes out, eyes now zoning in on your legs slightly spread in front of him. 

You let out a small laugh at this, pulling a bit on his arm to pull him closer, but he doesn’t compute it at all. 

“Do you like it?” You ask again, this time slipping his fingers into you. You let out a deep sigh and roll your eyes back, fucking yourself gently against his fingers before you look at him.

He’s nodding, probably more thankful now that you’d worn a skirt today rather than pants. He didn’t allow himself to take note of your attire, because if he did, he would have made even more of a fool of himself. But he’s nodding now, watching the way you hold his arm in place and slide his fingers in and out of you. 

His silence is louder than his words could be right now, you think. You can feel him straighten his fingers inside of you, you can practically see him salivate at the very idea of how you’re using him right now. You’re not done though, no, no. He’s far too sweet like this, but you want to hear words.

Gently, you pull your hips back effectively slipping his fingers out of you. There, you lift his arm and examine your wetness against his fingers. You smile again, eyes now adjusting to his face rather than his wet fingers. 

Jay watches as you guide his fingers to his lip, and without a second thought, he opens his mouth to taste you against them. He licks circles around each of the two fingers, closing his eyes almost instantly so that he can relish the experience.

He no longer cares how awkward he must seem sitting here like this, letting you do all the work.

“Do you like the taste too?” You ask, releasing his hand and watching how he continues to suck his fingers. 

“Mhm–” Jay groans with his closed mouth around the digits, making damn sure to suck every bit off.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” You compliment him this time, tearing your eyes from him and slipping your panties down your legs. You turn yourself over so that you’re now bent over the table and you ignore the corner of one of the textbooks poking against your ribs, all in favor of what sound Jay will make when he opens his eyes. 

“You can taste more, if you want.” You offer, lifting to look behind you at the way his fingers drop from his mouth and his eyes immediately zone in on your bare pussy displayed for him under your hiked-up skirt. 

He does let out a whimper, one that seemed entirely desperate to do just that for you but–he doesn’t move. He just stares, soaking in the words you’re saying, memorizing each fold and dip in your glistening pussy.

You don’t intend to wait though. Reaching behind you, you grab the back of his head by his hair and guide his face to you. The way you can hear his chair tip over as he falls to his knees makes you quiver a bit before him, and you’re almost surprised to not just feel a face against you. It appears that Jay does know what he’s doing. 

He instantly jumps into action, loving the feeling of your hand in his hair basically telling him to do it. Giving him that green light, letting him.

You can feel his tongue exploring and his other hand reaching to lift your skirt entirely over your ass. His tongue is soft, warm, wet, and so entirely eager to lick and suck every inch of you. It’s not until he starts allowing his moans to vibrate into your flesh that you hike one of your legs up and open your cunt against his working tongue more.

Guiding him by his hair still, you press his face harshly into you with little to no fight for air from him, and you’re loving it. Loving the way he whines for more when his tongue reaches the furthest limit, loving even more when he finally reaches his hands up to your pussy and spreads it out for himself.

He isn’t even thinking at this moment, just tasting and feeling you guide his tongue as if this is what you wanted all along. The thought alone of someone like you wanting to fuck his tongue like this sets his cock on fire in so many ways. He’s so hard right now that it hurts to think about it at all. Jay doesn’t give a single fuck about how pathetic he must sound to you right now, whimpering and panting against you as if this was the only sweet thing in your apartment he wanted to eat anyway. 

You hear a clatter to the floor, knowing for a fact that he’s knocked his glasses off of his face from the angle in which he skewed his neck in order to fuck his tongue into you. You wonder what’s going through his mind right now, because goddamn he’s eating you out like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He’s impressively messy and loud with it too, making you feel as if you must taste like the sweetest thing on earth to him. 

For some reason, thinking back to all of the non-sexual situations you’d passively seen Jay in? It turns you on even more. The big-brained student who is constantly making straight As and never going out to parties eats pussy like this? Eats your pussy like this? Better than half of the men you’d already been with? Jay doesn’t miss a single centimeter of it,  and you can tell he’s focusing on you more than he has ever focused on his homework or studies before. 

You feel so deeply needed at this moment by Jay that all you can do is let out a desperate moan for him. One so that he knows he’s not the only one utterly stunned by the turn of events, but also because you’re fucking loving what he’s doing to you.

With each moan, Jay picks up his pace, using those same two fingers and spreading your cunt out impossibly wider just so he can attempt to bury his tongue deeper into the messy, wet heat you offer. He’s spreading you apart so well that it almost pains you to move without the fear of being torn open by his tongue alone. Your clit has barely even been reached but he still managed to make you feel sensitive to the point of wanting to beat your fists on the table out of sheer frustration for not approaching him sooner. 

Not only can he help you pass your classes, but he surely could make you feel like a fucking queen on top of it all, licking you open, up and down, as if he were born and trained for you and you alone? Insane.

“You’re so–” You groan out, releasing his hair from your grip but pressing your ass out more so that you can feel him slip his tongue back to your clit with impossible reach. He continues that, sliding his tongue from your clit to your entrance, dipping in and swirling the muscle before going back to your clit. All while he’s moaning, groaning, and panting against you. 

It’s too much, he’s so incredibly eager that you’re honestly too sensitive to let him keep going. You hate it when you pull your hips forward and lift from the table. Your legs are shaking when you do this, and shaking even more when you turn to face him and lean against the table again. 

“How–?” You look down at him in pleasant surprise, watching him lick his lips much like you hoped he would. “How are you so good at this?” 

Jay is stunned by your question because in all fairness, he’s only ever eaten a girl out once and like, it wasn’t that great because she made him stop within like a minute. He wasn’t really thinking about what to do with you though, or how to do it. He just…did it. That’s all. So obsessed with the taste and smell of you to the point he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He’d still be licking you right now if you didn’t move away. 

“I–don’t know.” He shamefully admits, nonchalantly moving his hands to his pants and unbuttoning them. Not to fuck you or anything, mostly just to release his cock from the chokehold of the denim rubbing against him. 

“You’re lying.” You deadpan, running your hand between your legs and quivering the moment your fingers run over your swollen clit. “There’s no way you haven’t practiced doing this.” You gasp, looking at him as if no other man exists. 

He shakes his head, looking up at you from the floor with innocent eyes. His lips are wet, his eyes are hooded, his hair sticking up from your fingers guiding him– it’s a lot to see him like this when you’ve only ever seen him as that goody-two-shoes student who doesn’t know how to have fun. Clearly, Jay knows how to have fun.

Your gaze on him makes him feel more bashful as he looks down to the floor, feeling embarrassed that you’re praising a complete amateur at this. 

Using your leg, you nudge him.

“You did all of that and didn’t even touch yourself?” You ask in curiosity, noting how he had only just now undone his pants to relieve pressure. “Let me see it.” You say again, almost demanding as you hop up on the table and spread your legs even more.

Frantic at your tone of voice, Jay stumbles to his feet and pushes his pants down to his thighs. His cock springs out and stands erect in front of you. You could stare all day, honestly. Jay, of all people? He’s the one with a cock this big? He’s the one with a size that could make you feel as if you’re being split in half? Well, fuck.

“God.” You comment, mouth falling open at the way it twitches in mid-air. “All of the girls would be fucking swooning, Jay, really.” You get a bit flustered yourself because only now do you understand who you just seduced and what he’s got to offer outside of brains. 

In all of his shyness, Jay hides his face from you again despite his cock out in all of its glory. Your mouth could honestly start watering if he hadn’t just eaten you out to the point of needing him to stop. Meaning, your throat is too dry right now to start drooling. 

Without another thought, you pull your shirt and bra off all in one go. No way in hell is he leaving without fucking you stupid with a cock like that. Absolutely no fucking way  would you let this go to waste.

“When’s the last time you’ve done anything with a girl?” You ask now, reaching for his arm and pulling his gaze back towards you, now almost completely naked save for your skirt hiked up to your waist. 

Jay stares at you again, much like he did when you spread your legs in front of him, this time zoning in on the way your nipples are erect and begging for his mouth to be put to use again. He nearly forgets that you’re talking to him because of the way you’ve presented yourself to him. The reality is right in front of his face, but he still wonders if this must be a dream.

“I–um– right out of high school before she broke up with me,” He says in a lazy voice, slightly raspy. It sounds as if it doesn’t even matter to him because he is so focused on you in front of him. “I’ve only had sex two times.”

“Aw–” You pitifully look at him. “What a waste, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, wiggling your hips as if to entice his cock to make its way towards you. “You’ve got the brains and the cock for it. You must feel so neglected.”

All he does is nod, because yes, he does feel fucking neglected, partly because he let it happen and mostly because he knows he doesn’t know how to talk to girls. Right now, Jay could genuinely start crying if you keep talking to him like this though. He can’t tell if you’re mocking him or being genuine, but the only thing he wants to do is bury his cock so deeply inside of you that all you can do is moan out mantras of how pretty he is again. He wants to hear you moan over how much time has been wasted without his cock inside of you, how badly you’d want him again and again after this. 

You can see his facial expressions change every few seconds and to be fair, your body yearns to be filled. With the way he is looking at you, there’s no way he doesn’t want to.

“Wanna fuck me, Jongie?” You ask, realizing that you much prefer calling him this rather than his full name because he seems to lean directly into it. 

“God,” He sighs out, hanging his head to look at the way his cock still stands painfully erect throughout the conversation. “Can I?” He asks now, making eye contact with you through pleading eyes.

You reach out for him, grabbing his waist and pressing his cock directly against your core. You lean your head back a bit to look at him and the way his eyes sear straight through your own. His pupils are dilated, his cheeks are rosy, and his lips are glistening. You lick against them, and the way he immediately starts to kiss you makes you think he’s a liar. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his mouth regardless of where it is. His tongue presses into your mouth so beautifully that you genuinely could argue that this man has only ever had sex twice. 

Maybe he’s a natural? 

Jay knows exactly when to grind his cock between your folds, knows exactly when to pull back to kiss your neck, and knows exactly how to lean you back with his hand protecting the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam against the table. 

He slips his cock so beautifully as he trails his kisses to your tits too, suckling gently against one of your nipples before he nearly can’t stand it anymore. He’s in his own world, barely recognizing that he’s not the only one experiencing this right now.

With an eager hand, Jay grabs his cock and presses it directly into you without waiting any longer. He isn’t slow or gentle with it. You can feel how desperate he is solely because of the way he can’t seem to fathom taking it slow. He doesn’t let you adjust, no. The second the head of that thick cock slips in he’s slamming in. All the way, forcing a yelp from your throat and a tight grip to his back.

He’s lost himself in the moment and you’re loving it. Loving the way his tongue picks up against your nipples, and the way there is no rhythm or rhyme to his thrusts. His size alone is enough for you, and you can admit to loving every single push and pull his body is offering.

The room is silent save for his whimpers, your gasps, and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. You’re quick to wrap a leg around his waist so that when he presses in again, you can force him to stay in place, if just to let him genuinely feel what it’s like to have a pussy clenching around him.

“You feel it?” You groan out, feeling his teeth pinch against your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body. 

He nods frantically, pulling your nipple with his lips as he does it. You can tell he’s drooling, wetting your chest in such an embarrassing way, but he’s so–Jay. He’s Jay. This is Jay.

You watch his face and the way he winces with each pulse of your hole quivering around the sheer size of him, and you coo out at him when his cock twitches in response. As if you can handle yourself right now, as if he can too.

Neither of you can comprehend the pleasure.

“Can’t believe I get to be your third.” You sing out. “You’re so good, so–”

“S-stop talking, fuck-” Jay calls out in a broken and choked gasp, feeling too turned on by the way you speak. He can’t help it when he forces his hips to move against the pressure of your leg trying to keep him in place. This time he fucks at a quicker pace. His mouth falls open against your breast and his hands shoot to your waist as he pulls himself up and opens his eyes. 

He watches the way your sticky cunt coats him as he slides in and out of you, fingers pressing so hard into your hips that you feel he could be bruising you. 

You’re so in awe of him losing complete control that you want nothing more than to cum with him inside of you. You quickly reach your hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive spot almost to the point that you could start crying out at how painful it truly is at this moment. You’ve never been this sensitive for a man, and yet, you’re coming undone beneath him and nearly losing as much control as he has. 

A mess of moans and groans is filling the room as Jay chases his high, and you are at the point that you want to say the nicest and dirtiest things to him out of sheer arousal. So you do, you talk, and you talk. Whispers of “girls would die to be fucked by you,” turn to screams of, “yeah, fuck Jongie, just like that!” 

It wasn’t until you moaned out, “Cum with me, now, Jongie, I can’t hold it–” when Jay ’s hips stuttered and his eyes closed tightly in a frustrated groan. “Stop–” He grunts, hips pressing impossibly hard against you. To the point that you scoot up on the table. “Stop, I’m–” He groans again, attempting to pull out so that he can release against your pulsing and empty pussy.

But you don’t let him.

Your legs hold him in place as you release your clit and pull yourself up on your arms just to grab against his neck and pull him down with you against the table. 

“Cum in me.” You nearly demand, holding his face so that he can’t look away from you.

You watch the way his pupils dilate more at the words and you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Then? His pupils are gone. He’s rolling his eyes back now, looking so fucking beautiful while doing it.

Jay’s eyebrows fall much like his mouth does when he cums. His hips are frantic but his face looks calm, and not a single sound releases from his lips. His breath is caught in his throat with each twitch, shooting ropes into you so deeply that you feel each wave of his pleasure hitting your cervix. 

  You’re very quick to rub your clit again, harsh and rough circles being amplified by the way his abdomen adds pressure to your hand with each push of his cock in you. It sends you over edge so fast, even he feels the clench, choking out each spurt of his remaining orgasm. 

You grab onto him harshly now, without a thought in your head besides kissing him. He kisses you back, realizing that despite having sex before, this may be the first time he’s ever made a girl cum. It’s certainly the first time he’s ever felt his cock being tugged by the walls of a pussy as it works itself through an orgasm, anyway.

Crazy thing is…he’s not done. Like, he can’t stop cumming. Lasting entirely far too long and far past sensitivity. Jay opens his eyes to look at you when you’re reaching the end of your own orgasm, all while he’s still filling you up, and even feeling his load bubble out from around him with each tight thrust. Your voice is beautifully raspy, and the way you hold onto him makes him feel like you should never let go. 

Upon his ears popping and finally emptied, he genuinely feels the mess between the two of you. Quickly, he pulls back and notes that the hem of his shirt is absolutely fucking soaked. In an attempt to take a small step back in order to remove himself from you, he nearly trips over his pants that had fallen to his ankles.

“Oh.” You laugh, wincing as you feel his cock leave you empty. “Probably should have undressed you.” Your eyes sparkle at the large damp spot, nearly making his shirt entirely see-through from just how soaked it really is. 

Jay steps out of his pants silently and just kind of stands there awkwardly, watching the cum spill from you. Then panic spreads across his face. 

“Um,” He croaks out, voice cracking almost immediately. “I– I couldn’t pull out…I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to.” You soothe him, noting how he’s right back to his awkward and shy persona the moment he’s finished fucking you. “It’s fine, I’m protected” You confirm for him, just to see the relief replace that panic.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So–” You comment, looking down at the wrinkled papers in front of you. “You really expect me to try and write at least 1200 words tonight?” 

Jay tilts his head at you, sitting with a blanket covering his entire body as his clothes go through the cycles of a wash. “If we hadn’t gotten off track, you could already be almost done with it.” 

“God, you are such a fucking bore.” You laugh, shivering at the cold air hitting your bare skin. “I’m literally naked right now and you’re making me do this right now?” 

“Finish your paper and we can talk about that. Besides, I kind of need to recover for more than thirty minutes from that, you know? I’m sensitive.” He shoots back, not afraid to sound as embarrassing as he truly is now. 

To his surprise, you nod with a cheeky smirk. Promising you any amount of him after what happened was enough to force your focus on your school work for now at least. Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he will always want to fuck stupid girls. If anything, Jay deserves someone who respects his work ethic and need to help others right? The huge cock is just a bonus when you think about it.

You know it’s going to be a hell of a month after tonight, but for the most part, you think that studying with Jay may have been your best college decision to date. You can learn a lot from him, and apparently... he can learn from you too. You just hope he doesn’t run off and use that knowledge on other girls once he realizes he’s definitely got the ability to break hearts. 

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[thecameronchronicles]

Heat of The Moment

TW: unhinged Rafe. Dominant sex. Dirty talk. Language. Oral sex. Hair pulling. Cum swallowing.

REQUESTED:

@gianadrichardson-blog

So the idea I have in my mind is that y/n and Rafe are dating and Rafe KNOWS that every guy wants y/n from tourons, college guys and even his best friends want her. So while y/n was out of town with her parents, Topper accidentally revealed that he had feelings for y/n and tried to date her while her and Rafe was in the talking stage. So Rafe calls y/n and sees where she at. When Rafe gets y/n location he shows up and let out his frustration he had and record them having sex with y/n then send to topper with the message “keep away from my girl”

Maybe y/n older brother have y/n phone and decided to play a prank on rafe acting like a guy had y/n phone

Heat of the Moment

"What the fuck, Top?!" Rafe accuses, holding Topper's phone high enough out of reach. But your pictures remain on the screen. More specifically, pictures the friend of your boyfriend shouldn't have.

"I- just stop it, man-"

"My girlfriend's tits are on your screen! What am I supposed to think?"

"She's in a bikini but it it doesn't matter okay? Just-just let me have it back." But Rafe smashes it before Topper can even brush his fingers against it. His finger is pointed in his former friend's face before he can right Rafe's actions that he believes wholeheartedly are justified.

"Rafe. When you and her were just talking, I...I thought I had a shot. I get that now, okay? I just, sometimes I wonder what if-"

"If I even see you looking at her after this, you won't be able to ever look again."

Rafe was already fuming. He was jealous and curious, both existing to a dangerous degree that meant his knuckles were bloodied more than healed and his voice hoarse from having defended you.

There wasn't a soul within a dramatic radius within the Outer Banks that didn't see your beauty. Whether it was the stunning way your eyes could focus and become instantly lustful with one look at your boyfriend or the way your voice warmed even the coldest of hearts, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what he had.

Perfection.

He just didn't expect to have to have to defend you to someone so close to him- someone who has apparently had feelings for you since before you were officially anything with Rafe. It makes his hands wrap tightly around the steering wheel and his foot practically punch a hole into the floor of his truck as he races across the Carolina road.

He never thought he left it to question. You were his. He was yours. It was as official as it could be without a ring or contract of marriage and yet he knew he needed to make it unquestionably true to the one person it mattered to.

So without a call or text in warning, he is pounding at your front door.

"Rafe? Are you okay baby, you-" He is over your threshold, face between your hands, your body pulled into his as he kisses you between words.

"You know I love you, yeah?" You nod with your hands coming up around his wrists. If you didn't trust him so gravely then you'd worry for the strength behind his hands as he brought you against him.

"You know I'd do anything for you?" He kisses with a grunt, more animal than the man you talked to earlier this morning.

"And that you say our word and it stops, no questions asked? That you know I put you first?" His forehead rests against yours as he waits for your agreement. It takes less than the time of a blink before he gets it.

"Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I hate you." He lifts you around him and up your steps, suddenly too far away from your room.

You were the complete opposite of touch starved and yet you felt as if you had been drowning without his touch, the first moment of contact being an exhale for relief. Only in the juxtaposition that was being his girlfriend it also made you lightheaded.

"Rafe-" His hand comes up over your mouth as he only manages to get to the steps and turns you to cover them. Your knees dig into the uncomfortable wood and yet all you can focus on is the heat of the moment.

"Need to use that word, baby?"

You shake your head as he guides your hands around the open spaces between the bars making up your bannister.

"Then hold on." His belt sounds first and then the rough fabric of his pants being shoved.

"Jesus Christ, baby, I don't even need to spit on my cock, so I?" He leans over you, kicking your legs just wide enough to leave some comfort in the angle. "Always so wet for me isn't that right?"

"Always!" You moan into his hand as he grins against your shoulder before reaching into his pocket.

You hear the wrapper of the confom being torn and make the mistake to turn and see him do it with his teeth. Something about the savagery of it and the heat behind his eyes, still possessing your care above all else, and it sends you drenching the valley awaiting him.

"Safe and-" He moans, a deep honey tone, that makes your toes curl knowing you wrap around him snuggly enough to cause such a reaction.

"Tight, baby! Fuck!" He hits the stairs beside your cheek and yet it does nothing to limit anything. If anything, it spurs you both on as his other hand releases your mouth and you're able to kiss the skin of his fist as if to soften his rigidity.

"How are you so sweet AND sexy-hmm? Always know just what I need don't you baby?" Your body wills itself to endure all that is Rafe Cameron. Every tension soiling his happiness now pumping through every snap of his hips until all that remains is the frustration you know he veils from you. Still, you trust that every shove of him into you is only a method of showing you he cares.

However, it has never been quite this possessive before. Quite this needy. Quite this deep or hard.

And you fucking love it.

His hands can't move fast enough and yet they are graceful and not amateur. He rolls your nipples as he kisses your neck, thrusting without break, and whispering every dirty thought you have constructed in your time apart.

And then he becomes completely and utterly unhinged. Taking you in his lap, he pulls you facing away from him, still seated to the root. He bounces you, one hand around your neck, as the other rubs your clit. It can't be comfortable for him with the wood beneath you and still he is too driven by the cries you're making in the sound of his name to care about anything but this next thrust-or the dozens that follow.

"Nobody knows just how dirty you get for me, isn't that right baby? How deep you take my dick in this perfect little pussy? Yeah?" He slaps your clit with just enough pressure to make you jolt until he lifts his hips and makes you forget of the sting it leaves behind.

"How loud you get? It's a miracle nobody has called the cops yet. You sound like you're in pain, shit-" He turns you to him with the grip around your neck moving to your jaw and turning you to him.

"You good baby?"

"Harder-"

"That's my fucking girl?" You're lifted with a gasp following you as he takes you into your room. You are only allowed the reprieve of wood beneath your soles for a second before he's rutting you into the bed. Hand pushing your face into the sheets to somewhat muffle your screaming, all you hear is the repetitive "yeah"s in the mix of your name as he wallows in you.

"Do I have to worry about anyone else ever knowing about how good you feel?" You are torn away from your blissful daze at the question.

"What?" You turn and face him, seeing the phone pointed towards you. The heat from your skin accelerated until it is now the marrow in your bones and you can't cool it, not that you want to.

"Who fucks you deep enough to make you soak his cock like this?"

"Rafe!" You manage as he pulls your hair and makes your back arch for him.

"Who makes you dizzy and shit when he knows just where to hit?"

He pulls you to him, against his chest until you can look up at him.

"Who loves you enough to prove to everyone on this goddamn island you're his?! Huh?"

"RAFE! GOD! YOU, RAFE?" You sob, the pleasure almost painful as he grips your hip with one hand and keeps the phone recording in the other. The video is shaky and then disposed of as his cum begins to shoot from his heavy balls and up his shaft.

"On your knees, baby-" He takes the phone back, pointing it to your face. As always, he kisses you sweetly and runs a thumb over your lips, before you take him behind your smirk.

"Ohhh baby-" You accept him slowly before opening your throat to him. Eyes locked and cheeks prepped to be hollow, you wait as he cocks his head before powering through. He thrusts.

Twice.

Once.

And then becomes a blur.

Only grunts and 'fucks' leave between moans.

"Shit baby, you're gonna make me come- you want it?" He asks, managing to open his eyes long enough to see you nod. Digging your nails into his thighs, you drive him to pulse into your throat, over your tongue, and along with your swallow.

"Open-" he points the camera to show just the good girl you are.

"I fucking love you, baby, and now nobody will question who you belong to again."

"I don't think they do, Rafe..." You laugh it off as he helps you to your feet and into his arms within your bed.

As you fall asleep, you hear him tapping away on his phone before finally focusing completely on you. You rest well within his arms, satisfied in the countless orgasms you had as he reached his own, sweet dreams awaiting you that pale in comparison to what it means to be loved by Rafe.

Across town, Topper's phone buzzes. A video file from Rafe. The new phone, bought not even ten minutes after his last one was smashed sits in wait for the message.

MP4 file.

It is opened. The sound of slurping around the impressive shaft, angry and near completion is spliced with the sight of you spread for him on the stairs as well as the hip of the bed. Your cries are only of pleasure and they echo as the video plays.

"Stay away from my girl." Comes a warning meant for Topper.

Only it isn't Topper's eyes that come to the scene.

And it isn't Topper's life that gets the threat.

It is your brother's and he has just been waiting for an excuse to let out his own rage out against Rafe.

MASTERLIST

[brunchable]

FREAKY FRIDAY | Body Swapped Steve Rogers x f!reader.

Pairings: Johnny Storm Possessed Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Body Swap. Sexual Themes. Funny? Horndog Johnny, for an unknown reason, body-swapped with Steve. Summary: You woke up with Steve suddenly out of character and having an overflowing amount of rizz. A/N: It's comedy central in my blog this week. . . I can't help but insert one particular meme lmao

taggies: @mrsevans90

Like you did every morning, you woke up to the gentle warmth of Steve next to you, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you today. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face. 

"Morning, gorgeous," he murmured, his voice smoother than usual. You blinked in surprise. Sure, Steve was affectionate, but this was... new. 

You smiled back, albeit a little wary. 

"Good morning?" Before you could say anything more, he captured your lips in a kiss that was how to describe it-more confident, more playful than his usual gentle morning kisses. You pulled back slightly, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Wow, someone's in a good mood today,” you said, trying to shake off the weird vibe. 

Steve just grinned and gave you a little wink. "What can I say? I'm just appreciating my girl." 

You squirmed under his intense gaze. You couldn't help but notice how his hand casually trailed down your arm, lingering a little longer than usual. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered or... flustered.

“Should we stay in bed a little while? You know…” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively as he wiggled his brows.

But this time, he didn’t stop there. As he leaned in closer, he slowly stuck out his tongue and wiggled it playfully, making his intentions blatantly clear.

Your face immediately turned bright red.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hand to his lips and pushed him away to stop him before he got any closer, utterly flustered by the suggestive gesture.

He chuckled against your hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. For a second, you felt him wiggle his tongue against your palm, teasing you further before you jerked your hand back with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

“Unbelievable!” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more.

He gave you a devilish grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.

“What? Just offering some ideas, sweetheart,” he teased, giving you a playful wink.

“No, Sam’s going to be here soon for your morning run, so go prepare.”

The excitement drained from his face, “I do?” 

“Yes!” 

Johnny—or rather, the man you thought was Steve—let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your refusal. This wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was always respectful, sweet, and… well, a gentleman. But today? He seemed like a different man entirely.

“Guess I forgot,” he said with a smirk, sitting up slowly and stretching. His tone was casual, but the grin he gave you was anything but innocent.

As he shifted in bed, he leaned back casually and gave a quick, deliberate glance downwards before gesturing toward the noticeable outline in his sweatpants. The fabric clung snugly, revealing the distinct, firm shape of his dick pressing against the material, enough to leave little to the imagination.

“But if you change your mind about staying in bed…” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you know where to find me.”

You blinked in disbelief, your cheeks burning as he got out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. He threw one last playful wink at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you there in a state of complete confusion.

"What the hell is going on with him today?" you muttered to yourself.

You climbed out of bed and started to get ready for the day, you tried to shake off the feeling that something was… off. Maybe Steve was just in a playful mood? Maybe he was testing out some new approach to your relationship, though you couldn't help but wonder where it had come from all of a sudden.

But, soon enough, you heard the front door open and Sam's voice echoed through the apartment. "Yo, Rogers! Are you ready for our run?"

You peeked out from the bedroom just in time to see "Steve" step out of the bathroom, giving you another grin before heading out to meet Sam. He greeted him casually, as if everything was perfectly normal.

Sam looked over at you with a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Morning.”

“Morning,” you replied, though your voice sounded more distant than usual. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look directly at Sam, worried your face might give away just how weird the morning had been.

As they left for their run, you were left alone, still wondering why Steve was acting so differently. But then, you shook your head. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe he was just feeling particularly confident today. Either way, it was Steve, your Steve, and you trusted him.

Right?

× × × ×

You made breakfast while ‘Steve’ is out on a run. You tried to shake off your confusion by busying yourself with making coffee. It wasn't helping. The memory of Steve's unusually bold behaviour lingered in your mind. 

And just when you were about to pour yourself a cup, you felt a sudden smack on your ass. You yelped in surprise, nearly spilling the coffee. Whipping around, you saw Steve standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking very proud of himself. 

"Steve!" you gasped, your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. "What are you—" 

"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. "Just saying hello." 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “By smacking me on my ass?”

“Can't help it, you look too cute when you're all focused," he teased, stepping closer. 

His hands slid around your waist, and before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. Your breath hitched. This was not the Steve Rogers you knew. But as much as his behaviour was throwing you off, you couldn't deny the butterflies his actions stirred in your stomach. 

"Steve, what's gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Instead of answering, Steve leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose—until you were giggling uncontrollably.

“Steve, stop it!” you laughed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your laughter was cut short as his lips trailed lower, brushing down to the side of your neck. The playful atmosphere shifted instantly, your breath hitching in your throat. His kisses became more deliberate, slow and teasing, sending sparks of heat through your skin.

“Steve…” you whispered, but your words melted into a quiet gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear. He lingered there, pressing soft, lingering kisses, making your pulse race.

His warm breath fanned over your skin, and without warning, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking gently but with enough pressure that you knew he was leaving a mark. A deep, guttural hum escaped him as he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled your body against him.

The sensation of his lips and the gentle tugging of his teeth made your head spin, and you instinctively tilted your head, giving him better access. 

“Steve,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his.

“Can’t help it,” he muttered against your skin between kisses. “You drive me crazy.”

His voice was low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. He sucked on your neck again, his tongue flicking over the spot before he pulled back slightly to admire his work.

"You’re gonna have to explain this one," he murmured with a grin, his lips ghosting over your ear, still hovering close enough to keep you breathless.

× × × ×

For the next hour, you tried to regain some composure, but it was hard with the heat of Steve’s kisses still tingling on your neck. Every time you moved, you could feel the slight sting of the mark he’d left behind, a not-so-gentle reminder of how wild this morning had been.

After making the bed and tidying up, you decided to head to the living room to relax for a bit, hoping that "Steve" had calmed down from whatever flirty streak had taken over him. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little… off. He's been too quiet.

You stepped into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

There, casually sprawled on the couch, was Steve in his birthday suit. Stark naked. The only thing covering him was your guitar, strategically placed across his lap. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch, while his free hand strummed lazily at the strings.

He looked up as if nothing was out of the ordinary, a casual, half-lidded grin spreading across his face. 

“Hey,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Steve… what the hell are you doing?” you finally stammered, struggling to form coherent words as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.

He shrugged nonchalantly, still strumming the guitar. 

“Just thought I’d serenade my girl.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this guitar thing.”

Your cheeks flamed red as your gaze flickered between his shamelessly exposed body and the guitar that, frankly, wasn’t doing the best job at covering much.

“Put some clothes on!” you squeaked, your face burning from the sight in front of you. “What if someone walks in? Sam might—"

“Sam’s gone,” he cut in smoothly, winking. “It’s just you and me, babe.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by your reaction. “Besides, you weren’t complaining this morning.”

You could feel the heat rising to your face again, this time in full force. "That doesn't mean you get to... to do this!" 

He just smirked, lazily leaning back on the couch, the guitar still resting against him. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Steve, for the love of everything, PLEASE, just put some clothes on,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow erase the image from your brain.

Instead of listening, he suddenly stood up, the guitar still barely covering anything, and with the confidence of someone performing at a sold-out show, he started singing. Loudly. 

“And you're kissin' on my neck, I'm like, “Oh”, Got your hands up on my chest, I'm like, “Oh”” he belted out dramatically, grinning ear to ear as he took a step toward you, his voice echoing through the room. 

You panicked. 

"Oh my God, Steve! No!" you squealed, immediately clamping your hands over your ears, turning away from him as fast as possible

“Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left, Oh my god, oh my god!” he sang even louder, walking toward you like some rock star, his guitar still precariously covering him as he inched closer. 

You darted behind the coffee table, creating a barrier between the two of you, your face blazing red. 

“Lalalalalalalala!” You covered your ears tighter, trying to block out the sight and sound of your naked boyfriend serenading you. “Lalalalalalala! I can't hear you.”

But he wasn't stopping. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him further. 

“Why are you running, baby?”

He grinned wickedly, circling around the coffee table like a predator playing with his prey. "You could really tear me apart, but- I love you like that, Everything you do just turns me on, I love you like that, Body on my mind like all night long.” 

You squeaked and moved in the opposite direction, keeping the table between you, but Steve—guitar still precariously positioned—was unstoppable, matching your every move. It was ridiculous, like a slow-motion chase scene in a rom-com, but you couldn’t help but laugh through your embarrassment.

"Steve! Seriously, stop!" you cried out, ducking and weaving as he chased you around the table, his singing never faltering.

"I love you like that!" he belted, reaching out with one hand as if trying to grab you. You yelped, dodging him by moving to the other side.

"Lalalalalalalala!" you cried, your hands clamped tighter over your ears as you rushed toward the door, desperate to escape.

His laughter echoed in the living room, the sound of his voice-and that ridiculous guitar performance following you as you fled to the safety of the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him laughing even harder. 

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" he called after you, his voice still tinged with amusement. 

You leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your face still burning red. Today was officially out of control. 

And this wasn't the Steve Rogers you signed up for.

× × × × 

As the day finally wound down, you were still trying to recover from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded earlier. After a long, flirty, and borderline chaotic day with “Steve,” you were just glad it was almost bedtime.

You had managed to avoid another musical performance from him after the whole guitar incident, but the playful energy hadn’t completely faded. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching your every move.

“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

He was lounging on the bed, shirtless now, with that same mischievous grin you’d been seeing all day. 

“What?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

You rolled your eyes and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth. “You know exactly what.”

He laughed, the sound low and smooth as he got up and sauntered over to you, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor. Before you could react, he was behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I was just admiring how cute you look in your pajamas,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You sighed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to the heat of his skin against yours. 

“Steve, it’s been a long day,” you said, your voice weary but laced with affection. “Can we just... go to bed? Without any more surprises?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering for just a second before pulling away with a grin. 

“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll behave.”

You gave him a playful glare, narrowing your eyes as you turned to face him. “You said that earlier today, and then I walked into the living room and—”

“Okay, this time I’ll behave,” he interrupted with a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Promise.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. He may have been driving you absolutely crazy today, but this version of Steve—or Johnny, whoever he really was—was still undeniably charming in his own chaotic way.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you both crawled into bed, the covers cool against your skin. Steve—or, well, Johnny—rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gazed at you with that playful smirk.

“You sure you don’t want a little bedtime serenade?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive.

You groaned and pulled the blanket up over your head, burying yourself beneath the covers. “No!” you said, your voice muffled. “We’re done with that for today!”

He laughed again, the sound warm and contagious as he settled down beside you. The teasing faded, replaced by a softer, more familiar warmth as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentle now as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

You peeked out from under the covers, smiling despite yourself. “Goodnight, Steve.”

As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this flirty version of Steve would last—and whether or not you were ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stirred awake, the early light filtering through the curtains, and you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms slipping around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into the embrace at first—until the events of the previous day rushed back to you. Your eyes snapped open, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped slightly, pulling away from the arms that had suddenly felt different, your heart pounding.

“Whoa, hey—what’s wrong?” Steve's voice came out soft, laced with confusion and concern. You turned over to face him, and instantly, you could tell something had changed. His eyes weren’t twinkling mischievously, there was no sly grin or playful wink. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you again.

“Steve?” you whispered, your voice hesitant, scanning his face. He looked… like himself again. That quiet, gentle warmth was back, the one that had been missing yesterday.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, still looking concerned. “Are you okay? You jumped like I startled you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft and careful, nothing like the bold, confident gestures from the day before.

You blinked at him, your mind racing. The contrast between today and yesterday was stark. Yesterday, he had been all cocky smirks and teasing touches, constantly riling you up. But now? Now, Steve seemed completely aware of what had happened, but wasn’t letting on.

“I—uh, I’m fine,” you stammered, still trying to process it all. “You just… caught me off guard.”

Steve frowned, clearly still confused by your reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your arm as he studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but your heart was still racing. "Yeah… you’re just… different from yesterday."

His brow furrowed further, but now there was something else behind his eyes. He looked like he was holding something back. “Different? What do you mean?” he asked, though you could sense he already knew.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Yesterday, you were just… more… flirty,” you said carefully, watching his reaction. “Like, a lot more. You were… singing to me. Naked. With my guitar.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning red almost instantly, but there was something else—recognition. “What? I—I did that?” He didn’t seem shocked by the words, more by the fact that you were telling him.

You nodded, your own face heating up at the memory. “Yeah. And you were… really, really bold. Smacking my butt, picking me up, kissing me all over…"

Steve's gaze drifted down, and before you could even say another word, his fingers gently brushed against your neck, right where Johnny had left that bold mark. His touch was tender at first, but the moment his thumb traced over the small bruise, his entire expression shifted. 

"That motherfucker! I'm going to kill him!”

[seananmcguire]

I'm sorry I've been following you for a long time and I understand that you're suspicious of asks you weren't expecting, but implying that all fundraisers from people - a lot of them having been vetted and verified by multiple outside sources - are automatically spam does more harm than good. A lot of these people are not native English speakers and don't have experience navigating English social media, excuse them for not sounding 'natural'. I'm not saying scammers don't exist or that you shouldn't investigate the fundraisers you see, but respectfully, to paint them all as scammers is dangerous and only helps as an excuse to erode your empathy.

This is a fair and balanced response, and I thank you for sending it to me. That said, there's "not sounding natural," and there's "ten copies of the same Ask, which uses the exact wording used by five others from another source, all built mostly of emojis.

I do investigate fundraisers from trusted sources, but I cannot investigate twenty a day in my Ask box. I never agreed to that, it's not why I'm here, and polite requests have been ignored, which is leading to me feeling a lot more wary. I did not mean to imply that all fundraisers are scams or spam. Just that I'm getting flooded out over here, and enough other people are experiencing the same that Ask boxes are closing across the site.

Also, as friends have pointed out, all the other fundraiser requests have basically gone away. No more "please save my cat" Asks from blogs created yesterday. It's hard not to see these as connected.

Anyway: I do not think all requests from aid are scams or spam, and I do look at vetted fundraisers. I do think inbox requests when not asked for explicitly are difficult to trust or verify.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Rafayel: Habanbonkas | NSFW

I am obsessed with man tiddies y'all. I can't help it. Let me suck on them.

Pairings: Rafayel x Reader Warnings: Sucking boobies, slight crack, subtle grinding, switch Rafayel, bottom Rafayel, Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

"Let me just play with them. Paint them. Touch then. Caress them!" You said as you grabbed onto Rafayel's arm." You grabbed onto Rafayel's arm. You were basically whining as you grabbed hold of him, trying to convince him to let you do something with his chest.

He had been trying to walk away from you, go to the kitchen and grab something to eat. You weren't about to let him though, you absolutely needed to do something about his chest. He had gotten a lot of paint on his shirt earlier when he accidentally fell onto his paint palette, and instead of going to change his shirt, he just took it off and was painting shirtless.

You had been staring at him ever since. How his chest seemed to move every time he took in a deep breath, the slightest jiggle of his pecs whenever he shifted. You had literally been drooling over the thought of this man and you needed him in every which way.

"I feel like I'm getting deja-vu…" He muttered as he opened the fridge to look inside. You were still tugging his arm, but the man wasn't budging.

"Please Raf, let me just suck on your tiddies! They're massive. They're huge. Perfect. Your habanbonkas are delectable!" you whined out loud and Rafayel closed the fridge and looked at you. His arms crossed over his chest to hide it a bit from your view. You could see the slightest flush on his cheeks as he glared down at you.

"Why are you so obsessed with them?" He finally asked and you stared at him for a moment. A few more seconds of silence passed between the two of you before you decided to just show him exactly why you were obsessed with his chest.

You took the bottom of your shirt and lifted it all the way, showing Rafayel your chest in the middle of the kitchen. You had nothing underneath the shirt since you were planning on going to bed soon. You could see his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he stared down at your chest for a little too long.

His gaze then snapped back to your own, his cheeks completely scarlet as he opened his mouth to say something. You dropped your shirt down and smirked, "Understand why I'm so obsessed with your own chest now?"

Rafayel took a deep breath, "Okay, understandable, you have a point. So what did you want? To just…suck on them?" He finally asked with a sigh.

"That's exactly what I want actually." You were grabbing his hand and dragging him back to the living area. Rafayel let out a noise of protest as you began dragging him down onto the couch. As soon as he was there you were sitting on his lap. His hands found your hips right away since you had been in this position with him many times in the past.

"You have five minutes." he decided, "And then I get to play with your chest." this was agreeable. There was a lot you could do in five minutes.

You didn't even speak as you went to kiss right between his chest. Both your hands going to grope one of his tits as you squeezed them together. Your thumb flicked the nipples there before just squeezing the taut skin. You heard a small gasp from him as your actions and you smirked as you placed another kiss on his skin.

Then your mouth was going to wrap around one of his nipples. Your tongue swirled over it as you let out a content hum, your other hand pinching the nipple that wasn't occupied by your mouth. Rafayel let out another small, cute noise as he rolled his hips up into you without even thinking about it.

You continued these motions, coming off one of his nipples with a loud wet pop. The bud was hardened and wet as your thumb went over it. Rafayel let out a proper groan this time when your mouth found his other nipple. You began lapping at it, sucking it into your mouth and he hissed when he felt your teeth gently grazing it.

"A-ah," he said as he noticed the time, "It's my t-turn mhn!" he said as you bit down a bit harder and looked up at him. You gave it one more lick and popped off it as well.

"You sure you want me to take a break from this?" You asked, noticing how hard he was.

Rafayel looked away from you with a flush, "Yes," he finally said and you sighed. You shifted on his lap to back away. You then went to take off your own shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch.

You took one of his hands and placed it over one of your breasts, "Alright, then you have five minutes." you said with a smirk, "Then I think after I want to play with you using my mouth a lil more." you chuckled and he groaned.

You ground down on his lap and he finally moved forward, "Is that a promise?" he asked as you brushed his bangs out of his face.

"Of course, I want every part of you in my mouth, fishie. Now go on, we had a deal," you chuckled and he looked down at your chest. Five minutes. Only five minutes and you'd have him moaning from your mouth again. You guess letting him play with your chest would be worth it for that.

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (07)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~

Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.

coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything

As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.

“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.

“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”

Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”

“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”

“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”

“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”

“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”

“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”

“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.

“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”

“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”

“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”

Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”

‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.

‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’

Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.

“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”

“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”

A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”

You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”

“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”

Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.

When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”

Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”

“Five!?”

“Yes, five.”

“And, you were still able to sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.

“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.

“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”

“Have you ever hopped on trends?”

“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”

You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.

“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.

“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.

The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.

“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”

“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”

“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”

“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”

“Was he scary?”

“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”

“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”

All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”

An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”

Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”

“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”

“No, get your own.”

“Ah, hyung!”

You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.

“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”

“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”

“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”

Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.

“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”

That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.

Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.

Beauty and the Beasts

mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?

princess: erm… another 15 mins?

princess: …

princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?

All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.

mingoo: coups hyung

vernonnie: cheol hyung

nonu: seungcheol

cheol: i did

cheol: i got you your coffee order btw

mingoo: what about us?

cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library

mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too

cheol: yes

cheol: and they’re only for ___

cheol: so don’t try to steal them

Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”

Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”

“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”

“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”

“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”

Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.

“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”

“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”

“He probably has it written down somewhere?”

“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.

He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.

“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”

As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.

___: hey woo?

___: is it ok if i call you that-

wonwoo: yes?

wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine

___: ok

___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!

___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work

___: n since you’re a psych major

wonwoo: you need my help, yes?

___: bingo

___: is it possible for you to help me?

wonwoo: sure thing

wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?

wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day

___: don’t the others have class?

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.

wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc

wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour

___: oh, cool!

___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion

“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.

“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”

“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”

“Should we play cupid?”

“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”

Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”

Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”

“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”

“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”

Later that night…

gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896

[goteique]

| JAZZ & JASMINE + SYLUS. 

+cw. — fem!(captive)reader, fluff, teasing, humor, sexual tension, highly suggestive.

+wc. — 0.6k 

+syn.— sylus makes an attempt to soothe you in his own way as your suffer from a nightmare.

+notes. —sorry but his flirt game is so bad that it makes me cry. thnaks to sam ( @hayatoseyepatch ) for beta reading this piece. | redirect to blog navigation.

You have been tossing and turning in bed yet Sylus made sure not to keep up the pin-drop silence you needed to rest, to get used to your surroundings. Sometimes it is amusing given how sensitive you are to him but apparently, not now. 

You wake up in a frenzy feeling the thumping of your heart inside your ears, eyes wide open like it has not slept for a while. The first thing you see is Sylus hovering above you. “Get off me,” you try to swat him away but he does not move a bit but the back of his fingers tilts his face under the influence.  “What did you do now?” You ask but all you receive is a raise of one of his eyebrows.

“Relax.” He walks around the bed. Your eyes follow him as he halts, one of his hands still tucked behind his back. Is he hiding something? He is standing at the foot of the bed, now with both of his arms neatly tucked behind his back. You scoot away towards the head side. It puts a smile on his face. There you are, as lively as ever. Not a moment passes by when you are not scared of him or resisting him. He walks around the bed stilling as he comes near the bedside table. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Sylus finally reveals what he is holding behind his back “Here.”

Eyes embedded with ruby-like pupils grew linear as you posed a question while staring at the bouquet of Jasmine. “You got me flowers?” You lean a little closer as he holds the bouquet. No. It doesn’t smell suspicious. It smells like Jasmine indeed. 

“Why you don’t like it?” You raise your eyes at him, lips forming a pout. Your attention falls on his pecs and muscles. He is in his night robe which means either he was sleeping or working. He grows impatient as you do not take the bouquet away from his hands so he keeps it in the water-filled vase.

“Why’re you awake?”  you ask so many questions. Ever heard of, “Curiosity killed the cat.”

Sylus looks at you, inspecting, and then jocks down in a flash almost closing the gap between you and him. “You see, his fisted hands rest on the mattress of the bed creating dips, I’m a creature of the night.” Is he even wearing anything underneath that loosely tied robe?

You lean closer. “Like a vampire or something ?” You whisper lest if someone hears.

His eyes trail off to your slightly parted lips while he wets his bottom lip. “Wanna find out? I could be something deadlier. . . ” Sylus notices as you swallow. Why are you so afraid of him? What did he ever do to you, huh?

“Good God.I’m just teasing. Relax.”He moves away from you turning around and pressing the bridge of his nose. This is not going anywhere. But you beg to differ.

“You’re going to sleep?” Sylus turns his head towards you and seeing you sitting at the edge of the bed surprises him, gives him a little hope so he follows it.

“Oh, how can I when someone else has occupied my bed.” Aah! perhaps not that fast.

“Like it's my fault as you lose your sleep,” you tartly reply looking away. Apparently, you are but he will get to that later.

He lets out a chuckle and sits on the lounge chair nearby crossing his legs. You are forced to rake your eyes away because you are sure that he is not wearing anything else except that night robe. “I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep.” He takes the book and his specs from his reading table.

Like hell, you can now.  

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us IX

Summary:

In the wake of Y.N's departure, Aemond wallows in his heartbreak until a surprising person comes to his aid and as certain revelations come to light Aemond is determined to fight for his relationship and show Y.N how much he loves her.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Swearing, Idiocy, Revelations, Memories, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 7340

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

The days that followed Y.N.’s departure blurred into an agonizing haze for Aemond. He spent most of his time on the sofa, whiskey bottle in hand, sinking deeper into despair.

The once pristine penthouse was now littered with empty bottles, discarded clothes, and half-eaten food. He hadn't showered, hadn't gone to work. He was lost in his grief, his regret festering with every passing hour.

He lay face down on the sofa, the leather cold against his skin as the weight of everything bore down on him. His thoughts spiralled as the familiar sting of tears pricked his eye again.

The door creaked open, but he didn’t bother to move. He assumed it was some kind of hallucination, a product of his misery coming to taunt him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. Startled, he turned his head and blinked up at the figure standing beside him.

It was Aegon.

Without a word, Aegon knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around Aemond’s trembling body, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace.

Aemond’s resolve crumbled completely. The sobs he had been trying to suppress for days burst out, raw and broken, as he clung to his brother like a lifeline.

Aegon held him firmly, his hand gently running over the back of Aemond’s head, hushing him softly. "It’s okay," he whispered. "Just let it out, Aemond. I’ve got you."

Aemond's words were barely coherent through the tears. "How-how did you know?" he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow.

Aegon sighed softly, still holding him. "Y.N”

Aemond pulled back slightly, his swollen eye searching his brother’s face. "Is she with you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperate for any hint of hope.

Aegon shook his head, his expression soft with sympathy. "No, she’s not. She called and asked me to come check on you”

“D-Do you know where she is?” asked Aemond.

“No. She didn’t tell me where she is. She just-wanted to make sure you were okay."

Aemond’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She hadn’t abandoned him completely—she still cared enough to send Aegon.

But the uncertainty of where she was, whether she’d ever come back, gnawed at him like a festering wound.

"I’ve lost her, Aegon," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’ve lost everything."

Aegon looked at him with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You haven’t lost everything. You’ve still got a chance to fix this, but not if you keep drowning yourself in booze." He glanced around the messy penthouse and sighed. "You need to pull yourself together, brother."

Aemond shook his head, tears spilling down his face again. "I don’t know if I can. I pushed her away. I let Alys-I let her ruin everything."

Aegon tightened his grip on his shoulder. "You made a mistake. But you don’t get to give up now. Not on her, not on Jack." His voice softened, filled with an unusual tenderness. "She loves you, Aemond. I’ve seen it. And you love her. So, fight for her. Fight for your family."

Aemond swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe the tears from his face. He was a mess, broken beyond recognition.

But Aegon’s words pierced through the fog of despair just enough to remind him of what he still had—a chance, however small, to make things right.

"Where do I even start?" Aemond whispered, more to himself than to Aegon.

Aegon gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Start by cleaning yourself up. Get back on your feet. And when she’s ready to listen, you tell her everything. You show her how much she means to you. But first, you need to be the man she fell in love with—not this."

Aemond nodded weakly, the weight of his guilt and sorrow still heavy on his chest, but for the first time in days, a faint glimmer of hope flickered inside him.

He wasn’t ready to give up on Y.N. Not yet.

After days of wallowing in self-pity, Aemond finally stood up, determined to clean himself up—both literally and figuratively.

The penthouse was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Empty bottles, crumpled clothes, and discarded takeout containers were strewn everywhere.

He started with the mess. Collecting the bottles, he threw them into the recycling bin, tidied up the living room, and straightened the cushions on the sofa.

With each action, he felt a sliver of control returning, a faint hope that he could fix not just the penthouse but his life, too. When the living space was back in order, he made his way to the bathroom.

A long shower followed, steam filling the room as he stood beneath the hot water. Afterward, he shaved, carefully watching his own reflection in the mirror.

His face, now clean-shaven, still bore the marks of sleepless nights and too much drinking, but it was a start. He dressed in a crisp suit, as if putting on armour, preparing for the day ahead.

The next morning, Aemond arrived at the office, trying to compose himself. He sat in his chair, hands on the desk, staring blankly at the papers in front of him when the door opened.

Rhaenyra walked in, her presence commanding the room immediately. She shut the door behind her and gave him a stern look, arms crossed.

"Where have you been, Aemond?" she asked, her tone sharp. "You’ve missed the last few days without a word."

Aemond sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Y.N. left me," he admitted, his voice quiet but heavy with pain. "She took Jack and I didn’t take it well."

Rhaenyra’s expression softened slightly. "Does this have anything to do with Alys?" she asked, and Aemond’s head snapped up in surprise.

"How do you know about that?"

"I overheard Larys arguing with her. I’m sure you’re not surprised, considering how intertwined our businesses can be."

Aemond frowned, leaning forward. "What was said?"

Rhaenyra sat down across from him. "Larys wasn’t too happy with her vendetta against you. Apparently, he warned her off a while ago. When she wouldn’t back off, he cut ties with her."

Aemond’s expression darkened. "She told me she parted ways with Larys to pursue her own career."

Rhaenyra scoffed. "Not exactly. She was trying to go it alone because Larys ended their partnership. He didn’t want her personal issues interfering with his deals, especially with Targaryen Inc."

Aemond felt a deep pang of humiliation. "I feel like a fool. I even recommended clients to her."

Rhaenyra gave him a pointed look. "It’s a shame then that the clients you recommended had contracts signed with Targaryen Inc, not with Alys’s company."

Aemond blinked. "How?"

"It was a mix-up with one of the assistants. They handed over the wrong contracts for the clients to sign. A total misunderstanding, of course. The assistant has been reprimanded, but the contracts remain valid."

Aemond shook his head. "So, I’ve been recommending clients to her, but they’re still contracted with us."

"Exactly. But you need to cut ties with Alys—completely. She’s not going to be happy when she realizes those clients aren’t really hers."

Aemond nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m done with her. I should’ve been done with her the moment she reached out. I was trying to right a wrong, but all I did was make things worse."

Rhaenyra regarded him thoughtfully. "Don’t be too hard on yourself, Aemond. Any man who tries to fix his mistakes isn’t a total fool."

Aemond scoffed. "Well, I sure feel like one. It’s cost me Y.N. and Jack."

Rhaenyra smiled faintly. "Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Y.N. is entitled to feel angry and hurt, but it’s because she loves you. I could tell by the way she talked about you."

Aemond furrowed his brow, hope flickering in his chest. "Wait-how do you know?"

Rhaenyra slid a piece of card across the desk toward him. Aemond picked it up, staring at the address written on it.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"It’s where Y.N. and Jack are staying."

Aemond’s heart pounded. "I didn’t know where she was," he said quietly, almost in disbelief.

"That’s why Y.N. came to me," Rhaenyra explained. "She needed some time away to think things through. She just needed space."

Aemond met Rhaenyra’s eyes, his voice softer now. "Why are you helping me? We haven’t always been close."

Rhaenyra’s smile was gentle, almost wistful. "No, we haven’t. But we’re family, Aemond. And perhaps if things had gone differently in the past, we would’ve been closer. Nothing can make up for the loss of your eye, but maybe this is a start."

Aemond watched her rise from her chair, and as she reached the door, he called out, curiosity tugging at him.

“The assistant that mixed up the contracts-who was it?"

Rhaenyra smiled as she turned back to him, amusement in her eyes. "It was Jacaerys." With that, she left the office, leaving Aemond to stare after her, the card still clutched in his hand.

He looked down at the address, hope swelling in his chest once again. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to fix everything.

Aemond stepped into the elevator, the metallic doors sliding shut behind him with a soft ping. He glanced up and froze when he saw Jacaerys standing at the far end of the lift.

For a few long seconds, silence stretched between them, thick and awkward.

Aemond cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Rhaenyra told me what happened with the contracts for Alys."

Jace shifted slightly, crossing his arms. "Yeah, unfortunate mistake," he said casually, though the underlying meaning wasn’t lost on either of them. "Guess I wasn’t paying enough attention."

Aemond's gaze sharpened, and he turned to face Jace fully. "Why did you do it?"

Jacaerys sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor before he met Aemond’s one-eyed stare. "My mother wasn’t the only one to overhear Larys and Alys arguing, I heard what she said about wanting to get back at you-”

Aemond was taken aback. He hadn't expected Jace to get involved in this, not after everything between them. "But-you hate me," Aemond said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

Jace shook his head. "I don’t hate you, Aemond. I just really dislike you." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Aemond huffed a quiet, surprised laugh. "There’s a slight difference."

Aemond looked down, almost disbelieving at this turn of events. He hadn’t expected Jacaerys of all people to interfere in a way that helped him. "Thank you."

Jace shrugged, his tone dismissive. "I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Y.N." He paused, his voice softening slightly. "I thought that she was the love of my life. But I’m not hers. You are"

The elevator doors pinged open at the ground floor, revealing the lobby ahead.

Aemond stood there, stunned, processing Jace’s words. He blinked, still finding it hard to believe.

"Even after everything that’s happened?" Aemond asked, his voice low.

Jace gave a small, encouraging nod. "Yes. Even after everything." He met Aemond’s eye seriously before jerking his head toward the exit. "Now stop wasting time talking to me and go get your girl."

Aemond nodded, gratitude bubbling up inside him as he stepped out of the lift. "Thanks again."

Jace smirked and called out after him, "Let’s not make a habit out of this."

As the elevator doors slid shut behind him, Aemond felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest.

The world seemed a little brighter, and for the first time in days, the path ahead didn’t feel so uncertain.

Jace's words echoed in his mind, propelling him forward. It was time to fix what he had broken, he just needed to figure out how.

Aemond stood in front of the modest block of flats, feeling a lump form in his throat as he stared up at the building. This was the address Rhaenyra had given him.

He clutched a bouquet of pink roses tightly in his hand, trying to steel his nerves.

Before he could gather his thoughts, the blare of his car horn startled him. He whipped around to see Aegon leaning out the window, impatient.

"Come the fuck on, Aemond! Get up there, I’m bored of waiting," Aegon called out.

Aemond snapped, "It’s been five minutes!"

"More like five years with how slow you’re moving. Just get up there, and text me if she agrees or not." Aegon flicked through the car’s radio as if this was just another one of his casual outings.

With a huff, Aemond turned back to the building and walked through the entrance, leaving Aegon to amuse himself.

Inside, the place was quiet, starkly different from his sleek penthouse or even Y.N.’s old apartment. This was simpler, more modest.

He called for the lift, his heart pounding as it carried him to the fifth floor. He stepped out, taking slow strides down the hallway until he reached apartment 143.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N. standing there, looking as beautiful and calm as ever despite the tension between them.

Aemond cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

Y.N. stepped aside, silently motioning for him to enter. As he walked in, he handed her the bouquet. "These are for you."

She accepted them with a small smile. "Thank you." As she moved to put the roses in a jug of water, Aemond glanced around the apartment.

It was bare, minimal, but it felt warm and lived in. His gaze fell on Jack, nestled in a small pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, wide awake and squirming.

Aemond’s voice softened. "May I?"

Y.N. nodded. "He just woke up."

Aemond knelt beside his son, feeling a surge of emotion as Jack recognized him, flashing a gummy smile.

His little legs kicked in excitement, and Aemond’s heart melted.

He scooped him up, holding him close and inhaling his baby scent. "Daddy’s missed you so much, little one."

Y.N., meanwhile, busied herself with arranging the roses in a jug. "I don’t have a vase," she explained almost apologetically. "I don’t have much of anything here, really. Just the basics."

Aemond glanced at her. "Are you okay for money? For things for Jack?"

"I’m fine," she assured him, though her voice was soft, almost distant. "I figured you came here to talk."

"I did." Aemond nodded, still cradling Jack in his arms as he paced around the apartment. "What made you turn to Rhaenyra for help?"

"I went to Helaena first," Y.N. said, not meeting his gaze. "But it was her who contacted Rhaenyra. We both knew you’d come around eventually, and I didn’t want to bring trouble to Helaena’s door."

Aemond frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "I would never hurt Helaena."

Y.N. finally looked up at him. "Just like you wouldn’t hurt Aegon? He told me you punched him in the face."

Aemond grimaced. "I thought Aegon didn’t know where you were."

"He didn’t." Y.N. raised an eyebrow. "There is such a thing as text messages, you know."

Aemond sighed, bouncing Jack gently in his arms as he moved around the apartment, trying to find the right words. "Did Rhaenyra tell you about Alys?"

"The mistake with the contracts or her vendetta against you?" Y.N. asked, her voice steady but edged with hurt.

Aemond let out a humourless laugh. "Both."

"Yes, she told me," Y.N. said, her tone shifting to something softer.

Aemond nodded, guilt gnawing at him. "I feel like a fool," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I just-I thought I was making amends for what happened, trying to right my wrongs. But I see now how wrong I was."

"I know," Y.N. said quietly, watching him as he held their son. There was no malice in her voice, only weariness.

"As angry as I am at you, I’m angry at myself too," she added after a beat. Aemond looked up, surprised.

"Why?" he asked.

"For letting Alys drive a wedge between us," Y.N. explained, her voice trembling slightly. "What you did was stupid, yes. You should have just apologized and sent her on her way. But you didn’t. And it allowed her to come between us."

Aemond’s heart clenched. "I’m sorry. I should’ve seen through her manipulation. I never meant to hurt you."

Y.N. sighed, her eyes meeting his, filled with conflicted emotions. "I know," she whispered.

The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft gurgles of Jack in Aemond's arms as they stood together, caught between love and uncertainty.

Aemond stood there, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. His gaze was locked on Y.N., his heart pounding with a desperate question.

“Is there any hope for us?” His voice was almost a whisper, thick with emotion.

Y.N. looked down, her fingers twisting together as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," she said softly, her voice tinged with the pain of their shared past.

“Please,” Aemond implored, stepping closer, his voice raw and vulnerable. “Just give me a chance to prove how much I love you.”

Y.N. sighed, meeting his eye. “And how are you going to do that, Aemond?”

Without hesitation, Aemond pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text. “I’m going to show you,” he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door. Aemond opened it, revealing Aegon, who immediately reached for Jack with a grin.

“Look at my little buddy!” Aegon cooed as he scooped Jack into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much” as Jack gurgled happily, clearly thrilled to see his uncle.

Aegon then handed Aemond a carrier bag.

Aemond turned to Y.N. and, with a gentle smile, held the bag out to her. “Go get changed.”

Y.N. blinked, a mix of curiosity and reluctance in her expression. She glanced between Aemond and Aegon before taking the bag and disappearing into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she re-emerged, wearing a stunning blue chiffon lace midi dress. The delicate fabric flowed around her, and the soft lace highlighted her elegance.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe. A faint blush spread across Y.N.'s cheeks as she looked away shyly.

Aegon, ever the distraction, chimed in with a playful grin. “Well, I’m here to babysit Jack, so you two better get going and have a great time.” He paused, glancing around the apartment. “Now, where are the takeout menus?”

Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t actually have any, but you could always google some.”

Aegon stared at her in mock disbelief. “What kind of person doesn’t have takeout menus? Honestly.”

Aemond smirked. “One who doesn’t live off takeaways, like you.”

Aegon scoffed, shaking his head. “Pot, kettle, brother. That’s all you’ve been eating lately.”

Aemond winced slightly, catching Y.N.’s curious glance. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly admitting, “I didn’t feel like cooking.”

Aegon let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Didn’t feel like showering either. Honestly, he was rank”

Y.N. chuckled softly, shaking her head at the brothers’ banter. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft and maternal. “Food for Jack is in the fridge, and you just need to-”

“—heat it up,” Aegon interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Aemond leaned over to bid Jack farewell, pressing a gentle kiss to his son’s head. Then, he turned to Y.N., extending his hand to her. “Shall we?”

Y.N. hesitated for a split second before placing her hand in his.

The moment their fingers intertwined, Aemond felt his heart skip a beat. It was a simple touch, but it was enough to fill him with hope.

As they walked out the door, Aegon called after them, already settling into the sofa with Jack in his arms. “You better text me if this goes well! I’ve got a bet going with Daeron”

Aemond ignored him, focused entirely on Y.N., as they stepped into the hallway. His heart raced with anticipation.

Whatever happened tonight, he was determined to show her just how much she meant to him.

Aemond led Y.N. through the grand gardens of Targaryen Manor, the evening air cool and soft against their skin.

Y.N. glanced around, admiring the place, but a flicker of curiosity crossed her face as she asked, "Why have you brought me here?"

Aemond smiled gently, his grip tightening on her hand as they continued walking. “You’ll see,” he murmured.

"Is Otto going to be here?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Aemond shook his head. “No. He’s away visiting Gwayne, and my mother’s having dinner with Helaena tonight.”

“So, it’s just us?” Y.N. asked softly.

“Just us,” he confirmed, but instead of leading her into the manor, he took a turn and guided her toward the sprawling gardens.

Y.N.’s breath hitched as they stepped into a secluded area. Laid out before her was an elegantly prepared picnic, illuminated by soft lanterns hanging from the trees, casting a warm glow over the scene.

A blanket was spread neatly on the grass, adorned with a variety of delicacies, surrounded by delicate flowers in bloom.

“Aemond,” Y.N. gasped, taking in the sight, a smile tugging at her lips. “You did this?”

“I had a little help,” Aemond admitted, his eye glinting with affection.

“Helaena?” Y.N. guessed, knowing his sister's touch was all over this. Aemond nodded, smiling.

As they stood there for a moment, Aemond moved behind her, gently turning her to face the manor.

He rested his hands lightly on her waist, his lips close to her ear. “Second floor,” he whispered, pointing toward the house. “Third from the left.”

Y.N. squinted, trying to figure out the significance. “It’s-a window?” she asked, confused.

Aemond chuckled softly. “Yes. That’s where I was standing the first time I saw you.”

Y.N. gasped, her head snapping toward him. “Really?”

He nodded, his voice low and reminiscent. “I was lying on my bed, and I heard you laughing. So, I got up, went to the window, and watched you. You were with Helaena, completely mesmerized when that butterfly landed on your hand. She wanted to keep it, but you-” he paused, a small smile playing on his lips, “-you let it fly free.”

Y.N. smiled at the memory. She had always loved butterflies, and the way Helaena cherished each one.

Aemond then led her toward a nearby hedge, stopping once they reached it. “And it was here,” he said, tracing his hand over the leaves, “-that you first saw my scar.”

“The wind blew your hood off,” Y.N. remembered, her voice gentle.

Aemond’s eye locked on hers, his voice soft. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

Y.N. nodded, her throat tightening as she whispered, “I told you not to hide. That your scar showed that you were brave.”

Aemond swallowed hard, the emotion in his chest swelling as he guided her back to the picnic blanket.

They both sat down, and after a moment of silence, Aemond opened the basket and pulled out an old, worn notebook.

“This-” he said, handing it to her, “-is where I wrote down all the things I wanted to say but couldn’t.”

Y.N. hesitated before gently taking the notebook from him. As she opened it, the sight of Aemond’s messy scrawl made her heart flutter.

She began reading through the childhood musings, and each entry hit her like a wave of nostalgia.

The early entries were sweet, filled with the innocent thoughts of a boy. Aemond had written about how pretty he thought she was, how special it made him feel when she called him brave.

Then she read about how much he liked her but was too afraid to tell her, fearing rejection.

As she turned the pages, she came across entries about their childhood, how she would read to him during sleepovers to help with his headaches.

Each word tugged at her heartstrings.

Then, the tone changed as they got older. Aemond’s words became more conflicted, expressing frustration.

He wrote about how he picked on her, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to get close to her.

There was a passage about how much he hated when she smiled at Aegon or laughed at his jokes.

And then there was the entry about the night Aegon kissed her during a game of spin the bottle.

Y.N. paused, looking up at Aemond. “I totally forgot about that,” she said, her tone light and a little embarrassed.

Aemond smiled slightly, encouraging her to continue. “Keep reading.”

The later entries were more sporadic, reflecting their time apart as they grew older. Aemond lamented about feeling like a coward for not telling her how he truly felt.

He wrote about the attention he received from other girls, but how none of it mattered because none of them were her. And then came the entry that talked about her leaving for art college.

His pain was palpable as he wrote about not knowing when—or if—he would ever see her again.

Finally, she reached the last entry. It was short, simple, and yet devastatingly sincere: No matter what happens, my heart will always belong to her.

Y.N. closed the notebook, her hands trembling slightly as she handed it back to him. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly began to fall, the weight of his feelings over the years crashing over her.

Aemond took the notebook from her but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The rawness of the moment, the vulnerability he had just laid bare before her, spoke volumes.

After enjoying the spread of food laid out for their picnic, Aemond and Y.N. packed up, the soft glow of lanterns fading behind them as they walked hand-in-hand back to the car.

The air between them was filled with a sense of calm and a quiet closeness that neither wanted to break.

As they got in the car, Y.N. smiled. "Where are we off to now?" she asked playfully, watching him from the passenger seat.

Aemond gave her a knowing smile but said nothing, only shaking his head as he started the engine. The hum of the car and the soft tunes from the radio filled the silence as they drove off into the night.

It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a familiar building—The Dragon’s Den, the very place where their story had taken a significant turn all those months ago.

Y.N. furrowed her brows, glancing at Aemond. “I think it’s closed,” she said, a slight chuckle in her voice.

Aemond smirked and pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them with a grin. “Not for us,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to step inside. The space was eerily quiet, devoid of the usual bustling crowd and vibrant atmosphere that she remembered from that fateful night.

After locking the door behind them, Aemond led her towards the dance floor.

“How did you get the keys?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Aemond gave her a sly look. “I know the owner,” he said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He left her standing in the middle of the dance floor for a moment as he made his way toward the sound system. Y.N. watched him, her heart beating a little faster with each passing second.

Then, the melody of the song they had danced to on that unforgettable night filled the club, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

Y.N. giggled softly as Aemond returned, removing his jacket and tossing it to the side. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

She slipped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his as they began to sway to the music, just like they had that first night.

As they moved together, Aemond's eye never left hers.

“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the music. “About how much our lives have changed since?”

Y.N. nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “All the time,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t come out that night. Helaena had to convince me.”

Aemond’s hand tightened slightly around her waist, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m glad she did,” he murmured, pulling her just a little closer.

They continued to dance, their bodies swaying in time with the rhythm, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Aemond’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently brushing across her cheek as he leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, the raw emotion behind his words evident in his voice.

Y.N. smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you too,” she whispered back before closing the small distance between them, their lips meeting in a passionate, lingering kiss.

As the music played on, they melted into each other, their bodies still moving in sync with the slow, sweet melody. Everything else seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet, intimate moment.

Aemond took a small step back from Y.N., his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathered his thoughts. His eye, filled with raw emotion, searched hers, and he exhaled deeply.

"I know that I’m a complete idiot," he began, his voice thick with regret. "And I’m so sorry for what happened. Please believe me when I say I will never hurt you again."

Y.N. looked at him, her heart pounding, as she listened closely. Aemond continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion, "You and Jack mean everything to me. I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you both know that—every single day."

Without breaking eye contact, Aemond gently took her hand in his. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box.

The movement was careful, nervous, but determined. Y.N.’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.

Aemond, never taking his eye off her, slowly descended onto one knee, his heart racing in sync with hers.

"Y.N.," he said softly, opening the box to reveal a beautiful, glimmering ring nestled inside. "Will you marry me?"

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the soft music still playing in the background.

Then, Y.N.'s lips parted into a radiant smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."

A wide, joyous grin broke out across Aemond’s face. With trembling hands, he slid the ring onto her finger, and once it was in place, he stood up, pulling her into his arms.

In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in circles as they both laughed, the sound of their joy echoing through the empty club.

When he finally lowered her back to the ground, they were both breathless, their laughter fading into quiet, intimate smiles. Aemond cupped her face, brushing his lips gently against hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Mrs. Targaryen" he whispered softly against her lips, his forehead resting against hers.

Y.N. giggled, her heart bursting with happiness, and she kissed him again, her fingers gently running through his hair.

In that moment, with Aemond’s arms wrapped tightly around her and their love stronger than ever, they had found their way back to each other.

And this time, it was forever.

Aemond and Y.N. arrived back at his penthouse, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement after their evening together.

As they stepped inside, Aemond closed the door behind them, and his eye flicked to Y.N., a smile playing on his lips.

“Well,” Aemond began with a teasing tone, glancing around the familiar surroundings, “since you no longer live at your old apartment, we can’t replicate that night exactly. But this will do.”

His smile grew wider as he shrugged off his coat and moved to the drinks cabinet.

Y.N. chuckled, slipping off her heels as she watched him. Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint, the night’s events still coursing through her, making her feel bold.

She leaned against the wall; arms crossed loosely as Aemond rummaged through the cabinet.

He turned around, bottle in hand, raising a brow. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, though his grin hinted that he already knew what her answer might be.

Y.N. smirked and echoed the words that he’d said to her that fateful night, her voice soft but filled with playful intent.

“We both know I didn’t come here for a drink.”

Aemond’s eye darkened with the same intensity she remembered from that night. He set the bottle down without hesitation, crossing the room to her in long, purposeful strides.

His hands reached for her, fingers gently gripping her waist as he pulled her against him.

“Is that so?” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, his face mere inches from hers.

Wasting no time, Aemond pressed his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Y.N. melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as their kiss deepened, fiery and intense.

In that instant, everything else faded away. The penthouse, the memories, the past—they all vanished, leaving only the present moment.

Aemond kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Then Y.N slipped her fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.

She stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek.

The sapphire glinting in the low light.

“You are still so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.

Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.

“Please-“ moaned Y.N

"I’ve waited too long for this, Y.N."

She smiled up at him, her heart racing. "Then don’t make me wait any longer."

Aemond growled as he took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom, he all but kicked the door open.

He turned to face her, and he put his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.

Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippling under her fingertips.

She finished unbuttoning the shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.

Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he still wore.

Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.

Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.

His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet penthouse, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, which excited him.

Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest.

Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened r nipples.

Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth.

Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.

He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her.

Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.

Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.

Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.

Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.

Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them to the floor.

Aemond reached forward and pulled her onto the bed.

He manoeuvred her onto her back and covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.

“Still such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my darling. Let me hear you”. 

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Y.N arched  her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.

Aemond moved his fingers slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.

Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.

“I want you to ride me-wife” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Y.N moaned as she rolled her hips against Aemonds, his cock moving in and out of her.

Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N

"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.

Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.

His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.

“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.

“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.

“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.

“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around his bedroom.

“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.

“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.

Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.

With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed inside her.

He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.

She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.

Afterward, Y.N. and Aemond lay together, their bodies tangled in the soft sheets, a warm silence settling over them.

Aemond's hand traced lazy patterns on her skin as he leaned back, his silvery hair spilling over the pillow. He turned his head toward her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re still taking the pill, right?” he asked casually, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Y.N. giggled softly, her fingers brushing over his chest. “Yes, I am.” She noticed the subtle sigh of relief that left his lips, and her grin grew wider.

“As much as I want more children with you,” Aemond murmured, his voice deep and warm, “I’d like us to be married before the next one.” He smiled, his hand resting on her stomach as if imagining the future.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You want more children?”

Aemond nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Yes. You’re a fantastic mother, Y.N. I can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my child again-just not yet.”

Y.N. chuckled, shaking her head gently. “I think I can agree with that.”

Aemond leaned over, reaching for his trousers where they were discarded on the floor.

He fished out his phone, quickly dialling a number. Y.N. listened in curiosity as the phone rang, and moments later, Aegon’s voice was loud enough for her to hear.

“Bring Jack to the penthouse-” said Aemond.

“So, did you ask her?” Aegon asked eagerly.

Aemond grinned. “I did. And she said yes.”

There was a loud cheer on the other end of the line, followed by Aegon’s voice exclaiming, “Ha! Daeron owes me money! Tight git best pay up.”

Aemond chuckled as he ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement.

“Do I even want to know what that was about?”

“Just my brothers being idiots,” Aemond replied with a grin, though his eye twinkled with amusement.

Y.N. laughed softly, teasing him. “Must be in the genes.”

Aemond feigned offense, rolling on top of her with a playful growl.

“Careful now.” He kissed her deeply, his lips warm against hers, his hand sliding up her side. He pulled back slightly, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I wonder if we can manage another round before Aegon gets here with Jack”

Y.N. laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m fairly certain I can manage it, but the question is-can you?”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against hers as he replied. “I’ll show you exactly what I can manage.”

TBC

[blackknight-kai]

Let me start saying I love your blog, reblogs and headcanons, truly, all of the above🩷🩷

If you’re comfortable with the question, do you have any for the Destined One with a female virgin reader?

So I wanna say thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 I haven’t quite shared my own head canons much but I don’t have any issue sharing them 🫶 others do a much better job of it so I’ve left it to them. But! Your ask comes at a wonderful time as I needed a break from writing a fic 💀 (kill me im up to 20k)

Let’s get after it! Destined One & a female virgin head canons? I’ll give it a shot! There will be a nsfw section below sorry if that’s not your thing. I wasn’t super explicit on body parts etc but let me know if you guys want a Sun Wukong one? I’d try.

If you’re NOT in a relationship yet and he finds out? (Be it you told him outright or it comes out in passing conversation)

He’d would remain expressionless and quiet as usual. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it and remain respectful

But if you look closely you can see him swallowing thickly at the new information

Will NOT treat you differently

He has a LOT of feelings for you and knowing you haven’t shared yourself with someone else, while not a huge deal he’s never really cared one way or another, it’s something he finds himself thinking about often.

It makes him a little hot under the collar sometimes when he looks at you and remembers what you’d said.

NSFW - on the very rare occasions that he takes some time to himself or you’re not around, in the quiet he puts his goal to the side for just a moment and allows himself to think about his wishes and whims. Specially how he’d touch you and make it good for you because you deserve to be treated like you’re special and HE wants to be the one to do it.

If you’re in a relationship and it either came up naturally or during a more…heated moment.

Would absolutely freeze. Like body full on screenshot kinda freeze - only his tail would flick and twitch as he processes

Because honestly it hadn’t occurred to him before but it is NOW. He’s thought of you and making love with you but first or not first hadn���t been a topic of thought

He’d probably internally get flustered and his heart would race ridiculously but on the outside his expression would appear stoic or mildly surprised

Wouldn’t try to pressure you or make a big deal out of it, as though it doesn’t matter one way or another besides making extra sure you’re comfortable

His tail would eventually give him away though as it would be swishing behind him happy and interested as the information settles in his brain

Dude would be first and foremost HONORED If you shared that news with him and were giving him your first

Probably a first for him too ngl. I see him as someone who was so focused on his path that warming another’s bed wasn’t something he was willing to spare time on.

If it’s not a first for him too then it’s not something he’s done often and isn’t an expert

Would definitely thank you for trusting him with sweet reassuring kisses (if they are a little heated don’t blame him too much)

He is respectful! As I said no pressure. No rush. But would the information please him? Yes.

Definitely adds fire to his belly because HE will be your first

Sends a note of possession through him not because he’d “own” you but because regardless of being a first or not you’d be his and he yours.

NSFW:

Regardless of if you’re shy or ready to get the show on the road he’d be so gentle and would be careful, really careful.

Probably a bit unsure and might move a little too fast accidentally in his own lust but would immediately sooth you as soon as he realizes

Looks to your expressions and sounds to make sure you’re feeling good and safe

He wants to treat you WELL views it as HIS duty to make sure you’re happy

It’s a lot of pressure but he’d do his best and set his mind to it being nothing but perfect for you

I imagine at first his hands would be so feather light letting you get used to him and his touch as he undresses you piece by piece- he’d watch his claws unless he finds out you enjoy them grazing across your skin

He’d brush his lips across every piece of new skin revealed to his eyes unable to help himself

Finds out he really loves your chest, both feeling you & tasting you. as well as napping on you later

But over time as the act went on he’d be more confident, still tender but less unsure

He’d be enamored every time he got you to sigh or make a pleased sound

It’s his goal to hears those often

When he discovers how turned on he’s made you it would send waves of pride crashing over him, he had done THAT

Overall though he’d take his time

He probably won’t speak much if at all, but he’d make sure you’re ready every step of the way. If he does speak it’s not more than a few words here or there, low and only for you to hear as he nips your ear

Multiple check ins

He’s a giver, and while he isn’t practiced whatsoever he’d use his mouth and fingers to bring you pleasure, finding out exactly how you like it by listening to the way you moan or the way your body shivers and trembles with specific movements

He 100% will become VERY VERY good with his hands and mouth

His tail is sneaky, he’d use it as a way to hold on to your leg (holding you open while one of his hands is occupied) or would brush the the furry appendage across your skin just to see goosebumps rise in its wake

When you’re finally connected, after time spent letting you get used to him (and him you because let’s be real he’d be overwhelmed by the feel of tightly wrapped around him too) he’d roll his hips gently

He would make sounds, sighs and groans in your ear.

He’d love it if you cling on to him and tell him he’s doing something good

Full on shudders if you scratch his back or dig your nails into him - he loves it and he might accidentally thrust too hard when you do it

Wants to hear you 👏👏

Would keep control for as long as he could but would listen to your requests almost instantly if you asked him to move faster

Would love it if you moved his hand exactly where you wanted him to touch you

Would suck marks on your skin - thighs and neck, wherever he absentmindedly ran his lips. Would be shy about it later but would touch them possessively or when you’re dressed his eyes would stray to where his marks are on your skin.

Afterwards he’d silently but tenderly wipe you down and then pull you into his arms

Would nuzzle his face against you and breathe your scent as you both relax and come down from your high

Would massage any soreness you have that he could and feel pride at wearing you out, although his face wouldn’t show it

His tail would be like a vice around your thigh all night and trying to get out of his hold in the morning is a chore

He’d 100% take care of you especially for a first time is basically what I’m saying. After, he may be a bit rougher with his movements or may be impatient at times especially after a tough fight and adrenaline is still kicking but will always treat you tenderly as you guys build confidence together.

[b4ddprincess]

let's see this from a diff perspective rq

(ignore these random pics i found on my phone guys, they turned out to be aesthetically pleasing tgt 😍🙏🏽✨️)

referencing to this post, one of the notes i wrote on one of my side blogs (privately) was:

be aware of your thoughts, not your body. you will manifest a shift in your state of consciousness to become pure consciousness.

if i want to put this into a perspective for others to understand pure consciousness without making it sound overcomplicated, i would use examples like the loass/law of being, and sleeping.

so a lot of us are familiar with the ✨️law of assumption✨️

the law of assumption requires us to be in our imagination. to decide that we are no longer desiring, but rather we have our desires (in imagination). the 3d will reflect our imagination when we naturally persist in this assumption. the law of assumption also requires us to know you shouldn't pay any mind to the 3d regardless of what you see, hear, taste, touch, or smell.

and all of us, if not, most of us, or at least some of us are familiar with ✨️sleeping✨️

when we are sleeping, our state of consciousness had shifted to a sleep state where the sleep cycle restarts.

before we induce sleep, most of us get comfortable, relax, close our eyes, swat mosquitoes away from our ears, get comfortable again, and we don't hyperfocus on whatever's going on in the physical world.

doing this, we embody the sleep state, to manifest a shift in our state of consciousness to induce sleep state (law of being): you closed your eyes, and you moved your awareness away from the physical world therefore manifesting a shift in your state of consciousness to induce sleep.

to apply this to pure consciousness, you must embody pure consciousness to manifest a shift in your state of consciousness to induce pure consciousness.

you know that you shouldn't be aware of the physical world (your body, what you're smelling, hearing, tasting, nor seeing). your awareness should only be on your imagination, whether you're affirming, daydreaming, having internal dialogues or letting your thoughts wander.

when you are pure consciousness, you're conscious and you're only aware of your imagination cuz there is no awareness of the physical world in this state. if you're focused on the time that has passed and on your body, then you won't manifest a shift in your state of consciousness to be pure consciousness, cuz you're not embodying the state.

there's no need for effort 🤦🏽‍♀️

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I'm very normal about Idia, guys. Being his friend would be great, I just know. Yet he is an interesting character to me so at the same time he'd want you to spend all the time by his side, he also idolizes a version of you, smth smth I love him, enjoy this <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, control and manipulation tendencies, guilt tripping, gn!reader

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia becomes intensely possessive when he first make friends with you, something he’s not used to. His loyalty runs deep and he expects the same in return, often feeling jealous and anxious if you spends time with "the normies", as he likes to call them. He tries to monopolize your attention by filling your days with online games, late-night chats and gossip sessions and anime marathons, making it difficult for you to spend time with anyone else. He even try your blogs if it is something he can do inside his or your room.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Sometimes he beg you to spend the day in his room, studying online as he does, when he is dealing with a particularly bad day - which are slowly turning into a daily thing.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While Idia doesn’t confront people directly, he’s skilled at subtly manipulating you. If you mention hanging out with someone else, he’ll sulk or act overly dramatic, making you feel guilty for not spending time with him. He wants youto believe you’re the only one, besides Ortho and his family, who truly understands him, ensuring that you stay close. His tech expertise also gives him an advantage over you as he keeps tabs on your online activity, always aware of who you’re talking to or what you’re doing when you are away from him. And if you tell about how suffocating is to be with someone like him or something like that, Idia will make little changes in himself so you won't be bothered by how he acts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ To further isolate you, Idia draws you deeper into his world, introducing rare games and niche interests that only he can share with you. If you try to make plans outside your usual routine, he’ll always have something special, a one time offer that you simply can't resist. Deep down, his tendencies come from a deep fear of rejection. He’s terrified of being abandoned and he believes the only way to secure your friendship is to make you depend on him as much as he depends on you. He wants to be your hero, strong, fierce, yet he turns into your villain, your tormentor.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As the friendship deepens, Idia’s clinginess becomes more apparent, though he tries to hide it behind his usual awkwardness. He starts to get anxious whenever you doesn’t respond immediately to messages, bombarding you with worried texts or even calling, something he normally hates doing. When you finally reply, he plays it off but the relief he feels is palpable. He needs that constant reassurance that you’re still there, still close to him, that you still like him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia’s jealousy, though subtle, can become intense. If he notices you are growing closer to someone else, he starts planting doubts in your mind, making snide comments or pointing out flaws in the new person’s behavior. His aim is always to make sure you realizes that no one will ever be as loyal or understanding as he is. He never wants to be obvious about it but his bitterness leaks out in small doses, enough to make his friend second-guess their other relationships.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When things don’t go as planned, Idia retreats into self-pity, making you feel responsible for his mood. He might withdraw entirely, going quiet for days at a time, only to return with cryptic messages about feeling “left behind” or how much he hates being alone. This emotional tug-of-war keeps you constantly on edge, never wanting to hurt him or push him away, which only feeds into Idia’s control over you. Wether you realize what he does or not, Idia will always find a way to have control over you, no matter what.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Despite his fear of being too obvious, there are times when Idia’s obsession shows more openly. He might create custom in-game avatars of you, carefully crafting you to reflect his idealized version of a romantic relationship. He’ll obsessively collect items or trinkets that remind him of you, even going so far as to create private spaces in games or online where it’s just the two of them, away from anyone else or have an AI of your voice saying sweet little nothings to him, or singing. This, though, he'll never let you know. He doesn't want for you to think he is a weirdo, he just really love you, his bestie.

[lovecried]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚ ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES.

you've made your way up the rankings and retired pro-hero, dynamite aka bakugo katsuki, couldn't be more proud.

( fic demographics. ) boku no hero academia, bakugo katsuki, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 7370 words.

╰┈➤ retired pro-hero!bakugo katsuki, sidekick turned pro-hero!reader (she/they), age gap (bakugo in his early to mid fifties/reader in their early thirties), alcoholic consumption, standing sixty-nine, playful banter, some bratty behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex (creampie), multiple orgasm, mating press, cum swallowing, slight slapping, dirty talk, etc.

( author's note. ) i realized that im a basic bitch and usually stick to the same kinks and positions in my smut and decided to change it up slightly. ended up having so much fun that im now currently in a bakugo rut and want him to do some very nasty shit to me.

Bakugo doesn’t quite remember when he started feeling so old. When did his hearing become so sensitive? Was it from the multiple times he had was an inch away from his own end— a ringing in his ear that was damn-near deafening? Or is it simply because he’s halfway to his sixties? When had his appetite become so bland? How come he can’t drink as much as he wants now that he’s retired from being a pro-hero? 

He thought the moment he finally received an actual break, things would get better, but he’s wishing to go back. Is there a type of quirk that’ll de-age him? It doesn’t have to last forever, just long enough where he can bask and reminisce in the feeling of being young and in his prime. Now he’s in his mid-fifties and he can’t move as freely as he wants to anymore. He was once a high-ranking hero working his ass off to be at the top and giving himself little time to enjoy it. Not that he could, danger was always a millisecond away. He got everything he ever wanted. He should be proud of it, and he is. He truly is, but God damn, sometimes does he have regrets. 

He’s still nursing this glass of whiskey that the bartender served him for ten minutes, sitting at the bar of a pristine place only open to pro-heros and sidekicks, active or retired. It’s a Thursday evening, a quiet night unlike its usual business. Bakugo’s always here on a Thursday, so much so that the moment he walks in, the bartender Akiri already has his drink waiting for him. Always cold and fresh, like it was served right in front of him. She has a weird quirk— everlasting ice— but it proves to be great in her line of business. 

The television is on and despite the music playing, he can hear the current news report. 

“This just in on Pro-Hero ranking, Spiderweb continues to climb the charts, their venomous webs seemingly seeping a new poison that makes every fall in love with her. Rumor has it that she’ll be the number one hero within the next month—”

Bakugo doesn’t hear your arrival, not hearing the jingle of the overhead bells the moment you walk in. He doesn’t even hear the moment you slide out the chair, its legs scraping against the tiled ground. You frown as his focus remains on the television, watching you when the real deal is right there. He really is getting rusty.

“You're losing your touch, Dynamite,” you slide on the stool, grabbing his drink right out of his hand the moment he falls out of his trance. “A villain could've walked right in and you would've been—” you snap your fingers. “—done for.”

He ignores your comment because he knows you're right. Can't argue that he still had the skills. He had some, but some wouldn't be enough. Instead he takes you, drinking you with his eyes. You're still in your hero suit that closely resembles everyday clothing to the regular eye, but Bakugo knows how you designed your hero fit, he helps you improve it after all. 

An ashy purple top that sucked you in, holding you in place. It had a dark gem-like pattern on it that people could mistake for rhinestones, but you were intricate with the design, using the same fluid you use to take down villains to help create the spider web pattern that runs down the top. Around your wrists, are smaller and more stylistic versions of his gauntlets, resembling bangles to help you store sweat. Similar to his quirk, you form the webs through your build up of yours with further additions. He remembered you explaining just exactly how your quirk works, but started to check out once it became too biological. 

Your black pants were baggy, helping with your own comfort as you had a fanny pack around your waist, holding them up. The boots you wore were another storage for your sweat, your clothes being a tool to absorb your bodily fluids, where you were able to experiment with yourself and further prove your usefulness. It definitely contrasted with your old sidekick uniform— a skimpy piece that you paid someone to have designed for you and you didn't have the heart to tell that you didn't like it. Considering that you're climbing the rankings now, he figures you've finally grown that backbone you used to lack when he first got you. 

“Well, if it isn't Spiderweb,” he turns in his seat to face you. It's apparent that he still works out, arms still bulging out, though he's gaining some chub in some places. But that scar on his face and his facial expression doesn't have you fooled, he's still rough around the edges. “I still prefer Deadly Spider, by the way.”

You roll your eyes with the tilt of your head as you scoff out sarcastically, “Of course, you do, Explosion Murder God— whatever it is.”

“Haha,” he feigns laughter, subconsciously scooting closer to you. “What're you doing here? Shouldn't you still be on patrol?”

“I'm not rumored to become number one for nothing,” you wink. I finished up early. Bakugo snorts. Finishing up early doesn't exist, and you know that. Hearing his snort, you stop the joking and become a little more serious. You technically weren't lying when you said you finished up early. “I was on a case for a while. I should still be out there, but I managed to crack shit down and I decided I needed to reward myself after a long day.”

He nods, bringing his glass to his lips finally. “You've gotten good,” he gestures to the screen.

“I had a good mentor,” you smile. He chuckles at that, “Damn right, ya did.”

You can't help but giggle as you slump in the chair. You can see him looking at you from the corner of his eyes, those vermillion eyes that used to always be set in a scowl now seem to be brighter. He lets out a breath as he downs the whiskey in one go. “‘m proud of ya, (Y/N). You're not disappointing me after all.”

“Have I ever?” You expect the answer to be yes. That there must've been times where you've disappointed him, especially in your early days of being a sidekick. A few UA graduates that had your tail between your legs and didn't know how you survived the lot of it. You made stupid mistakes and were chastised for it. Surely those were the moments where he was obviously disappointed in you, right? 

There's a long pause before he's shaking his head, beckoning the bartender over and asking for two more glasses. The bartender is quick, placing one in front of you and Bakugo. You're not a drinker, but you take a few sips from it. “Nah. Always knew I passed the torch to the right person.”

You snort, calling his blasphemy. “You're lying to me to make me feel good. What about that time I dropped that serum?”

“It was your first big case with me as a fresh graduate,” he remembered that day vividly. It was a month in of you being his sidekick. You were used to being by his side during patrols and smaller cases. He didn't expect to have you thrown in something like that so soon. He wanted to leave you behind, but others thought otherwise and in a rare moment, he didn't follow his intuition. “You were bound to fuck up after being thrown in with the wolves.”

Your eyes widen at his nonchalance, but they become serious in an effort to prove him wrong. Why would you want to? Bakugo can't understand as you start relaying moments where you messed up, whether it was a small accident or a huge fuckup. Stubborn as an ass, Bakugo still upholds his position. “Quit it, won'tcha? If I thought y’er a disappointment, you'd’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“Well,” you start to tear up. “That's refreshing to hear after all.”

“Now, don't make me change my mind!” He knows you all too well, seeing how the corner of your eyes start to water. “Here I thought ya finally grew a backbone, but y’still cry like a baby.”

“What?” You exclaim, not denying his claims. “I've never cried in front of you. How'd you even know?”

“Y’always were on the verge of tears, honey,” he smirks. “It wasn't hard to miss.”

The way honey fell from his lips with ease. His raspy voice sent something straight through you that it was hard to keep your composure. You're starting to remember your younger years where you'd ogle him, all while trying to not cry from him yelling at you. Despite how rough he seemed back then, you had developed a crush that you thought you grew out of. But, here you are, falling back into old ways. 

If Bakugo notices a shift, he doesn't mention it. Instead, swiveling back around to stare at God knows what. You clear your throat, taking a huge gulp of the whiskey. Your throat burns as you quickly question why Bakugo seems to like it so much. “I'm getting better though. At hiding my tears, and I do have a backbone, by the way. Just took me a while to find it, but it's all intact.”

“Good to know,” Bakugo says, dismissively, the atmosphere changing. You try to say something else, but you can't find anything to talk about anymore, despite your mind running with lots of stuff. You remembered a month into Bakugo's retirement that he started coming to Sakura's Blossom— the bar you're in now. A popular place for heroes to relax, somewhere Bakugo used to always avoid as a hero, becoming a favorite for him. When he pushed you to become a hero, your early days were close in its vicinity. You'd always see him walk in, but he's never seen you. It became a regular for him to come in on Thursdays, making it easy for you to find him.

You've always wanted to run after him, tell him how much you're grateful for his endorsement and that you'll make him proud. Because in the midst of it all, you had forgotten to and it was slowly eating at you. You had been raised to always give gratitude and you couldn't even thank the man that put you where you are today. But now, your throat is dry and you still can't. 

You can. You. Can. You can—

Bakugo pushes out against the chair, standing up as he pays for the bill— for both yours and his drinks. He nods towards the bartender before looking down at a speechless you. “Good night, Spiderweb.”

You should've said it then, but you don't. “Good night, Dynamite.”

—

You managed to change your schedule, so that you have Thursday nights free, managing to find another hero willing to switch with you. You start making regular appearances when Bakugo's there, and when he asks, you always lie. Though, you know that he knows you're lying. However, he never says your word. Simply just enjoying your company. 

You missed him, missed having him around. And he realizes that he's missed you. When he first became a pro-hero and as he grew comfortable in this dangerous career, he flew solo. Did everything on his own and didn't want a shadow that wasn't his own following him around. However, as he grew in age and realized that a second hand wouldn't hurt, he hired you to help make things easier for him. 

At first, you were a mere pain in the ass. Like you had said, you had messed up countless times and God, was he close to firing you at plenty of points in time. But, something was hindering him from doing so. He just couldn't do it. So, he kept you and trained you to be who you needed to be— helped shape yourself into someone he was proud of, as well as yourself. Sometimes when you'd seek his advice, your voice would get soft and he’d be reminded of that young woman you once were, but you've grown so much. You still might not believe him, but damn is he proud of you.

“Breaking News! Spiderweb has found themself in a web of her own. An elaborate plan on her part turned against her as a villain gives her a taste of her own medicine. Luckily, other pro-heros within her vicinity were able to help rescue them, but she was gravely injured and was brought to the hospital. Reporters have yet to hear about their condition—

Bakugo doesn't think twice before he's springing from his seat, dropping some cash and heading in your direction. He should've known from the moment that you were ten minutes late than when you usually drop in to chat that something was up. “Fuck,” he curses, climbing into his vehicle and speeding in your direction. If he's got it right, he knows exactly where you've been taken. 

You've been in and out of consciousness the moment an IV has been shoved in your veins from the joint of your arms and biceps. You were in an immense amount of pain, nearly every part of your body aching. When you squint your eyes open, you're greeted with white and you know you're in the hospital. It should be a relief, you're alive, but you feel the tears building up. You've failed. And you have before, but this time it's different. 

In the midst of finding your groove and truly feeling like yourself, you've been forced flat on your back and lost the upper hand, having to depend on others to rescue you instead of doing the rescuing. You were careless, wreckless, a disappoint—

“Where is she?” You recognize that voice. That gruff and raspy voice. It doesn't help soothe the pain, only making it worse as you begin to sob. The machine you're hooked up to starts beeping erratically. 

“Sir, we need you to calm down. She's just starting to become stable. She's in good hands—”

“Then why won't you let me see her?” Bakugo slams his fist into the desk. “She's not in surgery, is she?”

“No, but…” It goes silent from there, hearing a slew of voices and footsteps rushing towards you before Bakugo follows. “That's her! Let me see—”

“Sir, if you do not calm down, we won't have a choice in having you removed!”

You don't remember much from that point on, knowing that Bakugo didn't go down without a fight and probably finding some sort of loophole into seeing you again. When you open your eyes once more, you're more stable and not in and out of sleep. You're still in pain, but feeling slightly better. 

“Yer up,” a deep voice booms, filled with exhaustion as a huge yawn leaves Bakugo's mouth. “‘Bout damn time.”

You should be happy that he stayed to make sure you're in a stable condition and that he cares for you, but you aren't. Only reminded of your mistake. “You—you should go.”

You end up croaking and stammering on your words, but he makes out what you say and scoffs. “What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout? Didn't come rushin’ here and fight off a guard just to be told to leave.” 

“Dynamite—”

“Bakugo—”

“Dynamite,” you pause, expecting him to rebuttal, but he doesn't. “Please, I don't have the strength. And, I don't want you seeing me like this.”

“Seeing you like how?”

“Vulnerable.”

He snorts, crossing his arms as he stands over you by the bed. His big arms bulge as he doesn't take you seriously for a second. “Don't give me that shit. I'm stayin’.”

You don't even know why you tried arguing with a stubborn ass like him. You should've known it was pointless. He always seems to get his way, so instead. You do what you do best. Cry. 

And it's worse than he can ever imagine. You're in full-blown tears, sobbing heavily that your eyes will be bloodshot red by the end of it. He doesn't know what to do or what to say to get you to stop, leaving him speechless as he can do nothing but stand there. Why don't you want him there so bad?

“I… I failed you,” you finally sob out, clenching your fists as they crack. Your nails dig into your skin as you force your body to turn away from him.

“What are you talking about?” Bakugo asks, incredulous. “Failed me, how?”

“I got too ahead of myself,” you further explain. “Thought I could take that villain on my own, only to get a taste of my own medicine.”

Is this what this is about? Why you were in such a haste to kick him out of your hospital room? 

His uncontrollable laughter catches you off guard, having you spinning your head to look at him so hard that it hurts. “W-why are you laughing? It's not funny!” 

“Oh, honey.” There he goes, calling you honey in your horrible predicament. “But it is!”

His laughter dies down not too shortly after, a hand instinctively reaching to caress you, pushing away your braids that nurses lazily put in a ponytail. “It was bound to happen. You climb up the ranks, get a little cocky and then God strikes ya down. Happens to us all.”

“You make my near-death experience sound like it's normal,” you mumble.

“It is,” he points out. “For people like us. It's what we signed up for— it's what you signed up. Be grateful you're alive. From what I'm hearing, you'll make a great recovery. If Recovery Girl was working here, you'd have been out of here quicker than this.”

“I thought you were going to chastise me,” you admit. “It's what I wanted— what I needed.”

“If ya wanted it so much, you wouldn't’ve tried kicking me out.”

“Mmm, maybe you're right,” you give up. “You should still, though.”

His eyes grow dark in a teasing fashion, looking down at you. “And give ya what you want so easily? Not a fat chance.”

—

As Bakugo had said you would, you make a speedy recovery, getting back on your toes in no time. You take his advice, taking it easy and to not make the mistakes he made earlier on in going solo. Your ranking has dropped a few, having to live with the next month or so with people ridiculing and noting how you got full of yourself. They were right, you did, and you'll learn to be better— to accept help and ask for it. Being a pro-hero isn't a one-man gig, after all. 

You still have your Thursday nights free to spend them with Bakugo. Your accident seems to bring the two of you incredibly closer, and to the few onlooking pros that saunter inside, it's too close. You scrunch up your nose in laughter. You slap at his chest in your fit of giggles as his arms instinctively wrap around your waist and pull you closer, your head falling to his chest. You're laughing so hard that it's hard to breathe and you're nearly choking. “Woah there, honey. ‘M not that funny.”

You stop laughing, expression turning serious in a millisecond that it's nearly concerning until your voice is barely above a whisper, “Stop calling me honey. I don't think you're aware of what it does to me.”

For a moment, Bakugo’s eyes widen at your openness before they share the same darkness that yours have been growing. “I wasn't, but now that I am, I think I'll just abuse that little info.”

— 

Maybe Bakugo’s alright with this period in his life after all. Being able to say that he's an experienced man, where despite his long days of pro-hero work, he's managed to keep his dick wet through it all. It means he knows how to please someone of your caliber. 

He's a big man, despite the pudge that's grown on him. He can't workout as much as he used to, but picking you up? You're light as a feather. 

The moment he got you through his front door, he couldn't wait any longer. He needed you in a way he's never felt with any other woman. The taste of your lips don't compare to the plenty of one night stands he's had. He's got you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as he pushes you against the door. The tent in his pants continues to form, rubbing against you as slick sticks to the crotch of your panties. 

“Fuck,” he curses deliriously, pulling away from the kiss with a hiss. His eyes are low and hazy, filled with wanton lust. “Bet ya taste so good. Been wanting to try ya for a while.”

“Oh really?” You giggle, eyes sparkling in interest. You buck your hips into him, feeling his cock against your core. He's pulling at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of this damned hero costume. “Since when?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs with a pant. With the top of your suit gone, you do him the favor of kicking off your pants. Leaving you nearly bare and for him ogle. His eyes are glued to your chest, getting rid of your bra next to play with your dark and pert nipples. Your breasts are perky, ready to be sucked on. He takes a nipple in his mouth before remembering what else he wanted to say. “Since ya started stalking me at the bar.”

“Wait,” despite the sexual situation you find yourself in, your eyes widen at the sheer fear that he knew that you had watched him. That he had known the small fact that you had memorized his scheduled visits to Sakura's Blossom. You push against his chest, pulling him away from your breasts. “You knew that I knew all this time?” 

“Feel like we're no longer on the same page here,” he furrowed his eyebrows to clarify, fingers trailing to pinch at your nipples. “But since ya started yer regular visits.”

“Oh,” your breath of relief turns into a whine when he twists rather harshly. 

“Y’were watching me from before?” His gaze becomes stern in a teasing manner, moreso like he's bemused by the fact. 

“Used to patrol right next to Sakura's,” you shamelessly admit, gnawing on your bottom lip as you start to grind against his cock. It has him remembering why you're here, what he wants to do to you. “A hot spot for pro-heros— a villain's bound to hit some day.”

“Oh, shut up already,” he finally huffs out. 

“You're the one asking the—” You squeal as Bakugo flips you upside down, feeling his nose press into your mound. He takes a deep inhale that you can feel. His hold on you gets tight, a visceral grip that will have your sides aching by the morning. “Oh, gosh! Dynamite!”

Your damn dedication to calling him his hero name pisses him off, especially in a position like this. “Don't call me Dynamite when I'm tryna eat yer pussy.” The slap to your ass echos the room, you swallowing a breath of air in your shock. “It's Bakugo or Katsuki from this point on, got it?”

He slaps your ass again at your silence. “Ya got it?”

“Fuck,” you finally mewl out. “Yes, Bakugo.”

His cock twitches, loving the way you say his last name. He smirks. “I'll make sure that I have it engraved in your head when I'm done with you.”

“Didn't you tell me to shut up alr— oh…” 

You feel his tongue against your covered mound, pressing into the fabric before the sound of sucking. He can taste you through it. He can taste your juices through the cotton of your panties with no shame at all. His eyes flutter shut as he feels your hands reach for his hips and dig your nails into him. They go through his shirt and into his skin as you can't help but roll your pelvis into him. 

You can feel the blood rush to your head, but fuck are you enjoying this. His desperation to taste you at his front door, not bothering to get you down on a bed. More juices pool from you as you gain more stability in this position, bucking your hips up to his mouth as you feel his teeth graze your skin, catching the hem of your panties and tugging it to the side. The cold conditioned air that breathes down on your core is brutal and in the darkness, Bakugo can see your pussy shine in its wetness. “Shit, I’ve gotcha all to myself, don't I? You're just mine for the taking.”

Your hands traverse to his bottoms, unzipping it as you nod. “‘m all yours, Bakugo.”

You pull down his pants as best as you can, palming his cock through his underwear and hearing a slew of curse words fall from his lips. “Yer gonna be the death of me.”

Finally do you reach in his pants, pulling out his cock. He's been losing a lot of things due to age lately, and he's grateful that an erection isn't on the list yet. Hard and prominent and all for you, he can only see so much, trying to get a good look at your face from the position, but it's hopeless, he can only feel how good you are. With one hand, he uses it to wrap around your waist tightly before using the other to rub two fingers between your folds, hissing when he feels your tongue against his tip. He spreads your slick down your pussy, making your lips all messy of yourself while he tries to remain steady as you take him in.

You can't help but moan, feeling yourself pulsate at the idea of sucking Bakugo off. How the sheer thought of it makes your pussy pool with heat. Legs wrapped around his head, you yearn for more than just his fingers as they dance around your entrance, his middle and index digits a mess. Your heart races as your tongue swirls around his tip, tasting his precum against your lips. You salivate, letting your spit lubricate his cock as you use a hand to hold it up. You shuffle to get your tongue at the base, the tip of it touching the juncture of where his cock and balls meet. You feel a vein just right there and it seems to be a sensitive spot for dear old Bakugo, causing him to shudder the moment you touch it. 

“Keep doing that n’ I'm gonna cum like a little boy,” he warns you. And you were going to keep at it and play the part of a dirty little vixen until you feel his wet muscle at the center of your nectarine. Lips around your clit, Bakugo groans around it, tasting you from the fruit itself. It surely keeps you occupied as you momentarily lose focus. You grip around his base, squeezing it and causing his fingers to dig deep into you. Whimpering at the pain, it jolts you out of your haze as you bring his cock to your lips. It's a ravenous torture between the two of you, trying to bask in your pleasure while trying to grant the other some as well. 

Still, you mewl and moan around his length, eyes sparkling in delight as you swallow his shaft. Cheeks hollowing as his pink, cut top rests on your tastebuds. Pre continues to leak from him, a translucent mess that slides down with ease. He feels so good inside your mouth, and you can feel his legs flexing and contracting at what you're administrating. A true, dirty vixen you are.

But, Bakugo's no better to you. Lapping at your pussy like a starved man, both of you are so eager to give to each other. He tastes the intricacies of your pussy, mapping it out with his tongue as his grip around your waist tightens and his free hand is back to join the party. A thumb pressing down on your clit, building up pressure and has your legs tightening around his head. Around his length, your moans become more high-pitched at the overstimulation, feeling your legs tense then untense. 

Your face is a mess, saliva dripping down to your forehead due to this upside down state. Your head beginning to hurt but you don't have the heart to tell Bakugo to stop because you don't want to. It's bound for him to change positions soon, but gosh, you want to delve in this a little longer. You continue to bob your head, the wet sounds mixing with your slurps further sounding the room. You become daring, letting go of your other hand around him and putting all of your faith into Bakugo. Your upper body dangling upside down as your other free hand travels to cup his balls, shortly remembering that spot he oh-so warned you about. 

You fondle them, greeted back to that jerk of his leg as his waist’s now pressed to the door. He momentarily pulls off of you to curse, “Shit.”

However, he never corrected you or tried to get you to stop, simply speeding up his attack on your clit to receive a close response as well. It works, but you remain focus as your mouth is off him for a second as you stroke his length, finally taking in just how big he is and how you truly weren't able to fit all of him in. All this time, working with an aged cock that could destroy you. It has you whimpering out to yourself at the anticipation of your pussy being stretched out by him. His cock glistens even with such a lack of light, your spit being the work of that. Your strokes are quick and languid, mirroring his reign on your clit, causing your hips to jerk and twitch every so often. 

Your actions falter every once in a while, but you're so determined. You're always so determined, that's what Bakugo adores about you. Even as a sidekick that often fucked up, you had your own way of showing it. You were just like him in a way, stubborn as a mule to get what you want. You just needed to learn how not to give in to people when they bite harder. And here he is, gently nibbling down on your folds, but you refuse to back down, determined to make him come undone. 

You fondle his balls, adjusting his cock up, going to that dangerous place that he warned about. A chaste kiss before your lips are fully around it and you're suckling on one of his sacs. In this position, you can truly get a good whiff of him. There's a musk, but don't be mistaken, he's sure to clean himself. It's not overpowering as you can still smell the minty hint of whatever brand of bar soap he's using. The combination has your senses going to overdrive as your legs tighten immensely around him for a moment. 

That typical clench of your stomach goes ignored as you're determined to make Bakugo release. You're unforgiving and relentless, stroking his cock as mouth tries to fit his second sac of balls in. Your moan has become a melody to his ears as his head hits the door and he tries to remain focused on your pussy. She's so damn close, he grunts to himself. Don't give into her just yet. However, it's easier said than done when he feels his cock twitching in your hold and he moans. Sending vibrations straight to your core, your achievement and his response is enough for that band in your stomach to finally snap as he lets go. 

You both gift each other your essence. You, you're the forbidden nectar in the garden of Eden, your juices so natural that it tastes sweet. There's a tang to it that has him quickly intoxicated as he finds himself addicted. Him, he's like a refreshing taste of cold water on a hot summer day. You're feeling nothing but delight when his white cum shoots down your throat and you have no choice but to swallow everything— you wouldn't dare spit anything out. 

You both need a breather to come back to the present. You're still stuck in this now painful position as your head comes to throb and you have to croak out Bakugo's name to remind him. Slowly but surely does he get you back on the right side up before finally taking a step away from the door. His legs work like muscle memory as his lips plant on yours, swallowing away the pain as he makes a beeline for his bedroom. Pushing open the door and not bothering to have it shut, he hurries to put you down on the bed. He still has you in his arms when he does, grinding his still hardened length against your pussy. All traces of your release disappeared on his tongue, but you can still taste the remnants of yourself, as you both can taste each other. 

Now that you're on a bed, you feel yourself slowly checking out as the pain is slowly alleviated by your comfort. Bakugo mutters some stuff that you couldn't care less about, only mewling and nodding in agreement until you feel his hand grab your face, squeezing your cheeks. It's hard to focus on him, to stare right back into his eyes. 

“Awww,” he coos. “Is it all too much for my baby?” He noticed your disorientation immediately, planting a chaste kiss on your lips as his eyebrows knit with concern. “She doesn't want to stop, does she?”

Immediately comprehending that, you shake your head. “Mmm, no,” you squeak out. However, Bakugo's lips drop to your ears, whispering out, “are ya sure? We can always—”

“Yes— yes, I'm sure,” you persist. “I need you, Bakugo. Would you not help a woman in need?”

He doesn't like the way you stammered out that yes, still peering down at you. However, your eyes have significantly steadied now and that same brand of determination is back on your face to finally convince him. He finally caves with a barely audible ‘okay.’ He dives down to meet you for another kiss, hands roaming to grip your legs. So focused on the kiss, you're taken aback when he hikes on leg up, your knee touching your shoulder. His cock is perfectly slotted in between your folds before he does the same with your other leg. 

“Bakugo,” you groan at this change of position. He claims that you'll be the death of him, but you beg to differ. Your soiled panties are still on you, which Bakugo is sure to get rid of in a hurried haste, pulling so hard at it that it rips. You gasp, calling out his name once more, but he dismisses your complaint. “You'll be fine.”

You feel so exposed with your body pressed like this, in the dark with Bakugo looming over you. His cock slides in between your folds, wet sounds running through the air. You don't know what he's waiting for, so you do the work for him, wanting him to ravish you just as much as he does. That familiar grip returns to his cock and before you can press his head to your entrance, he slaps your hand away. You whine in protest, but he pushes you. “Have some patience, honey. Good things take time.”

The return of that damn nickname he's given you. Once used sarcastically, now one that he's going to use to his advantage because of you— all because you couldn’t keep in your attraction for him anymore. You should be grateful for it. It's landed up in this position, but now he always has the upperhand over you, knowing just how to make you cave. 

You clench around nothing, feeling his shaft go in a back and forth rhythm as it barely presses down on your clit how you want it to. You whine nonetheless, hoping that Bakugo will pity your desperation and give in. “Bakugo, please… I need you in me. Need to know how you feel.”

One hand comes to grab your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pucker up. “Oh, is that right? You need to know how I feel inside you? Or what, hm?” He challenges. “Ya gonna die without knowing.”

You nod, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “I just might.”

He can't help but chuckle at that. “Yer cryin’, again? Yer tears don't work on me anymore, honey. They just egg me on. Love to see ‘em now. Know that I've got ya all desperate for me.”

“Don't care,” you mewl. “I want you inside me.”

He keeps up at it, gliding his cock between your folds and letting his shaft collect your juices. You're so fucking wet for him that all he wants to do is bury himself deep inside you and finish, but he practices what he preaches and holds himself back. “Is this how you are with all the men you sleep with? Such a whiny baby. Rumored to be the next number one hero, a crybaby for cock?”

He taunts and teases you, pushing out his bottom lip as he tuts. “It's almost cute.”

From all your whining and desperate begging, you don't realize that Bakugo’s now slotted the tip of his cock at your entrance. It's not until his head is inside and he's deep inside you that you fully register his intrusion, a loud sob coming from your lips as he stretches you out. But just as quick as you were shocked, moans slip easily from your mouth as you drag out just how you're feeling. 

Watching you—watching how your eyes are blazed with a fire that's filled with wanton lust. He's never seen it with everyone else and he quickly realized that you've gotten him under your spell and he's so deep in it that he doesn't want to retract. It's as though you're a succubus, a demon that feeds off of lust, with the way the corner of your lips turn upwards in a smile. Your hands come to wrap around his neck and Bakugo puts all his weight on you, causing him to go deeper in you. 

You feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix, pain mixing in with pleasure. Your back’s barely able to arch against the bed under Bakugo’s heavy weight, but your nails digging into the nape of his neck is enough to communicate just how you feel. As do your words.

“Ba— Katsuki, you feel so good,” that sudden shift from his last to his first name nearly has him cumming inside you too early. The creaking of the bed halts for a moment as his crimson red eyes look deep into yours. With his stillness, it makes you focus on the length that's against your walls, stretching you out. “Yeah, I think I prefer you calling me Katsuki better. Be a good girl and keep at it, will ya?”

It sounds like a request, but in this position, you know it’s a command. You don’t have a chance to respond, not that you were going to. He’s thrusting into you once more, but this pace is more brutal than before as he sits up and drills into your pussy without any remorse. He pushes down on your legs, making them ache as they press against your breast, making them more accentuated. Your moans become more high-pitched as you cry out his name— his first name. 

“That’s it,” he grins, maniacally. “Call my name out like the dirty little slut you are. Let my neighbors know who’s making you feel this good.”

One of your hands drag to cling to his bicep, making marks in a matter of seconds as your juices spill out of you. You’ve never had anyone else make you feel the way that Bakugo does. How he easily takes control and dominates you. With him, he lets you know that while you run the streets of Tokyo, Japan, you’ll always be underneath him. The stinging pain that runs through your lower body is delicious and while you know you’ll bear the consequences in the morning, you bask in the pleasure it secretes now. 

In this moment, you become delirious as your imagination becomes active as you can see a future with Bakugo, but is that what he wants? Hands back on his neck, you tug him down to you. “Katsuki… need you.”

“You’ve already got me, honey,” Bakugo kisses the corner of your lips, pace slowing by a pinch. “What more do you need?”

“Kiss me,” you whisper, eyes becoming glossy with wanton need. Something snaps within the both of you, a sudden shift that changes the trajectory of your relationship with him forever. Time stops for a moment before his lips are on you— lust turning into something more, something fatal. No longer is he pistoning inside you to oblivion, but holding you with more care. Precise thrusts that still get the work done to having you call out his name without a care in the world. 

He’s hitting that special spot inside of you, memorizing the sounds you make just for him. That familiar coil comes back and you bring Bakugo closer to you. “G’nna cum. Please make me cum, Katsuki.”

“Anything for you, honey.” He helps you ride out your orgasm, slowing down as he brings your legs to finally lay on the bed. Not too long after does he empty himself inside you, painting your insides white before pulling out completely. He makes eye contact with you. This. This is the perfect time, your mind tells you. 

Getting your breath steady, you peer up at him. “I never did thank you, y’know.”

“For what?” he grunts, sitting up on the bed, completely towering over you as you stay in place. Climbing over you, he’s reaching for something. Shortly after, he tosses you a water bottle that you catch with ease. 

“Just…” you sigh. “For everything.” 

—

FIVE MONTHS LATER 

"Spiderweb has had such a spectacular come up. From working under retired pro-hero, Dynamite, as a sidekick to being endorsed into a hero. She’s climbed the roster faster than anyone else has and while she had her stumbling moments, she came back to kick butt and prove to Japan that she is the hero they need!"

"We’ve managed to get a video with the pro-hero themself about the announcement of her current hero ranking—" Shortly, they pull up separate footage of a next reporter before it shows you.

“Spiderweb, please tell us how it feels to currently be the number one hero of Japan!”

The camera pans to you, your eyes lighting up in delight. You’re panting heavily standing outside in the hot sun, evidently just finishing a case. You have to catch your breath before your attention is fully turned to the camera. “It feels… It feels unbelievable, y’know? I mean, I’ve heard the rumors about it, but for it to actually come true? It’s only been a couple years into becoming a pro-hero and it feels like it’s something I don’t deserve, but I know for sure that I’ve worked my ass off— sorry for the language, kids!

“I’m just really grateful,” you continue your rambling. “I’m really grateful for everyone who believed in me and put their faith in me, especially my old mentor, the man that endorsed me himself. Dynamite, if you’re watching this! I know I’ve already told you this already, but thank you! I couldn’t have gotten here without you. I love— I mean, I’m forever in your favor.”

It’s a Thursday night and he’s not at the bar this time. Instead, he’s at his place, getting ready to head to yours. He’s lucky he kept the television on to hear you say that. He’ll certainly tease you later for it, but now, a sense of pride washes over him.  “That’s my girl.”

( author's note. ) this was only supposed to be 5k words, but gosh i had so much fun writing this. you guys have no clue.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the sun + the sand- pt. two - peach

↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.

↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

You stood next to the fire, ruby red lips turned up into a smile as you laughed at something stupid one the two stooges had said. You had only come tonight to see Rafe, but as the minutes turned into hours and he still was nowhere to be found, you wondered if John B’s bed would make it sting any less – the promise of seeing Rafe was usually enough to numb everything else, but you couldn’t help to be hurt at his absence. He was the glue that held your broken heart together and tonight he was the hand that held the hammer as it crashed into the fragile glass of it. The jeans that clung to your waist in all the right ways were his favorite, you’d made sure to pick something out that would make you more appealing to the eye, to his eye. You weren’t an idiot, you knew you were beautiful, enough of the island boys had told you so. But, the one boy you wanted to hadn’t and you wondered sometimes if it was because he didn’t think you were. The self-conscious thoughts continued to bloom like flowers on a vine inside your head as you waited, pretending to laugh at Topper’s really bad jokes. You loved Topper, but he had never been funny and his constant trying made you want to gag.  

“I’m gonna get another drink.” 

You muttered, breaking the laughter that previously bellowed from deep within your belly. The boys nodded in your direction, saluting you with the cups in their hands as you made your way to the kegger. You stopped to stand in line and noted the girl in front of you had on a hot pink frilly tank top, one that you found rather beautiful and just as you went to tap her on the shoulder, you noticed Rafe wrap his arm around her from her side. She turned slightly and his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine. 

“Peach, what are you doing here?” 

He questioned, as if you hadn’t previously texted about meeting up in this exact spot. 

“Nothing, I was just leaving.” 

You spoke in a short manner, eyes locked on the ground again before you turned toward the trash can and threw your cup away. He didn’t chase after you like in the movies, though you wished he had and instead of wallowing in the despair that reality caused you, you went in search of your pogue prince. Rafe watched as you walked away, unsure of whether or not you wanted to be chased. He also wasn’t sure if he had the energy to chase you tonight. Would it be so wrong to look for love in someone else when you were never going to give him the time of day anyways? The thought left as quickly as it had come and he felt an immense amount of guilt for it, knowing that as selfish as he was, he could never stop loving you, not really. He watched your hips sway as you retreated from him and his eyes quickly darted locking eyes with none other than JJ Maybank as he stared at your figure crossing the beach in between sips out of a red solo cup. Rafe couldn’t put his finger on what it was, he just knew that the look JJ wore was sinister and something wasn’t right. 

-

You leaned up from the bed, your feet draping over the side as you planted them on the floor and moving to the wooden chair in the corner of John B’s room where your clothes lay. You wore his shirt, quickly taking it off as you slid your jeans and shirt back over your body. 

“Well that was fun.” 

He said with a sly smirk, laying on his side with one hand propping up his head. His floppy hair was dreamy and accentuated his features nicely, but it was nothing compared to Rafe’s. You pulled out your phone and texted Rafe, even though you were sure there was someone much more worthwhile lying underneath him. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about that detail at the moment, you just wanted to get away from the situation you were in. 

Peach:  It’s okay if you’re busy and can’t, but can you pick me up? 

“Yeah.” 

You finally responded, voice monotone, lacking any real sense of enjoyment. Because frankly, you weren’t enjoying it. John B was cute but five minutes in and he was cumming, not caring anything about your needs. You thought that after the first time, it couldn’t get worse so you continued seeing him, but you were wrong and you had yet to get any real release. You made your way out of the makeshift fishing shack and pulled up Rafe’s contact again as you made your way down the steps. 

Rafey: Sorry, I can’t. 

Rafe felt guilt rise in the bottom of his stomach, leaving you stranded. 

Peach: Okay :) 

You responded almost instantaneously and that worried him, the thought of you being so urgent for his answer led his brain down a rabbit hole. 

Rafey: I can send someone to get you. Send me your location. 

He replied, hoping that his offer would be enough to make you feel safe. 

Peach: it’s okay, i can walk 

The thought of you walking anywhere after eleven pm made him sick to his stomach, especially with the way JJ had previously been staring at you and speaking of JJ – where the fuck was he? He wondered as he looked around the party, unable to spot him. 

Rafey: Walk?? From where?? 

He questioned, bile rising up in his throat at the thought of you being vulnerable and unknowing of the danger that loomed in the night. 

Peach: John’s. 

You replied, but he already knew the answer. The Life 360 app on his phone giving your location away.

Rafey: Stay there, I’m coming. 

Peach: It’s okay, I don’t want to ruin your night. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow. 

The text made you uneasy, as you felt guilty ruining another night for him. You knew deep down he didn’t view it that way, but it didn’t make you feel any less shitty. 

Rafey: Dammit, y/n. Stay there. 

-

Like every other day, you didn’t listen to Rafe. Instead, you started your seven mile walk home, disappointed that Rafe had told you no. He had never told you no before, even when he was caught up with Ward, so it must’ve meant he was having a good time with the girl from the party. You shrugged it off, as you continued walking, the heels you had worn to the party leaving blisters on the backs of your heels like bruises against abused skin. You looked at your feet as you walked, trying not to let yourself wallow in the despair of it all. Though, you hoped that wherever Rafe was and whoever he was with, that he was happy. You didn’t have time to blink before you heard tires screech as they passed you, slamming on breaks quickly. You looked up, taking in the midnight blue truck that was etched into your brain – that would always linger like a tattoos kiss; it was Rafe and you smiled to yourself that he came. But, you were angry at yourself that you had ruined yet another night for him. You wondered why he hadn’t discarded you like everyone else and why he was always the hero of your story; you wondered if he always would be. You looked back and kept walking, deciding that the most selfish thing that you could do was get in the truck and while usually that wouldn’t bother you, you wouldn’t let it happen tonight. He turned his vehicle around, and began riding beside you on the pavement. 

“Sweetheart, get in the truck.” 

He spoke softly, yet it was a command and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You felt your knees grow weak, but couldn’t bring yourself to look at him so you did what any self respecting simp would, you kept walking. 

“y/n, get in the truck.” 

He spoke again, with a deeper growl and more command. This was the voice he used during team huddles and when he was angry with Sarah. He had only used it on you a few times and the fact that he was using it on you tonight, meant that he was angry and the thought of him being angry at you brought tears to your eyes. You kept walking wanting the feeling of your skin crawling to cease immediately. He watched as your shoulders slumped, unsure of what was plaguing you, he just knew something was wrong. So, he threw the truck in park and climbed down, catching up to your moving frame. It wasn’t hard with the blisters that littered your feet. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him, taking in your flushed cheeks and the tears that were cascading down them, he placed your cheeks in his hands. 

“What’s the matter, peach?” 

He asked, his voice as soft as it could possibly be. You swallowed thickly before attempting to look down at your feet, but he stopped you, bringing your chin up with his forefinger and thumb. 

“Peach, baby, what’s the matter? Did John B hurt you?” 

Your eyes went wide in response and you quickly shut down that notion, knowing what Rafe was capable of when it came to the people he loved. 

“Uh, no. No, not really. I hurt myself.” 

He looked confused as he scoured your body for cuts, bruises, and broken bones. 

“Where, sweetheart? Why didn’t you call? Did you fall? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” 

He asked urgently, the words flying from his mouth like a bat flying out of hell’s grasp. 

“No, I’m fine. I mean emotionally, I hurt myself.” 

“What happened?” 

He questioned. 

“Nothing that I didn’t already expect.” 

You muttered. 

“Why do you let these boys treat you so badly, sweetheart?” 

He questioned, kindly, dropping his large frame in front of your face, pushing the hair away from your face. 

“Because no one else wants me.” 

You whispered into the cool October air, shivering and Rafe took off his pullover, draping it over your form. 

“What did you just say?” 

He asked, shocked at your revelation. You couldn’t meet his eye, swallowing thickly as you dropped your gaze to your feet. 

“Come on, Rafe. I know what people say.” 

You said, flatly. 

“And what do they say, peach?” 

He questioned, innocently, though, probing you to be vulnerable with him. 

“That I’m a – you know what.” 

You grimaced as the words left your lips. 

“What do they say, y/n?” 

He asked, more urgently. 

“That I’m a slut, okay? You’re not stupid, you know what they say and you know that’s why no one but pogues like me. That’s why I don’t even like myself!” 

You finally shouted back at him, frustratedly as you cried. 

“Hey, come on, you know that’s not true, Peach.” 

He cooed, pulling you into his warm embrace and placing a kiss on your temple. You couldn’t do anything but cling to him in that moment, scared that he’d see you for what you truly were, scared that he'd change his mind. For a moment, you had the boy you loved in your arms and you didn’t want him to go away again. 

As always, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know <3

[stitchedcosmos]

Abt the Orcatstra stuff

TLDR: I've looked through their posts as well as others and I can't find any proof they did anything wrong. Orca making NSFW art, saying they don't like a ship and blocking people who like that ship is completely normal and you shouldn't take it personally.

Long ver:

People in the DSAF fandom (mainly Tumblr) are freaking out about a take Orcatstra made on shipping Jack with Harry, Jake and/or Rodger, allegedly harassing people who ship them, one case being running a 14/15-year-old off the website and making NSFW art, mainly gore.

About the ship: I think Orcatstra's take is completely understandable. "Oh but the phone can leave" and "Oh but he treats them well in the Good ending" doesn't matter. At the end of the day, whether he treats them well or not is completely irrelevant. Jack can choose at any time whether they live or die. When he fires them, they get murdered. He has power over them and that is a power imbalance that a lot of people are going to be uncomfortable with. In cases like Dave, Matt, Steven or Henry, if things don't go well between the two, they have the ability to leave with no fear of something bad happening to them. The phones on the other hand, could get fired (die) if they're not on Jack's good side with just a simple phone call. Even if they left, they literally mention Afton Robotics hunting down escaped phone guys and a simple phone call telling AR one's gone rouge is all it takes. Doing this after getting pissed off by them or whatever, is completely in character for Jack to do (especially legacy). People bring up that Jack treats them well in the good ending but how about all the other routes? Especially in the Legacy routes, Jack treats them like shit and actively uses this power imbalance against them on multiple occasions. People bring up Davesport as a retort to this, bringing up how utterly devoted Dave can be, but Dave when treated like this usually fights back or distances himself away from him, neither is something the phones can do without fear of getting killed. At the end of the day, it all comes down to how you headcanon Jack to act, but the power imbalance is definitely enough to put a lot of people off. Also, as a POC myself, I don't think them saying it felt like "Owner x Slave" to them, was racist.

About the blocking: Blocking people is something people are allowed to do for whatever reason they like. If someone posts content you don't like, the normal response most people have is to block them. Whether you feel the block is "deserved" or not, doesn't matter. Hell, sometimes I block people over a single post or comment they make because I simply disagree with it so much. Blocking people is completely okay under literally any circumstance.

About harassment: I have found no proof of this. Seriously. I've looked through multiple people's accounts, including Orca's and have found nothing. I'm even seeing people ask for proof and being told the person has none. the dsaf confessions account keeps getting brought up as proof of someone who got harassed but looking at both their posts and Orca's, from what I've seen, no harassment happened. From what I can tell, all of this is a complete misunderstanding where Orca talking about not liking the account got interpreted as Orca bullying them. If they don't like them and want to post about not liking them, they have the right to do that.

Edit: Just remembered this so I’ll quickly add it now, people are shouting at orca 4 “harassing a minor” but they’re a minor themselves.

About NSFW: They're allowed to draw it. DSAF is an NSFW series and therefore has A LOT of NSFW topics, subjects, scenes and characters in it. If someone wants to draw that, they have the right to. If you don't like it, block them. Some people are saying they should tag their gore art and while I personally agree with that, if they don't want to, they have every right not to. It's their blog and if you don't like it, just block them and move on. "But what if a child sees it" on Tumblr, you can only see what you search up or are personally interested in, a child shouldn't be looking at DSAF-related content in the first place because, again, it is an NSFW series.

Overall, my thoughts on the matter are... *drum roll*

It's not that serious and the block button is free. If you don't like someone, what they're doing, what they're posting, block them. It's that simple and getting blocked doesn't mean anything. This situation, as well as others like it, are making me fear that most of you aren't old enough to even know what DSAF is, let alone be in the fandom.

[fiamat12]

RE: ADJACENTS - PART GET OUT!

So, in case you haven't noticed about my posts/ blog, I mostly like to deal in receipts that are publicly available to us. I DO NOT like "facts" derived from pure hearsay. It's not my style. I feel it has its place - perhaps in Fanfic or private GC - but not on a shipper blog where I'm trying to minimize misinformation & jumpscares.

With that said, this is where I stand on recent developments from public info.:

1- JD and N are not together. JD's recent posts were very clear in not only removing his link to N but demonstrating they are just friends. If you feel differently, there's a Jakola blog still up & running a click away.

2- L & A are disentangled based on Lukola's activity. It's an uphill battle to use A supposedly moving out of L's flat to prove they're "over", because there's nothing to say she was there to begin with (not saying it couldn't be true, just that we quite literally have nothing to say that it is). Imo, a transactional agreement is the most plausible.

Note: anything stated about A housesitting, living w/ L's sis or L letting her stay is pure speculation from blogs when the WT started; there was one pic S shared of A, supposedly in L's flat, that was unverified at the time and was likely posted to allude to something that wasn't true, as A has repeatedly done.

Regardless, I'd much rather listen to N, who has given us solid hints versus a known instigator & attention seeker.

3- Status of R & S/ anyone else in the friend group is purely for morbid curiosity. BUT I don't think they have a bearing on L & N atp. I do wonder about NDAs or what may have happened to make them go silent, so any morsels around that are welcome - receipts though, not hearsay stated as fact, please! Theories, of course, are always quite fine...

Right now, however, I'm enjoying the adjacent silence and am sat for Married Polin in S4 w/ babies and what's to come with Lukola. Let's gooo!!!