#bath towel series

[letsgauxplay]

mehehe.

[suncoved]

SALTWATER BLUES ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

CHAPTER ONE — ENDLESS INTERACTIONS!

pairing; childhoodbestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: You return to the outer banks after moving away with your mother at 13, leaving your best friend Rafe, alone and confused with no way out. Now you're back, 6 years later.. and it's an absolute shit show.

series masterlist !

Rafe threw his head back as he snorted his first line of the night, the rush quickly making its way to his brain as his body relaxed. He sniffed more from the intrusion, scanning his eyes over the crowd of people at the party on a normal night in the outer banks.

"My boy knows how to party!" Topper enthusiastically claimed, walking up to Rafe who was sat around the glass table on the balcony.

"Shut up topper" He grumbled in reply, glancing over at the girl following behind his blonde friend. "Rafe, this is Marley. Said she wanted to get to know you"

The girl batted her eyelashes at Rafe, her legs glistening in her very short skirt. "not happening" Rafe replied, preparing the next round of his supply as he waved his hand at the pair in front of him to go away.

"Well, the king has spoken. Sorry Marls, he's been a bit grumpy for well.. always."

Rafe rolled his eyes at Topper's words, not even bothering to watch as the girl walked away begrudgingly.

"When are you gonna move on man, I mean we all loved her but.. she's not coming back." Topper sighed, sitting on the chair next to Rafe. "Shut the fuck up, you don't know the first thing about me and her. " He snapped back, his blood boiling at the mention of you, as it always did.

He was so angry.

So angry that you had left him without a goodbye. So angry that he couldn't hold your hand or cuddle you. So angry he couldn't just have you back.

But what made him the most angry, was that it wasn't angry at all.

He could never be angry at you. All he wanted was you back in his arms, but he knew that was never happening.

And he was yet to make peace with that fact.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"I've missed you so much!" Kie squealed as she ran into your arms, pushing you back as you giggled and hugged her. "I've missed you too Kie. It's been too long," you replied solemnly, pulling back to look at her face for the first time in years.

"Outerbanks hasn't been the same without you" Kiara replied, squeezing you extra tight as she pulled back. You just smiled in response, taking a deep breath of the fresh Obx air you didn't know you missed so much.

"Well c'mon, we have swimming to do." You giggled, pulling off your shirt and shorts to reveal your bikini underneath, feeling the soft sand between your toes.

You couldn't wait for her as she shimmed out of her clothes, looking at her and smiling before running to the water.

You had only been back in the Obx for a matter of hours, digging through your suitcase to find the first bathing suit you could see before running out of your house.

The feeling of the fresh, clear, water on your skin as you dived under waves was unmatched to anything you had felt before. Like before this, you had never even lived before.

All the worries and panic about coming back home dissipating the second you touched the sea.

You don't know how long you were swimming, but the second you came back to consciousness the sun was setting over the horizon.

As you swam back to the shore, you heard a bustle on the sand in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at the commotion, your feet finding their way to the sand below you as you walked out of the water.

Having only spent about 6 hours back in the Outerbanks, you hadn't yet become acquainted with the nightlife of the teenagers of Kildare.

You heard your name being yelled behind you as you walked up the beach to your towel and clothes, turning around to see Kiara now fully dry and fully dressed.

"Oh my god, you were swimming that whole time? I thought you went home!" Kie gasped as you noticed a red solo cup in her hand.

"I always lose track of time out there. What's all this?" you questioned, looking around at the crowds of teenagers and music pumping in your ears at the once peaceful boneyard.

"Kegger, Wait! C'mon, The boys will be so happy your back!" She enthusiastically replied, pulling you towards the crowds while you were still drying off with your towel.

"Wait Kie!" you gasped, much preferring that she gave you the chance to put on some clothes first.

"Guys! Look whose back" Kiara exclaimed, pulling you out from behind her to see the trio of troublemaking pouges from your childhood.

"Hey, no way! The kook princess is back in town" JJ gasped, pulling you in for a hug as you smiled. "Hey J"

You were never that close with the Pouges, because well you were never in the same circle as them. Though, Pope's dad Heyward knew your father from childhood and was at your house from time to time.

After exchanging hugs with the rest of the boys, they soon went into a conversation about god knows what, letting you have the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

You sighed to yourself as you walked down the beach, attempting to escape the commotion of the Kegger. It wasn't dark yet, so you found yourself sitting in the soft sand, staring at the waves in peace.

You were yet to see or hear of the Cameron boy you had been thinking about your whole life.

Wondering what he had been up to for the last 6 years of your life. Was he in college? What did he look like now? Was he tall, handsome?

You had endless amounts of questions, but you were still undecided if you actually wanted them to be answered.

You brought your legs into your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself, letting your head rest on your arms as you stared into the horizon.

You looked behind you as you heard voices, watching a girl climb onto a red buoy that had washed up on the shore. You squinted your eyes as you saw a familiar boy lend her a hand to get down.

Topper.

As Sarah looked over the shore from her view, she noticed you sat alone. And i mean, you're someone people never forget, and along with the fact she hadn't stopped hearing about you from her older brother since she could remember.

You hear your name from behind you as you turn, seeing Sarah run up to you with Topper following cluelessly behind.

"Hey Sarah" You sigh, trying to be as enthusiastic as possible but you can't help but crave silence right now.

"What're doing back here, I thought I'd never see you again" She exclaims, leaning down to hug you. "Can't get rid of me that quick"

"Hey Topper" You spoke, watching as he nervously peered at you behind Sarah.

As much as you loved Sarah, you guys were never close. Sure you could have a good conversation with her occasionally, but you were always closer to Topper, because well, where you went, Rafe went.

You watched as someone called Sarah's name, making her turn around and walk towards the voice. Leaving you and Topper alone on the shore.

Instead of following her, he took a seat next to you on the sand.

"We've missed you a lot y'know" He sighed, shuffling closer to you as you turned to him "He's not doing good, at all. He needs you"

You felt a tear making its way down your cheek at the mention of Rafe, turning away quickly to wipe it off your face. "See him soon alright, please"

With his last statement, he got up and left you to your thoughts.

When your mom decided to whisk you away back to the mainland, you didn't only lose your father and all you knew, but the love of your life as well.

You and Rafe were inseparable, and you had always wondered what your life would be like if you never had left.

You looked over the crowd at Kie, who was having fun and laughing with her friends. Deciding against having the whole 'I'm going home now' conversation where you knew she was going to try to get you to stay, you walked the length of the beach back to your house.

You didn't even know how you would go about seeing Rafe again. Were you gonna show up to his house and offer milk and cookies, or hide from him for the rest of your life until you could have plastic surgery to change your face so he couldn't recognise you?

Probably the latter.

You held your shoes in your hands as you walked up the staircase to your room, your dad nowhere in sight, and the house as quiet as it was in your childhood.

You sighed as you flicked the light on in your room, the sky outside now pitch black.

You immediately start pulling off your shirt and shorts which were over your bikini. The mixture of the sand and the still-damp swimsuit making you squirm.

You look over to your balcony and realise your curtains are still open, making the wise decision that you should probably shut them before completely stripping, you walk over to the window.

You reach to each side of the fabric, beginning to pull them into each other before your eyes are cast to the light in front of you from outside.

You look over to the bedroom opposite yours out the window, clothes strewn across the floor, the bed unmade... Oh! and your childhood best friend staring right at you in utter shock.

Shoot, there goes your master plan.

[bro-atz]

rooftop pool cool down

in which: it's hot as fuck outside, and your boyfriend decided that he wanted to go swimming to cool down.

pair: wooyoung/afab!reader

word count: 2k

content: smut, slight pwp, established relationship, nicknames (baby, babe), reader is wearing a one-piece bathing suit, slight ice play, semi-public sex, pool sex (which i do not recommend unless you prepare properly for it), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL), completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: "i made it my personal mission to kill fawn" — fawn, 2k24

summer boys series: wooyoung, san, jongho

“It’s so hot!” you complained at the top of your lungs.

You flung your head back and whined as you weakly fanned yourself with your hand. It was a really fucking hot day, and of course, your AC unit had to break. Your boyfriend suggested you two go to the pool since there was a rooftop pool at the bougie-ass gym near your apartment, and while you thought that was a great idea at first, you regretted it immediately. A rooftop pool was a terrible idea because you were that much closer to the sun.

“Babe, the pool water is cold, and you’re lying down in the shade— how can you still be complaining?” Wooyoung asked as he swam past your lounge chair.

“Wooyoung, my love, it’s fucking hot. I’ll be complaining all the live-long day,” you grumbled. “Also, you do realize that we have the entire rooftop pool to ourselves because it’s so fucking hot that no one wants to go outside?!”

“Even better! We don’t have to share the space!”

Wooyoung grinned at you and continued swimming. You huffed and laid back in the shade. You fanned yourself as much as you could with your hand before getting exhausted. You groaned in frustration once more before flinging your head back into the lounge chair. You looked to your side to see that even your iced tea was sweating to death— actually, the tea was long gone at that point. It was just a cup of ice that was melting rapidly.

“Wooyoung, look!” you caught your boyfriend’s attention and pointed to the cup of ice on the table next to you. “Even the cup is sweating.”

Wooyoung swam up and got out of the pool. He grabbed the towel he had resting on the chair next to you and started patting himself down as he looked at the ice.

“Babe, why don’t you just press the cup against you? Won’t that cool you down?” Wooyoung reasoned.

You opened your mouth to respond, but you truly had no response— it was so hot that your brain was barely functioning. Wooyoung smiled at your expression, his eyes turning into crescents. He sat down on the edge of your chair and grabbed the cup. He pressed it against your neck to cool you down, and it worked well; so well, in fact, that you thought your skin was extinguishing and sizzling because of how fucking hot you were.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Wooyoung whispered.

You looked at him in confusion— why was he whispering? You nodded your head to get him to keep talking, but he remained silent. He fished one of the more intact ice cubs out of the cup and popped it into his mouth. Next thing you knew, Wooyoung was pressing his lips against yours. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, the ice cube rolling onto your tongue. You for sure thought you were going to choke on the ice cube, but Wooyoung was supporting the back of your head with his hand, keeping you upright and steady so that the ice didn’t slip down your throat.

The ice cube melted within seconds, but Wooyoung didn’t let that stop him from kissing you to the point where he was practically eating you alive. He popped another ice cube into his mouth, and your tongues played keep away with ice until it melted. He was about to go for another one when you pushed the cup of ice away, your hands cupping his face and resting on his shoulder. You didn’t give a fuck about the ice at that point; you just wanted to keep kissing your boyfriend.

You pushed the cup away, but Wooyoung still grabbed a cube. You were about to get huffy and frustrated with him, but you didn’t have to once you felt what he did with it. Your spine tingled when he pulled the strap of your bathing suit down to reveal your breast before immediately rubbing the ice cube in circles on your nipple.

“Holy shit,” you gasped as the ice cube melted, leaving Wooyoung’s fingers to tease your nipples. “Oh my God, Wooyoung…”

“You like that baby?” Wooyoung asked breathlessly as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You want more?”

Wooyoung reached for the cup again, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Enough of the fucking ice cubes. I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out, your words nearly turning into a whine.

“Oh?” Wooyoung chuckled. “Isn’t it too hot for that, babe?”

“Shut up,” you actually whined that time. “I need you, baby.”

“Where?”

You looked around. There was no way you were going to be able to fuck in the lounge chairs because there were cameras nearby. You thought about the locker rooms when Wooyoung interrupted your thoughts with an insane one of his own.

“We can do it in the pool…”

“Oh my— Wooyoung, you’re fucking insane!”

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

Fun?!

Before you could continue the argument, Wooyoung got a good grasp on your arm and pulled you into the pool before jumping in himself. You sputtered and pushed your hair out of your face when you surfaced, anger and fear taking control of your brain. You watched Wooyoung surface and shake his own hair out before pushing it back. He looked incredibly sexy and even more so because you were watching his side profile. The way he tilted his head back, making his neck and jawline look irresistible, made you swallow the pool of saliva collecting in your mouth nervously.

After that, it was definitely lust running your brain.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist and led you to one of the corners of the pool— a definite blind spot from cameras and anyone who entered if they were to. As soon as you got there, Wooyoung's lips crashed into yours, his hands grabbing your waist desperately. You breathlessly made out with him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You clung to him as he did most of the work. He slipped his hands under your bathing suit, his hands briefly straying towards your breasts before he decided he had no patience for foreplay. He ran his fingers down between your legs and rubbed your folds with two fingers before pushing the suit aside.

Your back was pinned against the ledge as Wooyoung moved your leg up and around your waist. He pulled his cock out of his swim shorts and rubbed the length along your cunt, sparks shooting through your nerves. He stopped kissing you to look at your face— you looked desperate as hell with your half lidded eyes and your slightly parted lips, and it excited Wooyoung further. He chuckled at your expression before tilting his head down so he could try to peer through the water at his cock and your entrance.

"This might hurt, babe, so brace yourself," Wooyoung said lightly.

You didn't think it would because water should be a natural lubricant, right? Well, he was right; it did hurt, but not as much as you thought it would. You clung a little closer to him as he pushed his cock all the way inside, the movement of the water stimulating you a little further. You gasped and held onto the back of Wooyoung's neck when you felt him suddenly thrust, your nails leaving little indents in his tattoo.

Wooyoung was trying desperately to hold back his own grunts as he fucked you haphazardly. Every time he moved, the water around you swayed, making everything he did more sensuous; and because you were so weightless in the water, Wooyoung was able to easily move you the way he wanted. He lifted you up slightly, making you wrap your legs around his waist and cling to him completely. You were clinging to him, but you were trembling uncontrollably because not only did it feel so damn good, but you were also terrified of falling into the water and swallowing a great deal of pool water.

"Babe, look at me," Wooyoung said breathlessly as he tilted his head up.

Your eyes met his, and all of your worries vanished within seconds. You cupped his face and kissed him softly, slowly, sensually. You felt like you were on cloud nine with the way he was kissing you and holding your ass and moving your body up and down on his cock like a weightless fairy, and it only got better when Wooyoung's tongue slipped into your mouth again. You sighed blissfully in between kisses, Wooyoung's own breath hitching every so often when he bottomed out.

To be honest, you were a little disappointed when your feet touched the bottom of the pool when Wooyoung set you down and pulled out, but that disappointment disappeared within seconds when he turned you around and pressed your chest up against the wall. He slipped his cock back inside you before reaching around and pushing his hands under your bathing suit to cup your breasts. You couldn't help but let out a moan when you felt his fingers pinch and twist your nipples, making him laugh a little.

You were clinging to the edge of the pool as he fucked you from behind. He did rut slowly at first, but the second he felt your cunt clench around his cock, he moved rapidly. The flow of the water was definitely slowing him down from his usual pace, but that didn't change how fucking amazing it felt to be railed by your boyfriend.

It was when Wooyoung bucked his hips upwards did he graze your G-spot, and he continued to fuck you at that angle, making him hit your G-spot repeatedly. You let out a soft crying moan as he continued to fuck you even past your peak pleasure. Your brain was so far gone that you couldn't even ask him to slow down, so he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, your walls fluttering then clenching as you let the pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck— Babe, you got so tight!" Wooyoung couldn't help but hiss when he felt you squeeze his cock.

"D-Don't pull out, baby," you stuttered. "Cum inside— Ah!"

The second you told him to, Wooyoung rammed his waist into yours. His hands were still cupping your breasts, so he squeezed them hard as he came, a long groan leaving him as he did so. He kept his cock buried inside you for a while while he rested his chin on your shoulder. You could hear him sigh with content as he let go of your breasts and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you closely.

"You still feeling hot, babe?" Wooyoung whispered.

"No, not really," you responded after thinking about it for a second.

You could hear Wooyoung hum happily in response. You bit back a moan when you felt him finally pull out. Wooyoung barely got to adjust your swimsuit before you turned in his arms and held the back of his neck. He kissed you softly before leaning away slightly to gaze at your face.

"I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"You never ask me to cum inside, so why'd you say to now?" Wooyoung asked before quickly adding, "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"I didn't want to risk having your cum float around," you murmured.

"...Does cum really do that?"

"Sometimes it does..."

"How do you know that?" Wooyoung asked teasingly, but you could see in his eyes that he was a little worried.

"I saw a reel about it," you admitted coyly, making him laugh loudly.

"Well... We should probably get washed up, then. I'll help you."

"...You want to have shower sex, don't you?"

"No, I want to make sure you don't get a yeast infection," Wooyoung responded as he hopped out of the pool. He held his hand out for you to grab, and on your way out of the pool, he whispered, "But shower sex doesn't sound so bad either."

networks:

@atzhouse @blossomnet @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@ksmutsociety @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

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apply for the permanent taglist here!

[gojipink]

teach me!

ஐ ft. alhaitham

ஐ summary. alhaitham teaches you how to give him a blowjob!

ஐ warnings. N!SFW, mdni, fem!reader, finger sucking, fem. pet names. 1.6k words

ஐ notes. part of my bj mini series! find the other parts here!

alhaitham’s strong hands tug at the towel that’s wrapped around your body, pulling the cloth off you while pulling you closer to him as your lips yield to his onslaught of fiery kisses. you struggle to keep up with him as you tug onto his hair, still damp from the bath you just took together. breaking away from his lips, you peek down at his stiff length; cock flushed and already oozing at the tip all because you innocently wondered out loud how it would feel to have him in your mouth.

“is it…will it fit?” you hesitantly ask while staring down at your boyfriend’s heavy cock, standing proudly against his toned abs.

The dim, candle-lit bedroom creates an atmosphere so sensual it was almost suffocating.

alhaitham exhales a quiet laugh, his big hands coming up to cup your cheeks to tilt your head up to look at him, “we’ll take it slow, love. you don't have to do any more than you think you can take.” 

you pout at him, “i wanna make you feel good though, wanna be able to take all of it-” 

“and we’ll work up to that,” he reassures with a teasing glint in his eye, his thumbs circling your cheeks lovingly. “it doesn't matter how much you're able to take, it’ll feel good regardless, i promise.”

you hum apprehensive, “okay but you have to help me ‘haitham, have to tell me how you like it,” you bargain as your hands come up to rest on his muscular stomach, fingertips shyly tracing the distinct grooves on each muscle. the glow of the candles highlighting every prominent feature on his body, making him look more handsome than ever.

one of his hands trace down your face to rub at your shoulder reassuringly, “i will, love. we’ll practice first, hm?” you give him a small nod as he slides a hand down your jaw, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip before tapping it lightly. “open,” he whispers.

your body reacts before your brain fully processes his words, lips parting immediately with your tongue poking out just slightly to kitten lick at his fingertip. his lips lift into a small smile as he watches you test the waters, his dick involuntarily jumping at the feeling of your soft tongue. 

“see? you know what to do, i don't even need to give you any instructions, do i?” he says lowly, your head becomes a little fuzzy with his praise. feeling a little bolder, you inch forward allowing his thumb to fully slip inside your mouth, your lips wrapping around the digit. alhaitham draws a deep breath in, his eyes becoming half-lidded watching you slightly bob your head around his finger, tongue massaging at the pad of his thumb. his hard cock twitches between your bodies, the leaky tip dribbling pre-cum on the floor. 

he hums a little absentmindedly before pulling out his thumb and replacing it with his index and middle finger. you moan around his fingers, mouth feeling more stuffed as his fingers play and massage around your tongue.

he stares with a hungry gaze at the lewd sight in front of him; your mouth sucking around his two fingers as if it were candy while you look up at him with unfocused eyes, small whines escape you as he plays with your tongue. 

he slides his fingers towards the back of your throat causing you to choke a little in surprise, your fingernails dig into his defined muscles as he repeats the action, slowly allowing your throat to relax and accommodate his long fingers. 

“did someone else teach you? is that why you're already so good, huh?” he teases in a low voice, your cheeks flaring with embarrassment at his mock accusation. you look up at him with doe eyes, eyebrows slightly knitted together, cheeks still hallowed around his fingers as you try to shake your head. 

alhaitham chuckles as he rhythmically slides his fingers in and out between your plush lips, “just teasing you, my love. you’re doing so well for me, aren't you?”

you whimper around his fingers, mind growing dizzy with need as his praises make your slick smear onto your naked thighs. thighs involuntarily pressing together for friction, you hardly even recognize your own actions until alhaitham huffs out a small laugh as he glances down. 

“oh, my sweet girl,” he coos, “you like sucking my fingers that much?” 

 you moan out a small mhm around him, your mind clouding over with a lustful haze, only growing more desperate to feel more of him, to taste more of him. 

feeling emboldened by his positive reactions, your hands drift away from his middle until they loosely grip at the base of his aching cock. 

his teeth grit together at the sudden feeling of your hands on him, your soft strokes timed perfectly to match your head as you bob along his fingers. 

“mmh- you want it that bad? think youre ready to try it out, angel?” he reaches his fingers towards your throat again, relishing in the way he can feel the vibrations of your small affirming “mhm”, the sensation making his dick twitch in your hold.

drawing his fingers out of your mouth, he leans in to press a deep kiss to your lips.

“take it slow, okay? i’ll talk you through it,” he whispers against your lips. 

you whisper a small okay as he gently takes your hands away from his dick in order to keep you steady while you slowly drop to your knees. 

alhaitham takes his throbbing cock into his hand, giving himself a few pumps to alleviate the pressure that was already causing his heavy balls to tighten. paired with the sight of you on your knees in front of him, ready and so eager to do anything he asks, he knows that he's not going to last as long as he wishes to. 

“do it just like how you were sucking on my fingers, it’s the same thing. don't be scared of it, i won't hurt you,” he instructs soothingly, one hand coming up to massage at your neck while the other guides his swollen tip to very lightly trace your bottom lip. 

nodding up at him, you open your mouth and poke your tongue out to swipe along his leaking slit, noticing the way alhaitham’s abs clench and how tightly he flexes his jaw. mimicking the way your tongue played with his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his sensitive cock head before taking the tip into your mouth, cheeks hollowed to create a tight suction. 

“ugh f-fuck-! just mmh- just like that, doing so well for me, hm?” he pants out, his eyes locked on the way your lips wrap around his mushroom tip combined with the unfocused look in your eyes as you drink up every instruction and every reaction from him. 

you hum around his cock making his fingers tighten around the hairs that lay at the nape of your neck. his tight grip tangled in your hair turns to gentle tugging as he slowly begins to guide your movements and the timing of your bobbing. 

struggling to fit all of his thick cock into your mouth, you wrap a hand around the base and twist up to whatever your mouth can’t reach in time with your mouth. 

alhaitham’s head tilts back, eyes closing for just a moment, allowing himself to wholeheartedly focus on how your tongue feels. the dizzying contrast of how your tongue feels when the soft muscle massages at the protruding vein on the underside of his cock on each downward stroke versus the way your tongue swirls around his sensitive tip when you pull back up has alhaitham’s teeth gnashed together as he desperately tries to stifle the guttural groans you pull from him. 

“j-just like that, mmph-! good girl, princes-mmh-! doing s-so good f’me,” he chokes out, tilting his head back down to watch you as that familiar flame of white hot pleasure starts to lick up his spine. “gonna cum just like this ugh, wanna swallow it?” 

you look up at him with lust filled eyes as you moan affirmatively around his pulsing cock making his lips part in a silent moan as his eyebrows knit together, sweat dripping from his neck pooling at his sharp collarbones. 

“oh just like that, angel, oh fuck, c-cumming-!” 

it's a messy scene filled with saliva and creamy cum as his heavy load leaks out the corners of your mouth while alhaitham’s grip on your hair forces your head still while he shallowly bucks his hips into your stuffed mouth. 

he pants harshly as he leaves his cock nestled against your tongue, flinching slightly from the pricks of overstimulation each time he feels you swallow, the action making your suction even tighter paired with the feeling of the back of your tongue pressing hard against his tip.

coming down from his high with a sigh he gently untangles his fingers out of your hair and slowly pulls his half-hard cock away from your lips, smiling when you let out a small aaah to show him you swallowed everything he gave you. 

bringing a thumb to the corners of your lips to wipe away the smears of cum that leaked out, you surprise him when you catch his wrist and lick away the excess collected on the pad of his thumb. 

“you-” he starts, a little surprised at your bold action before huffing out a laugh as he helps you back up to your feet. pressing you against his chest as he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

you lightly pull away from him, “was that okay?” you shyly as you tilt your head at him waiting for his praise. 

he shakes his head softly smiling at you, feeling his cock twitch back to life at your innocent behavior, “better. better than just ‘okay’, my love. always.”

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (8/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, smut, the angst, broad description of suicide attempt (blood), forbidden relationship, half-manipulation, imprisonment, mention of murder, kind of toxic behaviour, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She knew that she was paying for her naivety and stupidity, for not listening to Daemon and her premonition. She wasn't even able to fully blame her uncle for what had happened, because even though he was the one who had imprisoned her, she had thrown herself into his arms herself.

She let him thrust into her body, she let him fill herself with his warm seed, thinking that perhaps there was a way for them, no matter how twisty and difficult.

Lying in his room on his bed, pretending she didn't see his pleading, desperate looks in her direction, she had plenty of time to think about herself and her life.

She realised that everything she was doing, her naivety, her desire to help him stemmed from the belief that if it was possible to fix him, to set him on the right path, to free him from this sullen, dark fate, there was also hope for her.

The hope that one day there would come a moment in her life when she would feel peace.

Meanwhile, instead of peace, something else filled her.

Emptiness.

She felt nothing when it turned out that he had taken her phone, when he locked his room door when he left, when he spoke to her or asked her something.

She pretended that all this wasn't happening, that she was actually on the beach, gazing out at the endless sea, listening to its sound.

She couldn't bear the sight of him, the smell of him, his touch, and everything she had dreamed of and held dear became, in her eyes, foreign and hated: hearing him, she felt as if a stranger, with whom she wanted nothing to do, was speaking to her.

She did not want his explanations.

His apology.

She felt nothing, experienced nothing, needed nothing.

She didn't even feel the need to go home: even if she were free again, it wouldn't change anything.

Her uncle had broken something in her and they both knew it.

Her heart trembled in sympathy and grief only at the sight of Helaena: his sister had been patient, warm and affectionate caretaker towards her. They did not, however, usually exchange even a word.

There was no need: she knew that Helaena was a hostage and prisoner of her family as much as she was, and that there was nothing she could do to help her.

"I'm worried about Aemond." She said one time, handing her a towel in the bathroom.

She could have covered herself with a curtain in the bath, but Helaena needed to be in the room with her.

They wanted to be sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

She looked at her and put on the T-shirt she got from her that served as her pyjamas.

She didn't answer.

She didn't know what.

Helaena looked at her fingers, playing with them in a nervous gesture exactly as her brothers had done, all probably inheriting it from their mother.

"I caught him browsing your Instagram account one evening, couple of months ago. He was sitting in the living room with a drink and thought he was alone. He was about to do something with our grandfather. He didn't hear me come downstairs and freaked out. He turned off his app as soon as he saw me."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling a squeeze in her heart, discomfort, pain and heat ripple through her body at the thought that, contrary to what she thought, he hadn't forgotten her at all.

"I tried to help him and he took advantage of me. Forgive me, but I am no longer able to sympathise with him." She whispered, picking up her things from the floor. His sister swallowed hard, looking up at her.

"Since that night. Since our father died. Since he saw you. For a moment, something changed in him. He seemed content. Calmer than usual. He told me he was thinking of going to university part-time. I didn't know you were the one helping him with that." She muttered, stepping closer to her, looking somewhere to the side, as if distracted.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want it." She said in a trembling voice, wondering what she wanted from her, how could she think that after what he had done to her she would care about his decisions and what he chose to do.

He had mocked her, objectified her, humiliated her.

He left her with nothing, stripped her of all virtues and values.

"Our grandfather knows when to act like part of the family and when to act like a ruler. He does this to each of us. He knows our weaknesses. Our unfulfilled desires, our flaws, our complexes. He knows who among us is the most miserable, the most vulnerable. The most weak." She said, avoiding eye contact with her, looking around the room, tense.

She pressed her clothes to her chest, feeling the squeeze in her throat at her words, the sympathy and pain that showed she was no different from him.

They both were weak.

They always were, even then, during that summer.

They were sad, hopeless and small children, finding each other in the end, comforting one another with their presence.

"I can't help him anymore. He's made his decision and I'm here. I don't think there's anything more we can say to each other."

That night she couldn't sleep: he hadn't been back for a long time wherever he was, and the thought that perhaps someone had shot him or taken revenge on him didn't fill her with peace.

Despite everything she felt, she didn't want him to die.

She shuddered when she heard footsteps in the corridor and then the sound of a key turning in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep when he came inside, closing the door behind him.

She heard him pull off his jacket and shoes, trying not to make any noise, and then he came towards her, leaning over her with a quiet sigh. She swallowed hard when he gently covered her with the duvet, when his wide, warm hand combed through her hair as if she were a small child.

She was furious with herself that she felt tears under her eyelids as soon as he pulled away and lay down on the mattress, when she heard him say hello to Vhagar, who licked his fingers.

She was furious that some part of her still craved his closeness, that his touch made her feel safe, just as it had then, that summer.

The only joy in her days filled with shame and grief was Vhagar.

Her uncle's dog was gigantic and had big brown eyes. Vhagar was as distrustful as he was and did not approach her at first, but watched her closely as she lay on the floor, and when she held out her hand to her, she sniffed the air, wanting to smell her with her large, black, wet nose.

Like him, Vhagar required patience and understanding, respecting her barriers.

Eventually, however, she allowed herself to be touched, sealing her acceptance with a long, sticky lick from which her fingers were all moist. Being with her and touching her soft, warm fur was a form of therapy for her: she couldn't find comfort in his arms even though she craved it, and she knew he was dying to touch her.

However, if she broke down and let him, she would lose the remnants of her self-respect and her own dignity.

Although she tried to reject these thoughts and feelings that filled her, what she had repressed during the day came back to her in her dream: she saw her uncle lying in a pool of blood, his face cut, his eyes gouged out in revenge for what he had done to one of the men who had not paid him on time.

The scream she let out seemed inhuman to her and she didn't even know she had really let it out. She pulled herself up on the bed, terrified by the darkness and the fact that she did not recognise the room she was in when she heard something move on the floor.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" She heard his voice and looked at him with big eyes, whooping with her own tears, sobbing loudly as she felt relieved despite everything he had done to her.

He was alive.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He asked, looking at her with a sincere worry from which she felt pain in her heart, thinking in disbelief that she wanted to throw herself into his arms and cuddle up to him.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered soothingly, rising slowly, approaching her uncertainly. She lifted her shoulders up, simultaneously wanting and not wanting this.

She felt a pleasant shiver as he sat down beside her, his hand gently touching her shoulder.

She swallowed hard when he dared to put his other hand on her head and sank his face into her neck – she felt like bursting into sobs feeling his familiar scent, his familiar warmth, her body relaxing involuntarily into his embrace against her will.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –" He assured her, only to sink his face into the top of her head a moment later, stroking her shuddering body soothingly with his hands.

You've already done it, she thought with pain.

The person before whom she was most vulnerable, whom she allowed to touch her naked body, whom she allowed to be deep inside her, as intimate as possible.

She thought, feeling her body convulsing as she tried to calm her breathing, that she had nothing left.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out, surprising herself with these words that came straight from her heart.

She heard him draw in the air loudly, terrified, rocking her in his embrace as if she were a small child.

"– no – don’t say that – it won’t take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He whispered as if he thought that was what she meant.

That she just wanted to go home.

"– you broke my heart –" She said, wanting him to understand that her going back anywhere wouldn't change anything, because what he had done to her no place could fix.

She didn't really care now where she was or what was happening to her.

She felt regret towards herself that when she heard him burst out crying she involuntarily felt sympathy for him.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, his warm, full lips starting to place wet, lingering, desperate kisses on her face, wanting to somehow soften her words and what she had said, but she felt worse and worse.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

Lie.

"– I don't believe you –"

She heard him wail quietly, hugging her as tightly as if he wanted to break her bones, melt into one with her so she could never escape him again.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, and she clenched her eyes shut, herself feeling the hot tears one by one begin to run down her face.

They were just empty words that couldn't change anything.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She whined into his neck, finally saying what she had been feeling all this time, the regret, the disappointment, the terror and the emptiness she felt deep inside her flowed out of her mouth.

She was sure he was going to start denying it, saying he would make it up to her, but instead she heard his mournful cry, his kisses on her face, neck and shoulders loud, sticky, ravenous, his breath heavy and raspy, making her feel a pleasant tickle between her thighs in spite of herself.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out and she snuggled into him harder, wanting to hurt and comfort him at the same time, to reject and accept him deep inside her.

Some part of her wanted to believe him again.

She gasped, surprised to feel her nipples grow hard, to feel her warm cunt pulsate around nothing as his broad hand slid slowly under her t-shirt, trailing down her back while his swollen lips did not pull away from her bare skin.

"– I love you –" He assured her, the strokes of his hand, his wet, hot lips increasingly ambiguous and intimate, the tips of his fingers trailing down her spine, making a wonderful shiver run through her again and again, from which she finally moaned.

"– you hurt me –" She mumbled out regretfully through her tears, inhaling his scent, hating him for how good she felt with him, hating him for how much she wanted him, hating him for needing him so badly and him taking advantage of her.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, pressing her tighter to him, her lips in some subconscious, involuntary reflex brushing against his neck, tasting his sweat and his perfume.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He exhaled, their fingers clenching tighter on their bodies, proving where this was going, how much they both needed comfort, reassurance, a moment of pleasure and warmth, what only they could give each other.

She shuddered and froze when she felt his hand slide down her back to her bare buttocks, digging his fingers into them, feeling the cold sweat on her neck.

She pushed him away, panting heavily, and quickly moved away, pressing her back against the cold wall. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling her whole body quiver with desire, her cunt pulsing greedily, dripping all over from her wetness.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out, shaking her head, horrified at the effect he had on her, how easily he manipulated her.

She was a stupid idiot, exactly as Daemon had said.

Her uncle shook his head, moving closer to her, in some pathetic, helpless gesture grabbing her calves, kissing her knees as if he wanted to fall to her feet.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She asked with anger, thinking that surely that was the case, that this was just part of their plan.

She couldn't let them down, she couldn't make a fool of herself once again.

Her uncle looked at her with eyes red from tears, his face all swollen, his lips parted in a heavy, raspy breaths.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered and she shook her head, thinking she couldn't believe him.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out, herself no longer knowing what she was feeling or thinking.

She turned her face to the wall and hugged its cold structure as if she wanted to melt into it, the space between her thighs hot and wet, throbbing from the tension that filled her entire lower abdomen.

She pursed her lips into a thin line when she felt him clamp his hand on her waist, his face pressed against her back.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined pleadingly, falling into hysteria, bursting out in such a loud, pitiful, almost childish cry that she began to weep herself, not knowing what to do, where to go to escape the chaos of feelings and thoughts that were filling her head.

Although she wanted to, she couldn't push him away after those words and she let him fall asleep cuddled into her back.

The next day, lying down, staring at the wall, waiting for him to wake up, she looked between her and the bed and saw something shiny on the floor. She slipped her hand into the gap and when she caught it, she thought with a heavy beating heart that it was the blade to a small bookbinding knife.

She swallowed loudly as she grasped it in her fingers and slowly raised her hand, slipping it into her towel that lay on the chair just above her head.

He had told her that day that her mother would try to reach an agreement with them if she could see her.

She thought with disgust and shame that her mother and Daemon would have to sacrifice what was rightfully theirs because she had been stupid and naive, because she had disobeyed them, because she had shown thoughtlessness.

She decided that she would make it right.

That she would do something that would destroy Otto's entire plan and allow Daemon to keep what he wanted.

She thought that perhaps her step-father would understand that she had done this for him.

That this was her apology.

"I'd like to take a bath."

True to her assumption, her uncle was careful and removed the key from the bathroom lock, informing her that she had ten minutes, however, to her relief, he did not check her towel.

When he closed the door she quickly turned the water on, not wanting him to get suspicious, and slid the blade out of the cloth, turning it in her fingers.

This was her escape route.

Her final word.

She stepped into the tub, sinking into the pleasantly warm, crystal clear water and leaned her back against the backrest, breathing loudly, feeling fear, uncertainty and doubt.

She didn't want this, but there was no other choice.

Even if she went home, she would not escape the prison that was her heart.

She was unable to stop loving him.

This thought made her sink the blade into the skin of her wrist.

She hissed, feeling with tears in her eyes how unpleasant, rough and stinging this feeling was, uncomfortable, exactly as her feelings towards her uncle.

She smiled under her breath thinking that he would be the one to find her.

She wondered if she would break his heart in this way, just as he had broken hers.

When she did the same with her other wrist she dropped the blade on the tiles and leaned her head back, lying in peaceful silence, hearing only the hum of water around her.

She closed her eyes, imagining that she was by the sea again, with him, listening as he told her about how old and valuable the coin they had found was.

Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought that in a moment she would join that boy.

The man standing outside the door had killed him long ago.

And then she fell asleep, and though she heard someone's voice, felt someone touch her, felt someone calling her name, she could not open her eyes, feeling calm and light.

Free.

She hissed, feeling an unpleasant burning sensation in her wrists and twisted on the bed, opening her eyelids with difficulty. She felt the sun shining on her face, the familiar smell of disinfectants all around her, the quiet beeping of the machines controlling her heart rate just above her head.

She looked to the side and saw the figure of Daemon sitting in a chair, looking at her exactly as he had then, when her uncle had brought her home from Heavenly Beach.

She felt her body begin to quiver in shame and fear: even though she tried, she couldn't find the words to express what she was feeling, and although she had never called him that, at that moment something snapped inside her.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Dad – I believed him – I was only supposed to bring him the books, nothing more – I was trying to fix it –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, struggling to catch air between the successive sentences that left her mouth.

Something in her step-father's gaze changed – he swallowed hard and twisted in his seat, clenching his hands into fists.

It seemed to her that some part of him sympathised with her.

"– I know –"

Those words, though short and dispassionate, meant more to her than he could have imagined.

Although he was furious with her, and he had every right to be, he understood why she did what she did and that she believed it would help his cause.

"– you did it for me – didn't you? –" He asked, looking at her wrists.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath, feeling that her cheeks and eyelids were all swollen with tears of sadness, grief and pain.

He lowered his gaze and sighed heavily, turning his head to the side, looking towards the window.

"– don't ever do it again – your mother almost died of despair –" He said, and she nodded again, letting his large hand close over her fingers.

"– you are a naive, stupid child – but mine – you will be under my full control from now on – you will not go anywhere without me, your mother or my bodyguards – do you understand? –" He asked and she nodded, feeling shame.

He was right.

She was a naive, stupid child who someone had to watch over to make sure she didn't mess up again.

Despite her initial horror that everyone would hate her, she was welcomed home with relief and joy: she knew that to some extent this was influenced by what she had done, but at least it made everyone understand that she regretted what had happened.

"– that son of a bitch – I swear I'll kill him with my own hands –" Jace said to her, embracing her tenderly as if she were a teddy bear.

She felt pain and discomfort at the thought that some part of her wanted to ask him not to hurt her uncle.

She wondered how much of this was due to how he was manipulating her and how much was due to how she really felt about him.

She knew that Daemon, Jace and their men had declared war on Otto: every day someone died in a shootout, and she prayed she wouldn't hear his name overhearing the conversations of her father's bodyguards.

"That boy with one eye sold Larys Strong a bullet in the head. His grandfather's partner! They say he just walked into his office and shot him. He must have pissed him off pretty good." He said, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart stand up in her throat with terror.

She reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out the note he'd left her at the hospital and read its contents for the hundredth time.

I will always watch over you.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that his confession was literal.

That he had killed him for her.

Do you know who did this?

I can take care of it.

For your comfort.

Those were his words.

I can take care of it for your comfort.

She hid her face in her hands at the thought of him sinking even deeper into darkness for her, thinking that in this way he would atone for what he had done.

Daemon agreed to let her return to the University on the condition that one of his bodyguards would wait in the car the entire time she was in the building, just to make sure she didn't leave or run away.

She agreed to this out of desperation, feeling that she was descending into madness sitting at home, constantly dreaming about him.

About someone bringing them news that he was dead.

Along with the end of the semester, the entry exams for all those who wanted to get into university were also approaching.

She tried not to think about whether he was studying, whether he was going to come and try, recognising that it was just his momentary whim, an attempt to make her believe that he was capable of change.

And then she'd see his silhouette in her memory, bent over a thick tome, read through her textbooks.

She hated herself for sympathising with him.

She hated herself for wanting him to succeed.

Since then neither of them had written or spoken to each other.

Even so, the day she knew the exams were to take place had her walking around in a state of complete shock and panic all day.

"Are you alright? I'm worried about you. You look terrified." Robb said, snapping her out of her reverie.

They had been together for a few months during the past year, as they had become very close on a excavations where they had been the professor's assistants together.

His ironic sense of humour, the glint in his eye and his cheeky smile made her feel a pleasant warmth in her stomach, and when he kissed her one evening she thought there was hope for her.

That she could live a normal life.

She spent her first time with him because she trusted him and knew he was experienced. He was tender and patient with her, excited by her clearly lack of skill in this aspect, by the fact that he could lead her by the hand, show her what desire and fulfilment were.

She was grateful to him for making the loss of her virginity only a little painful for her, and beyond that she felt only pleasure.

Nevertheless, she despaired that the orgasms she experienced with him could not compare to what she felt when she herself sank her hand into her leaking womanhood, imagining that it was her uncle's fingers that was greedily invading her slit.

"– go on – after all, that's what you want – that's why you came to me, isn't it? – for your uncle to take care of you – am I wrong? –"

She had to snuggle her face into the pillow so that her siblings wouldn't hear her moan of delight and relief, while wonderful waves of warmth and pleasure shook her body, causing her to fall into a peaceful, pleasant sleep, still holding her hand between her thighs.

However, it was enough for her to wake up in the morning, and remorse, sadness and disappointment in herself made her unable to breathe or eat.

And then she saw pictures of Robb with the women he had embraced at the club, and while part of her felt pain, part of her also felt relief.

When she broke up with him, he tried to explain to her that nothing had happened, that he had forgotten himself under the influence of alcohol but that he had never, never cheated on her because he had not kissed or had sex with any of them.

She then thought sadly that she could tell him exactly the same thing, however she felt that they were both cheating on each other in some way, just not physically.

She decided that it would be better if they remained friends, and although it was hard for him to bear at first, he seemed to eventually get used to the thought.

Neither of them resented each other.

She lowered her gaze at the thought, embarrassed, not knowing what to answer him, not being able to confess the truth after all.

She was, however, tired of lying.

"My friend was supposed to take his entry exams today. But I don't know if he will. He hurt me and I'm afraid to go there." She said, looking across the corridor to the part in the building where the big auditorium was located.

"Do you want me to go with you?" He suggested, and for some unknown reason she felt grateful to him for the offer.

She nodded, and he smiled at her in a way that she remembered vividly from the moments when she thought they were happy.

When they got there, she saw that the door to the room was open, probably because of how stuffy it was in there.

"Can you see him?" Robb whispered as she leaned out, she could, however, only see the first three rows of pews and did not recognise him among any of the people.

"No. But I can't see much." She muttered.

"Well, tough. We'll wait." He sighed, leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He asked after a moment with hesitation in his voice.

"No." She mumbled, looking at her fingers in shame. Robb raised his eyebrows, stroking his chin as if something in her words comforted him.

"Oh. I see." He said, and she swallowed hard, looking away, feeling that even though she had told the truth she felt like she had lied.

The people who had finished writing the exam started to leave one by one, making her lose faith with each passing minute that he had done it at all, thinking in the back of her mind that he was sitting with his grandfather and brother right now for sure, discussing how to destroy her step-father.

He didn't have time to play University now, she thought sadly, and froze when she saw him in the doorway.

His healthy eye grew wide at the sight of her as if he had seen a ghost and he stopped in mid-motion, pale, glancing at her, then at Robb.

"Is that him?" He asked curiously, extending his hand to him. "Robb, it's a pleasure. I hope you become a student soon too."

She swallowed hard seeing that his uncle's face expressed tension and coldness, a sign that something bad was about to happen.

His gaze full of impatience fell on her again while Robb's hand continued to hang in the air, showing her that if she didn't intervene, he would speak up and she wouldn't like that.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting him to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

Robb blinked, bewildered, looking at her then at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Didn't you hear what she said?" Her uncle snarled in his direction in a way she knew was a warning.

He knew who he was, she realised suddenly with horror.

Then, when Helaena caught him looking at her Instagram account, it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

He followed her social media.

That's why he knew where he should come even though she hadn't given him her university address.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." Said Robb in a tone that betrayed that he had lost patience and she had to stand between them to keep her uncle from pushing against him, his jaw clenched in rage.

"That's enough." She said in a shaky voice.

"Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?" She asked softly with a note of mockery in her voice, from which he swallowed loudly and looked away, embarrassed, trying to control himself.

Robb hesitated, but nodded finally and left them alone, glancing at them intently over his shoulder.

"It was a mistake." She said, shaking her head, herself wanting to leave, recognising that she didn't know why she was doing it, why she cared.

"– no – no, wait –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, careful, however, not to cause her pain. His hand wrapped around her waist in a way from which she swallowed hard, his forehead pressed against her temple.

"– are you two together again? –" He asked in a trembling voice, and she involuntarily burst out laughing, ignoring the stares of the other students who were just passing them by.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She hissed, looking at him with fury, his gaze hot and pleading, full of feelings she didn't want to see.

"– do you love him? –"

She shook her head, trying to push him away, not wanting to hear it, having no intention of explaining herself to him.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, trying to pull away from him, but he closed his hands on her back, hugging his nose to her cheek like a small child seeking refuge, his eyes closed as he spoke his next words.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered.

She swallowed hard, feeling a powerful, cold shiver run down her spine, her heart starting to pound like mad in her chest making her struggle to take another breath.

He had killed for her.

He had killed a man.

God, was it possible to wash away such a sin?

To carry such a burden.

She shook her head, her brow arching in pain at the thought that she didn't want to hear it.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –" He gasped tenderly, enclosing her jaw in his hands, placing again and again warm, soft kisses on her cheek as if she were something he longed to cherish, that he adored, that he loved.

A part of her wanted to ask him if he planned to kill himself too, but those cruel words didn't leave her mouth.

When he hugged her she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to calm down in the tender embrace of his arms, feeling his soft, full lips on her cheek, neck and shoulders, his hands combing through her hair tender, close, familiar, beloved.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered and felt him freeze for a moment. He swallowed hard, placing a lingering, warm kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –" He said softly, stroking her back comfortingly as if he were a husband who had just assured his wife that they would have a child in the future.

How absurd his words were simultaneously horrified, embarrassed and endeared her.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, clasping her hands on his back, for some reason seeking help in his embrace.

He was the only person who understood what she was going through.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back, his face sinking into her temple, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She shuddered when she heard her phone ring – they moved away from each other, and when she pulled it out of her backpack it turned out to be Daemon's bodyguard.

"Your class is over, where are you? Is something wrong?"

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She mumbled out, scared that the man would start looking for her.

"– it's okay – I'll wait where I always do –" He said and hung up while she breathed a sigh of relief.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said indifferently, tucking the phone into her backpack. She felt him wanting to embrace her again, but she pushed him away, shaking her head and avoided him, unable to look at his face.

We just have to try again.

She burst out crying at the thought that some sick part of her wanted this.

"– you said he's not your boyfriend –" She heard Robb's voice behind her, standing at the entrance to the courtyard, looking at her with pain and disbelief.

She swallowed hard at the thought that he was watching them from a distance.

"– I –"

"– I thought we are friends, that we are honest with each other –" He said quickly, combing his hair with his hand in a gesture of impatience, his words making a cold, unpleasant shiver of shame shudder through her body.

He had caught her in the act, and she was like a small, weeping child who was afraid of the consequences.

"– he is not my boyfriend –"

"– are you serious? – you said he hurt you, and you almost let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor – where is your self-respect? –" He hissed and after a moment fell silent, seeing the look in her eyes, the expression on her face, hearing his own words, knowing that his last sentence was a step too far.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry I said that – I didn't –" He muttered, running his hand over his mouth.

He wanted to touch her shoulder, but she moved away from him, shaking her head, not caring that the others were looking at them from the side.

"– is there anything else you want to say? –" She asked, having the feeling that something inside her had broken once and for all, shattered into pieces like a glass vase.

Robb opened his mouth, his cheeks turning scarlet with horror and shame.

She turned tensely, heading for the exit, out of the corner of her eye noticing her uncle's face staring back at her, pale and shocked.

He heard it.

She shook her head letting him know not to follow her and ran towards the car park, thinking about how she wanted to sink to the ground and die.

As she closed the car door behind her, whooping with tears in panic, the man leaned over to look at her face, horrified.

"Are you all right?" He muttered.

"– I didn't pass the fucking exam – can we go now? –" She said with such anger and fury that the bodyguard merely nodded and started the engine, backing the car out onto the road.

She covered her face with her hands, choking and panting, trying to calm down, thinking she deserved it.

Why had she gone there?

Why did she have to see if he had come?

What did it matter?

We just had to try again.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They were both completely mad.

Maybe they had inherited it in their genes, she thought regretfully.

It wasn't until she was home at dinner, feeling Daemon's anxious gaze on her, that she thought uneasily that she had escaped the drowning ship, but had left her uncle and ex-boyfriend far too close. She felt her knee begin to pop up in a nervous reflex under the table at the thought that he might have done something to him.

Out of revenge, out of jealousy, out of whimsy.

I killed him for you.

She thought she would write to him to make sure he was okay.

But he didn't write back.

Unable to stand it, she put a second, new card in her phone, one of the hundreds her brother kept in his drawer to avoid bugging him, and called her uncle, demanding an explanation.

"What did you do to him?" She asked horrified, walking around her room as if in a trance.

"I see you have a new phone number and I have no idea what you're asking."

"Robb, Aemond. He's not writing me back."

She heard him hum on the other end, as if he was pleased with her words and the fact that whatever he had done had forced her to contact him.

"We only talked. His handsome face with brown eyes is unharmed." He said calmly, making her breathe a sigh of relief, still feeling the tension though.

"What were you two talking about?"

"It was our men's business."

"AEMOND."

"That I won't let anyone treat you like that. He doesn't know shit and meddles in matters that aren't his." He said coldly. "I gave him a warning."

For a moment there was a tension-filled silence between them, from which her heart pounded like mad.

She thought it was all some kind of pure madness, that it wasn't really happening.

"– did you threaten him? –"

She heard his loud sigh on the other side and a bark.

Vhagar.

"– I told him to treat you with respect and not to talk to other people about us if he didn't want unpleasantness – no violence, pure persuasion –"

"– manipulation – as in my case –"

"– that is not true –" He protested angrily.

"– LIAR –" She hissed and hung up, throwing her phone on the bed in a gesture full of rage.

She fell back on the bedding, sighing loudly and groaned when she saw that her display had lit up and he had sent her a new message.

She unlocked her phone reluctantly, thinking she had angered him with her words, but saw with surprise that he had sent her a picture of Vhagar.

She felt regret and a sting in her heart at the thought that involuntarily it made her smile.

What he was doing to her was so wrong, so very wrong.

So why did she feel warmth in her heart?

After a while, her phone vibrated again.

She didn't know why she laughed warmly only to burst out crying again a moment later, not understanding why he was the only one who could make her smile, the only one who could make her feel that wonderful warmth in her lower abdomen, the only one who could calm her down.

Why he was the only one she loved.

[letsgauxplay]

Yay. Triggered Zane’s!

I’ll make a tag for this ig. I still need Sylus’ huhu

[stardust-swan]

The Kind of Girl I Want To Be

Buys herself pink peonies and roses

Wears scents like Parfums De Marly Delina and Oriana, Miss Dior, YSL Paris, Prada Candy, Mon Guerlain and Chanel Chance Eau Tendre (she sprays it in the morning, after showers, and before going to bed)

Bakes heart shaped sugar cookies and macarons

Spends rainy days sipping rose tea from floral china while reading beautifully bound classic novels

Has a bookshelf filled with first edition poetry books, gilded editions of fairytale books, volumes of the Little Books of Fashion series, leatherbound classics, and Harlequin romance novels

Drinks peppermint tea in the morning and camomile tea at night

Sleeps on pink silk sheets and has a satin kimono robe

Plays Brigitte Bardot, classical music, and soft jazz in the background

Takes ballates or yogalates classes

Plays the violin or cello

Watches Audrey Hepburn and Anna Karina films

Adds sweet almond oil and rose bath tea to her vanilla bubble bath

Has a seasonal pass to the ballet and regularly visits the theatre, old bookshops, botanical gardens, and art galleries

Keeps things like French Girl lip tints/Glossier lip balms/Too Faced lip glosses, a hand mirror, a comb, some bonbons, a book, a rollerball of perfume, hand cream, a piece of rose quartz, a scrunchie, a nail file, spray on SPF and bubblegum in her bag at all times

Is always up to date with Fashion Week

Writes in her diary daily in swirly writing using coloured gel pens, pressing flowers between the pages and spraying perfume samples on it

Lights Yankee Candle Fresh Cut Roses or Rainbow Cookie, keeps soap and lavender in her wardrobe, and has vanilla diffusers around the house

Lives in a cosy home filled with beautiful things, like paintings by local artists, lots of cushions and throws, soft lighting from salt lamps and fairy lights, potted herbs and succulents, vintage vases filled with floral arrangements, DIY macramé and embroidery projects, a bowl of different crystals, signature Barbies on a shelf, rattan furniture, fluffy towels in white, pink, baby blue, and lavender, pink Dove or rose Roger et Gallet soap and Jurlique rose hand cream on the bathroom sink, pictures of her loved ones in antique frames, floral patterns everywhere, antique mirrors, and beautiful porcelain teasets

Goes to French cafés to enjoy a vanilla oat latte with a millefeuille or almond croissant

Always wears diamond or pearl earrings (often paired with a charm bracelet or gold heart locket)

Enjoys rosé wine, champagne, and strawberry daiquiris at lunchtime occasionally

Snacks on strawberries, sugared almonds, dried fruit and nuts, and Turkish Delight

Applies powder, rosy blush, lipgloss, and puts ribbons in her hair at her vanity table, which is decorated with a ballerina music box, vintage perfume bottles, and trinkets shaped like swans, angels and shepherdesses

Has her morning and evening routines down pat: waking up to melodic music, opening the windows, making the bed, doing gentle yoga, simple skincare, getting dressed, applying makeup, and eating a simple but delicious breakfast in the morning, and having a warm shower, doing more decadent skincare, putting on comfy cotton or satin pyjamas, journalling, enjoying a calming cup of herbal tea, reading, looking out the window at the moon, and falling asleep to relaxing sounds like ocean waves, gentle rainfall, and white noise at night. Her life runs like clockwork.

Is gentle, sweet, romantic, and full of love to give

[supernovafics]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff

summary: in which steve’s parents are out of town for the weekend so you and him decide to have a barbecue at his house

author's note: i’ve been in a bit of rut with this universe/series lately so i wanted to just write something short and fun for these two<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summer 1986

It was probably obvious that both you and Steve didn’t need to go inside to grab the buns and ketchup— that was definitely just a one-person job— but nobody questioned either of you as you headed inside to the kitchen. 

The kids were swimming in the pool, and everyone else was sitting around the patio table. You were pretty sure that Eddie was about to start an impromptu game of truth or dare that Robin seemed enthused about, but Nancy and Jonathan seemed the opposite. All in all, it was safe to say that no one was really paying attention to you or Steve right then.

His arms were circling around you from behind right as the door fell shut behind you both. 

You let out a soft laugh at the abrupt action, but still immediately leaned into his touch. “I’m starting to think that you didn’t wanna come in here just to grab the stuff for the burgers.” 

“Yes, I’ll admit that I had an ulterior motive,” His mouth brushed right against your ear and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “It’s just been really hard to keep my hands to myself for the past few hours— especially seeing you in this bathing suit— and I wanted us to finally be alone for a second.”

Everyone knew about you and Steve, and they had for months at this point, but you both still liked to try and keep the PDA in front of your friends to a minimum. Mainly because of the collective playful groan in disgust you two would receive whenever you kissed for a second longer than was considered decent or when you’d get a bit too handsy with one another in front of everyone. 

That didn’t mean that it was easy to not be so outwardly affectionate with each other. And you knew that if it hadn’t been Steve coaxing you into the kitchen, away from everyone else to steal a kiss or more right then, it probably would’ve been you doing it. 

You shifted around to face him and the towel that you had draped around your shoulders slipped off as your arms came up to rest on his bare shoulders and then circle his neck. 

“I’ve had this bathing suit for practically forever.” 

“Yes, and probably every time I’ve seen you in it, I’ve almost exploded.”

You playfully rolled your eyes but still smiled. “That’s definitely not true.”  

“It’s very true,” He told you as he guided you backward so that you were pressed up against the counter. “We may have been just friends back then, but I wasn’t blind to how hot you are.” 

You could feel your face warm at his words and you only smiled wider at him. “You’re very, very hot too.”

The sound of everyone talking and laughing outside faded away when Steve’s head dipped down a bit and his lips slotted against yours. His hands found your hips, fingers pressing into the exposed skin. He quickly lifted you onto the counter, which made you let out a surprised yelp against his mouth, but you didn’t pull away from him. Your fingers carded through his damp hair and any thought of getting what you were supposed to grab from the kitchen was long forgotten. 

Even the thought of what was happening outside slipped from your mind— the barbecue that Steve had suggested doing as a celebration of sorts because Summer had just started, the kids finished their first year of high school, and everyone else had graduated just a few days ago. 

You weren’t thinking about that or the fact that it was the first weekend of many that his parents would be gone for the Summer, so days like this would definitely be happening more often than not. 

All you could focus on was Steve’s mouth on yours and his fingers beginning to teasingly slip inside the waistband of your red and white bathing suit bottoms; he so easily turned your mind into a pile of mush. You let out a soft sound that only egged him on further and you were certain that he would’ve pulled the damp fabric right off of you if it wasn’t for the sound of the door that led to the backyard opening. 

You were detaching from each other immediately and you hopped off the counter, quickly reaching down to grab your towel that had fallen and place it back around your shoulders. 

Max squinted at you both for a second and then she shook her head. “Ew, I don’t even wanna know what you two were just doing.”

“We’re just grabbing the buns and ketchup,” Steve said with a quick shrug and you simply nodded in agreement. 

“Mhm, yeah, right,” She deadpanned before heading off in the direction of the bathroom. 

You stepped away from Steve and went into the pantry to finally grab the hamburger buns and ketchup. 

“Do your parents come back tomorrow or Monday?”

“Monday.”

“Okay, that gives us more than enough time to clean up then,” You said as you turned back to face him and handed over the ketchup. “Because this place will probably be a mess after everyone stays over tonight.”

“Very true,” He nodded. “Y’know, I’m just realizing that we’ve never… done anything in my old room.”

He didn’t outwardly say what he meant, but you read through the lines pretty easily. 

“And we definitely aren’t going to do anything tonight,” You told him with a shake of your head. “You’re way too loud for that.”

He softly laughed. “I think that’s all you.” 

In all honesty, it was probably equal, but you didn’t want to admit that right then. 

Steve leaned in to kiss you but you turned your head at the last second so his lips grazed your cheek instead. 

“Come on, we need to head back outside,” You told him, but before you made it anywhere near the door, he placed the ketchup on the kitchen counter and pulled you back toward him again. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his eagerness. “Steve.”

He placed the sweetest kiss against your neck and then your cheek. “Just one more second.”

That was a complete lie and you were certain of it; one second, one minute, one anything, always turned into much, much longer. But you still felt yourself finally nodding at him anyway. 

“Okay,” You mumbled, maneuvering around to face him which made your towel fall again. He didn’t waste a second to lean in and kiss you, and his hands quickly found your waist, softly stroking the parts of your skin that your bathing suit didn’t cover. Your free hand went up to the nape of his neck so that you could push yourself closer to him; chest to chest, skin against skin. 

You had a feeling that he was going to lead you over to the counter again and lift you back onto it, and then settle himself between your spread legs again for the time being— which would completely go against his “one more second” statement, but you honestly would’ve been fine with that. 

But then, you heard the bathroom door down the hall open and then shut and you two were abruptly pulling away from each other again. 

“Okay, we actually need to head back outside,” You told him as you reached down to grab your towel. 

“Fine, fine,” Steve said and started following you out the door. He helped you adjust your towel back over your shoulders and then placed the quickest, and probably most chaste, kiss against your cheek. Still, though, you felt your heart warm at the action and you were smiling widely at him. 

“Hey, lovebirds, truth or dare?” Eddie asked as you and Steve headed over to the patio table. 

You shrugged as you placed the buns down. “I don’t know, truth, I guess.”

“What were you two just doing in the kitchen?” He asked, the tiniest of a smirk on his face. 

You hesitated for a second— a second that actually felt like so much longer— before responding. “Oh, um, we were grabbing the ketchup and buns for the burgers, duh.” 

Steve nodded. “Yup.”

Eddie shook his head, laughing a bit. “Horrible, horrible liars. Where’s the ketchup?”

You turned to Steve— because you remembered that you had handed the ketchup to him when you were back inside— and immediately noticed his empty hands. “Steve.”

“Shit, my bad.”

Seconds later, Max was emerging from the house, bottle of ketchup in hand. “You guys forgot this.” 

She placed it on the table and then headed back over to the pool. 

“So, the question still stands,” Eddie said. “What were you two doing in there?” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw, again. (series masterlist)

cw: 3.5k words, fluff, light angst-adjacent content but really just more pining, brief smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, suggestions of dubcon, fem reader, i make you think abt seb in a towel again 😵‍💫 request

a/n: sorry for teasin' xx laney

The same annoying tendril of hair fell in her eye for the hundredth time that hour. She huffed hard in frustration and slapped it (and her own face, a bit) away, looking back down at the mostly-blank roll of parchment in front of her. The essay would not write itself, no matter how long she spent procrastinating by looking for and through any library books that would tell her how to get the essay to write itself. History of Magic was a special torture unlike any other. Might be best to pull out the old “dugbog ate my essay” routine on the impassive Professor Binns.

Besides, even if she had wanted to wax on about the Balkan Wizarding Summit of 1678 for several pages, she wouldn’t have been able to. Not with the thoughts that had been occupying the entirety of her brain since that fateful night two weeks ago. The night she kept finding herself returning to whenever her head hit her pillow, or whenever she had a quiet, absent moment brewing Wiggenweld in Potions, or whenever she walked or thought or breathed. The night when she’d witnessed her dear old chum Sebastian dripping wet out of the bath, water running down every line of his tanned and lightly freckled torso right to the top of a towel that was slung low on hips boasting a noticeable “V”, hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The sight had floored her in such an unexpected way that a hysterical giggle had popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she saw Sebastian’s jaw tick in annoyance. 

As she’d walked away from the encounter, she had tried with all her might to pretend it hadn’t happened. It was funny, really, a silly and awkward little moment between two friends. That was all.

That was all, she’d reminded herself the next morning, brushing her teeth after a night of tossing and turning and peering at her puffy face in the bathroom mirror.

No great ordeal, she’d chastised her active imagination as she hopped on her broom and did a few laps around the Quidditch fields, hoping the bitter cold air would jolt her back to her senses.

And he probably doesn’t even remember it, she reasoned with herself every night while she closed the curtains around her bed, cast a silencing charm, and pulled her nightgown up around her waist. Sebastian had never been something to look at like that before, so why was she whining out his name every night, a hand that she desperately wished was his stuffed inside her underwear. 

This was Sebastian, she was dreaming about, after all. Her birdie, her inquisitive and acerbic classmate who seemed to need to know everything about her and whose laugh devolved into fits of snorting whenever he saw someone trip. And it wasn’t as if she’d seen him in the full nude; why was the sight of his bare chest and back sending her into such fits of ecstasy? It felt ridiculous, yet logic rarely won out over the way her heart pounded painfully whenever he made eye contact with her now.

Two days after the incident, they’d met in their usual seats in Transfiguration, and Sebastian had immediately broken the tension she was sure existed by bluntly saying, “I’m going to keep all my clothes on this time, I swear,” as she sat down beside him. She could feel red shame creeping up the back of her neck and prayed it wasn’t appearing over the top of her robes. 

“Good, I nearly had to go to the hospital wing and get my eyes removed after that,” she had sniffed in return, but both of them grinned and settled into their old routine of passing notes and coughing loudly whenever Ominis had to answer a question. For reasons unclear, it drove him mad.

Everything gradually fell back to normal, though she found that she could no longer use her affectionate nickname for him. She’d tried, once, when Sebastian had been pestering her for information on the Arithmancy exam she’d taken earlier in the day and that he was now staring down the barrel of. The stress had him grabbing at handfuls of his hair so they stuck out like he’d been hit with a blasting curse, and he’d begged for every detail she could remember, until she finally spluttered, “Questions, questions, questions! Leave me alone and go study yourself, birdie!” 

His mouth had clamped shut. Rare. Too rare. 

He had seemed so uncomfortable after that, shifting around in his chair so much and eventually getting to his feet and leaving with a weak joke, that she’d made up her mind never to call him birdie again. Clearly, he had lost his preference for it after their nighttime encounter, probably assuming condescension on her part. Nothing could be further than the truth; she just adored his incessant chirping so much that she wished she could carry him around on her finger all day. 

Whatever his thoughts on the matter were, something small had shifted between them that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. As the empty parchment roll looked glumly back at her in the dim candlelight of the library, she decided that she had had enough working for one day and slammed the tome in front of her shut. Dust flew everywhere and she spat it out of her mouth with disdain.

Trudging along to the Great Hall to see if there were any scraps of dinner still left, she considered a few other interactions with Sebastian and deemed them perfectly normal. The nickname was what seemed to set him off. Oh well, she sighed. Probably best that I don’t have a pet name for the man I can’t stop picturing naked, anyway.

Ominis and Sebastian were seated across from each other at the Slytherin table, and after passing by her own house table to snag a plate of shepherd’s pie and a small dessert, she sat down beside Sebastian and asked him how the Arithmancy exam had gone after all.

He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, his upper lip curling and head thrown back to expose his long neck. Her stomach swirled and she set the fork that had been on its way to her mouth back down. This man now made her lose all sense of reason. Her body was reacting in ways she wasn’t even familiar with now, all because of one stupid towel. “Oh, please don’t ask. I’ll be surprised if they even let me take my NEWT in Arithmancy. Horrendous.” 

She tried to pull herself together and respond as normal friends normally do. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You always do wonderfully on exams and beat yourself up far more than you should,” she murmured evenly, picking at the pie. She turned to the man who looked far more appetizing. 

“Well, someone needs to,” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and resting his head on his hand as he looked at her. Ominis rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“The ego on you,” he sighed, scraping the last bit of chocolate torte on his plate onto his fork. “Surprised your head doesn’t weigh down the rest of your body.” “It’s balanced out by the monster I’ve got down here,” Sebastian grinned like a devil and patted his upper thigh.

It’s a joke, it’s a joke, it’s a stupid joke made by a dumb boy with an ugly face and no sense of humor, it’s a joke. The mantra rattled around in her head for a few good seconds then drifted out her ears as she abandoned it in favor of considering what it might look like if he wasn’t joking. It was very unhelpful. 

She cleared her throat and pushed the shepherd’s pie away from her, replacing it with the dessert instead. It wasn’t until she scooped up a piece and brought it up to her mouth that her distracted brain realized what it was.

“Ah, my favorite again. Finally,” Sebastian said, and then he was leaning over her, hand resting on the top of her leg to steady himself as he intercepted the piece of cherry tart and pulled it off her fork with his teeth before she could eat it herself. Everything inside her shut down. Her mouth hung agape as she watched him hum in rapturous delight and chew the tart. He gave the top of her leg a swat and said, “All yours now. I’ve already had three.”

Words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t come. Only the sensation of his large, warm hand pressing into her leg and the proximity of his face to hers as he’d stolen the bite existed. She had been able to smell whatever scent he wore, and it was something like pine needles and black pepper, although maybe that was just residual from a Herbology class. Even after he’d made a parting joke and climbed to his feet, Ominis and him exiting the hall engaged in a discussion of Quidditch prospects, the scent filled her nose and drove her light-headed. 

Having a massive, soul-sucking crush on your friend was not for the faint of heart, she decided, as she pushed the tart away, too, and left for her dormitory. Her insides were wound so tight she was worried they would snap, and her panties were so covered in slick by the time she reached her empty bedroom that she stripped down and tugged on her dressing gown. A bath, she needed a nice, hot bath to wash away the grime of her thoughts.

The dressing gown’s thin material slipped off her shoulders as she gathered clean pajamas and braided her hair up and off her neck, and she grunted with annoyance. She had really appreciated the gift of the robe, a hand-me-down from Poppy, but the aged and stretched cotton would not stay up on either of their shoulders. She tied the belt as tight as she could around her waist and slipped out of the dormitory, making her way through the sea of students sweating over homework and revisions in the common room.

The prefects’ bathroom sounded heavenly, especially as the cold stone floor of the castle bit through her thin slippers and the passing of a careless ghost’s cloak through her right shoulder left her shivering. She ambled up stairs and down them, through corridors, and used more than one hidden passage, old hat to her at this point, until she ended up in the faculty tower. Only a few more flights separated her and warm, soapy relief from the thoughts of Sebastian plaguing her. 

It wasn’t terribly late yet, and a couple Ravenclaw students mingled on the landing just below the bathrooms. They waved at her and she waved back, their names escaping her but giving them a jovial smile all the same. Beginning her final ascent, she watched the steps in front of her and tried to recall where she knew their faces from. She was still racking her brain for their identities when she ran into a wall.

“Ugh!” she cried, irritated that she had been jostled out of her thoughts by the unyielding stone. Then the stone did yield and she looked up, startled.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” Sebastian said with raised eyebrows. He stood on the step above her, wearing dark blue pajamas, a towel slung over his shoulder and wet hair carefully parted and combed. Even fully-clothed, he took her breath away. As usual. A small knick under his jaw told her he’d cut himself shaving, and she wished with everything inside her that she could kiss the tiny cut. Not really friendship behavior, though.

She tried to clear her throat, searching for something witty to say in return. “No,” was what she finally came up with. “We can’t.” 

“Prefects’ bathroom is superior, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm.”

“Aren’t you glad to see I remembered these this time?” He plucked at the pinstripe pajama pants. 

No. “Yes, I certainly am.”

“Are you going to bed straight after?”

“I think so.”

“What time are you getting breakfast?”

“Is that enough questions yet?!” She spluttered, feeling her nerves recede a bit as his chirping tickled her. He smiled broadly.

“What else can you expect from your b-birdie?” He tripped over the last word and his smile faltered. Something unchecked in her chest stirred. Sebastian Sallow did not trip over his words. He picked each one carefully and considered the potential outcomes they would elicit in every situation. Why was this one ridiculous little pet name causing the both of them so much awkwardness?

She opened her mouth to try and tell him that she expected nothing less, but stopped when she saw his hazel eyes suddenly widen and travel down from her face to her chest. Before she had time to be confused, she realized that her shoulders were suddenly freezing and goosebumps had broken out over her clavicle. The damned dressing gown had once again slipped down, nearly to her elbows, and couldn’t pull it back up fast enough. A large swathe of her chest had been exposed, and despite the cold, heat flared in her sternum and rose up her neck to her face as she yanked the gown up and clutched it closed at her neck. 

“Fuck off, it was an accident,” she hissed without thinking when Sebastian’s eyes did not return to their normal size. Humiliation was seeping into her bones, settling there like a disease that no healer could cure. Things had just returned to normal, (well, as normal as they could get now that she could think of little else than Sebastian’s body), and now they were having a repeat performance. Whatever god was orchestrating this rigamarole had a cruel spirit indeed. 

“I-I know,” Sebastian stammered. Ever the charming Slytherin, he recovered himself quickly and added, “Hey, we’re even now. You saw me and I saw–nothing!” He turned course mid-sentence and threw his hands up in a defensive pose when she glared at him. He really never knew when the right and wrong times to make a joke were.

“Just…good night!” She all but snapped, brushing past him and up the rest of the stairs, not bothering to look back at him as she jogged towards the bathroom door. The prefect standing sentry outside waved her in and she bolted for the women’s baths. 

How fucking humiliating could life get? Like a silly, love-drunk girl, she had developed some very confusing and sinful feelings for Sebastian, all because she’d seen him a little bit wet. Granted, his tanned skin had been shining under the droplets of water, and his back was taut and muscular from years of bludger-beating, and his legs were long enough to make her lose her way, and gods, what on earth had that thin, grey towel been concealing…

As she sunk into the steaming bath and mounds of bubbles, she let out one final wail of lament for her dignity before plunging underwater.

Her dreams that night reached a new summit of horror.

First, she was lost in a maze of hallways. They weren’t Hogwarts hallways, but she knew she was running late for an exam all the same. Every corner she rounded and door she opened displayed empty rooms and brick walls. Time ticked past at an extraordinary pace, the exam start time creeping steadily nearer but her destination refused to show itself, despite her panicked sprinting. When she finally found herself in something resembling a classroom, fifty students crouched over individual desks and scribbling away, she felt a momentary wash of relief. 

Then, a hand was wrapping itself around her leg and she was screaming. The hand yanked her backwards out of the classroom and down the hall, the room fading from her view as her unseen kidnapper pulled her at an impossible pace. A bright flash of light and she felt the hand unwrap from her calf and something retreat into the darkness. Sebastian was suddenly in front of her, taking her head in his hands and murmuring something she couldn’t make out. He seemed to be concerned about her, but all she could feel was his warmth and safety and she felt herself tumbling into his lake-hazel eyes. 

They were kissing before she could figure out why the exam didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Oh, God, sweetheart,” Sebastian was rasping as he pulled his lips away, face hazy with want. She whined and tugged him back to her, and she found herself in a location she couldn’t quite make out in the semi-darkness, but her back was pressed against something more comfortable than the marble hallway floors that Sebastian had rescued her from. 

He was slotting a leg in between hers and kneading it gently around. Her body felt vaguely light and floaty, a new breed of arousal building as she bumped herself against his leg and pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Seb,” she gasped, but he was already gone, pulling her dressing gown–goddamn that dressing gown, haunting her even here!–down and ripping it off entirely so she was exposed to him. Dream Sebastian had longer hair. It curled slightly around his ears and brushed the bottom of his neck, tickling her when he leaned back down to kiss her neck with hot, wet lips. 

She would later admit that she quite preferred the power she held in the realm of her subconscious to the power she held in reality; perhaps wielding ancient magic was a benefit for some, but willing Sebastian’s clothes away and feeling the all-too-real heat of him pressed against her naked body gave her more of a thrill than she ever could have summoned.

In an instant, she found him sunk between her legs, hot mouth ghosting over her weeping heat and then delving into it. She shrieked, letting it dissolve into a moan as his tongue swirled around her clit and he sucked it into a gentle kiss. Her hands dug into his sandy brown hair, using the extra length to her advantage and tugging. Why was it so long?

"You taste so divine, I knew it," he was groaning. "Better than any fucking tart."

Time was strange. They stayed wrapped in each other for a year and a minute simultaneously, and then he was fucking her with a savage gentleness that made her weep. His slow, hard movements were almost cruel in their sweetness. And she even managed to notice, through her daze, that his cock was just as he'd promised, its thickness splitting her open and making her eyes roll back in her head.

He was panting, his words once more indiscernible but seemingly lust-fueled. The sensation of his cock pushing into her made her body, small under his powerful frame, shake. Using his defined abdomen, he pushed himself up as he continued fucking her and cried, “Shit, baby, come for me! I’m all fucking yours.”

Her orgasm gained ground and was cresting high and wide when he added, “Let me see you cry when you come real pretty, please? Hm? Come on, I’ll be a good little birdie, I swear.”

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a huge breath of air, chest heaving, her sheets wrapped around and clinging to her sweat-ridden body. She was positively drenched, both outwardly and inwardly, and the rising frustration when she realized that she was very much alone in her bed and that the dream was slipping through the cracks in her memory like water made her roll over, stuff her face into her pillow, and scream.

Ominis thought about what a wonderful friend he was for putting up with that disorganized slob Sallow as he dug through the disorganized slob’s school bag for a new bottle of ink. When he had run out in the middle of his homework, Sebastian had absently waved him upstairs to the bedroom and told him to grab a fresh bottle from his bag, his gaze never leaving the teetering tower of shortbread he was building. 

“What a prince,” Ominis grunted to himself, feeling around for anything glass and instead receiving several paper cuts from the loose pages Sebastian kept stuffed away, in case he was ever caught needing garbage. His slim hand closed around a small bottle and he smiled in triumph, eager to be done with his spelunking expedition. As he yanked the bottle through the layers of debris in the bag, the force required caused him to stumble backwards, just a step, and into Sebastian’s nightstand. Something thudded onto the floor and Ominis bent to sweep his hands over the floor and find it.

A book, hardcover, without rips or tears to indicate its age. Ominis picked it up and felt around the cover, curious to see what nighttime reading his friend was doing, and curious to see if it happened to be his first voluntary non-Quidditch-related read. The embossed letters on the front were so shiny and slick that he found it hard to make out the title using just his touch, so Ominis pulled his wand from his pocket and held it over the book, words coming into clearer focus in his mind’s eye. 

Legilimency and the Dreamer, the book proclaimed. A subtitle at the bottom of the cover read: “Infiltrating the sleeping mind, for the beginner.”

Ominis snorted and threw the book back on Sebastian’s night stand, wondering whom it actually belonged to. Definitely not Sallow's.

pt. 3

masterlist

[skzdarlings]

03. sharing a bed series ; skz ; changbin

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 3/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: changbin/reader content info: explicitly plus size reader. sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. lingerie. teasing. reading and watching porn. a bit of spanking. not so much choking but throat-holding. penetrative sex.

;)

-

Oh god, you think, staring at your suitcase full of lingerie, what the fuck do I do?

You like beautiful things and you love lingerie.  Your suitcase is brimming with pretty nighties and delicate babydolls, a luxury indulged for your own sake but completely inappropriate given the circumstances. 

You thought you would have your own hotel room this holiday, but after a few friends dropped out of the trip, there was some last minute shuffling, and now—

“Yah! Where’s my toothbrush?”     

Changbin is your hotel roommate for the weekend.  Just you, him, and a single king-sized bed. 

Oh, and your suitcase full of lingerie. 

You slam the luggage shut, spinning around to look at him as he emerges from the bathroom in a frantic state of his own. 

It takes a second to register his question, your eyes wide as you look him over from head to toe.  His dark hair is damp from a shower and he is wearing nothing but a bath towel.  He holds it shut at his hip, a sturdy thigh flashing when the towel parts.  His body is one mouth-watering slab of big, broad bulk, and you find yourself clutching your own ample chest as if that will stop your heart from stampeding out. 

“Ah, there,” Changbin says, strutting past you.  Absent-mindedly, he says, “I’m almost done, then you can shower.” 

The few minutes it will take him to brush his teeth will not be enough for you.  Your efforts to find suitable sleepwear are completely futile.  In the end, you settle on the simplest nightie with the fullest body, even if it is a bit transparent. 

You take your turn in the bathroom after him.   When it comes time to change, you slip into the nightie and stare agape at your own reflection. 

Oh god, you think.  This is a disaster. 

This is your most conversative piece and it is still wildly sexy.  You love your bigger body and you love dressing to accentuate its features, and this piece is no exception.  Full thighs and fuller breasts and full curves spill up and over the tighter places.  The little panties are swallowed up by your plushy ass and no matter how much you adjust the neck of the nightie, it continues to fall in the most suggestive way possible. 

You look hot.  If anyone else was waiting for you in that hotel bed, you would be fine.   But it’s Changbin.  Your close friend Changbin.  Your close, hot, loud, insane, sexy, confident, drool-worthy, muscle pig friend Changbin. 

You sigh, resigned to your fate.  There is nothing more you can do. 

You pop open the bathroom door and stick your head around the corner.  Changbin is lounging in bed, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, an arm thrown over his head as he watches something on his phone.   His hair has dried fluffy and he is smiling at whatever he’s watching.

“Changbin,” you say.  “Close your eyes.” 

He does the opposite, like the stupid hot dummy he is, looking up at you.  You get a swoop in your gut just from his curious glance, his messy hair, the comfort he radiates laying in your shared bed.   It really is unfair how he is a hundred different styles of sexy at once.  This is the same guy who was working out shirtless on the beach lawn just an hour ago, the same guy who showed up to dinner in designer glasses and a form-fitting jumpsuit, the same guy who was cuddling you in a hammock wearing a big hoodie and board shorts.  Surely he could try and have the decency to look bad at least once.    

“I said close!” you repeat. 

“Ah! What!”  He does it, even if he is confused, lowering his arm and covering his eyes.  “There!  Stop yelling at me!”

“You’re yelling, not me!”

“I’m not yelling!”

You are both yelling.  But his eyes are closed so you make a mad dash for your luggage, tossing your day clothes haphazardly with a little wince for the mistreatment of your pretty things.  But you need to be fast, shoving your clothes in your suitcase so you can dive under the covers before Changbin inevitably gets bored and—

“What are you wearing?” Changbin says. 

“Changbiiiin!”  You turn around with a furious scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.  “I told you to close your eyes!”

“What, forever?  I thought we were done!”

“Well, we’re not!  Close them!”

“But I already—”

“Close!”

He grumbles a curse to himself but closes his eyes, laying back with his arms stubbornly crossed.  You turn away to zip your luggage, shaking your head.  You also fight down a giggle, one bubbling up from the tiniest bit of delight caused by Changbin’s dropped jaw and wide eyes as he thoroughly drank in the sight of you.   

You turn around to find him peeking, one eye open.  He is one second too late closing it again. 

“I saw that,” you say.

“Saw what?” he says.  “I missed it.  My eyes are closed.”

“Uh-huh.”  You walk up to the bed and fold back the covers, eyes on him the whole time.  You put your hands on your hips when he cracks open one eye again.   “Pervert,” you say, with a snort of amusement.

“Me?”  He opens both eyes and gestures wildly.  “Look what you’re wearing!  How am I the pervert?” 

“You’re in boy lingerie so be quiet.”

“What!”   

“The grey sweatpants with the dick print.”  You point to his lap.  “Boy lingerie.”   

“Ahhh! Ah! Hey!  Have some principles.  That’s reverse sexism.  You should be ashamed of yourself.”  He wags a scolding finger you at you.  Then, for good measure, he grabs a pillow and puts it in his lap.  “Stop objectifying me.”   

You laugh in spite of yourself, climbing onto the bed.   You put a comforting hand on his shoulder.   

“I thought I was sleeping alone,” you say.  “I’m sorry.  If you have a big shirt I can sleep in, I don’t mind changing.” 

“You wearing that,” Changbin says, giving you a very thoughtful once-over that makes your whole body tingle, “or you wearing my shirt.”  He lifts the pillow and looks under it.  “What do you think?” he says, as if consulting his dick. 

“You’re so stupid!”  You hate how much you are laughing at this goofball.  You roll your eyes even while giggling.  “I’m going to sleep.  Have a fun conversation with your little friend.”

“Ah! He’s not little,” Changbin says, as if very offended.  “He’s average height and girthy, like me.”

“Nice try but you’re not average height and ew, oh my god, don’t say girthy.” 

“Girthy.”      

“I can’t hear you,” you say, sliding under the covers.  You pull them up to your chin and lay on your side with your back to him.  “I’m already sleeping,” you say. 

“How am I supposed to sleep now!” he says.   

“That’s not my problem!”

He grumbles some more while you snicker.  Eventually he turns off the light and gets under the covers too.  You both go on your phones, the little white lights illuminating the bed.  You glance over your shoulder to see him laying with his back to you, watching videos on mute.  You turn back to your phone and open your reading app, deciding you can squeeze in a chapter or two of your current romance. 

You are reading about the latest duke’s pulsating member and his lady’s quivering thighs when Changbin turns over.  You are too slow hiding your phone.   

“Are you reading porn?” he asks, reaching out and snatching your phone. 

“It’s not porn!”  You sit up to grab it back but he holds it away.  “It’s literature!”

“It’s porn,” he says, bursting into peels of giggles that should be ridiculous coming out of that buff body, but they only make you laugh too.

“Changbiiiin,” you whine through your own laughter, rolling half on top of him to try and grab your phone.  “Give it baaaack.  It’s not porn.” 

“He throbbed as pleasure conquered his senses and ERUPTED LIKE A FORCE OF VOLCANIC NATURE—!”       

“Stooooop!”

“That sounds painful,” Changbin muses. 

You finally snatch your phone back and promptly toss it off the bed.  It lands with a little thump.  

Changbin is laying on his back and giggling like a child, poorly stifled teeheehees that do not relent even when you lean over him with your most intimidating face.   

“That’s not fair,” you say.  “You have to show me yours now.” 

That gets him to look at you with surprise, tilting his head.  You do not miss when his eyes go to your chest, especially because it lingers there for a very long moment.  He touches his bottom lip, flicking his tongue over his thumb absently before finally meeting your gaze. 

“What?” he says.  “Did you say something?” 

“Show me your porn,” you say. 

“My—what!  Get down.”  He bats you away and crosses his arms.  “I will remind you I am a man of principle.  I have convictions.  Unlike you, I don’t keep demeaning pornographic content on hand at all times.  I have too much respect for the human form and the sanctity of intimacy and lovemaking.”  

You blink at him.

“Fine,” he says, and picks up his phone.  “Don’t blame me for any volcanic eruptions.” 

Once he has his bookmarks open, you take his phone and roll over, ignoring his protests.  You hold the phone out and click a link at random, even with him pressed right up against your back as he tries to steal it back.  You wriggle in his lap, making him squeak, either because your ass is pushing at his junk, or because of the video that opens. 

“Oh my,” you say.  

It’s a point-of-view video, a man’s hand sliding down a very soft, curvy body.  Your own body perks with interest when his thumb glides down her wet pussy, teasing her lips apart before sliding inside.  Changbin makes a strangled noise that you hardly register, staring as the man in the video slowly fingerfucks the woman, a woman not unlike you in proportion and general appearance. 

“I can explain—ah, hey! Why are you skipping?”  Changbin’s somewhat embarrassed tone shifts midsentence to indignation as you tap to fast forward.   

“I wanna get to the good part!”

“The good—?  Yah! You’re so impatient!” 

You ignore him, fast forwarding until you see a dick then letting it play. 

Changbin has given up on trying to get his phone back.  He makes a sound of miserable defeat and thunks his forehead against the back of your head.  You bite your bottom lip, flushed from head to toe, your thighs especially squirmy as need gathers between them.   You watch the woman in the video turn over until she is on all fours.  The man pushes inside her and you watch the way her body moves when he thrusts deeply.  His hand comes down in a sharp slap, making you twitch with wanting.

“I like that,” you say, aware of Changbin growing hard against your backside.   You feel him twitch at your comment.   When you skip ahead in the video again, he doesn’t speak.  You stop when the man wraps his hand around the woman’s throat and you smile.  “Like that too.”  

He is rock hard against your ass.  Either he thinks staying still means you can’t feel it or he wants you to feel it.  Testing, you grind slowly against him. 

He grabs your hip through the blankets. 

“Ah, you.���  He squeezes your hip.  “No teasing.” 

“No?” you ask, wriggling just a little more.  “None at all?” 

There is a brief pause, then he slides his hand under the covers to hold your waist directly.  It is a slow, questioning motion, leaving you time to refuse.   When you don’t, he slides his hand down to stroke your thigh. 

You put his phone aside, the screen going dark, its contents forgotten as you turn your head.   He slips one arm under you, his hand cupping a breast at the same time his other hand goes between your legs.  When he kisses you, you open your mouth to immediately deepen it.  He does, licking at you and sucking your bottom lip, grinding in a slow circle against you.   It makes you ache, squirming in his strong embrace, his fingers only just hovering where you need him. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says when you start bucking and whining into his kiss.  He kisses you too deeply for you to protest his teasing, but then he finally hooks his fingers in your panties to draw them to the side. 

You get dizzy, either from kissing more than breathing or just his overwhelming presence.  When he touches you and feels how wet you already are, he makes a low sound and curses. 

“Ch—Changbin,” you say, breathy and a little senseless already.  “Please.” 

He moves swiftly, manhandling you with ease and care.  You turn over and he pushes the blankets away to get up behind you.  You whimper into the sheets when he tugs you into a better position, then he is drawing your panties to the side again and stroking your whole pussy from clit to entrance and back again.  His fingers are soaked by the time he puts them inside you, strong arm finding a steady rhythm quickly.  Combined with a couple sharp smacks to your ass, you come apart with a cry, whole body shaking as you grind back on his hand. 

You sink into the bedsheets, eyes closed, panting.  You feel his hand wet hand cup your thigh, then his fingers spreading your pussy open.  You clench around nothing and hear him curse. 

You look over your shoulder at him.  Even though you were the one who came, he looks completely wrecked, his fluffy black hair a dishevelled mess and his jaw clenched, shoulders tense.  You look a little lower, staring at the thick bulge in his sweats. 

It’s him who speaks first, his voice rough when he says, “You look… do you have any idea…” 

“You’re not wearing underwear, are you,” is what you end up saying, giggling.  “Boy lingerie.  Told you.” 

He snorts, grinning, looking more cocky than chagrined.  That expression morphs to curiosity and hope when you reach for a make-up bag sitting on the head-table. 

“Yes,” he says, when you pull a string of condoms out of it.  For some reason, it’s the funniest response he could have given, and you giggle a little more.  Those giggles come to a stop when he pulls your panties down, then rolls down the band of his sweatpants down too.  

Your mouth falls open.  “Wow,” you say.  “You are—”

“Girthy?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.” 

He mimes zipping his lips shut before taking the condom. 

You accidentally untuck the bedspread when he finally gets inside you.  One corner comes undone, and the second one follows when he starts fucking you in earnest.  It’s a good, full stretch, and you moan into the messy bedspread as he grabs your hips to pull you into every thrust.  You swear you see stars when he slides one hand up and around your neck, lifting your head and holding you by the throat as he fucks into you.  He slows down a bit to rub at your clit, making you come and spasm around him, before he drives himself quickly to completion. 

You end up sprawled facedown on the undone bed, your nightie in a state of disarray and your panties god knows where.  He flops down beside you, breathing hard, still pretty much dressed.  Once he’s caught his breath, he looks at you, smiling when he reaches out to brush some hair out of your face. 

You smile back, rolling into his open arms.  You rest your head on his chest and exhale.

Then, knowing it’ll get a reaction because he’s Changbin, you say, “That wasn’t bad.”

“Not bad!” he says, predictably loud.  “What do you mean not bad?  That was amazing.  Come here.”  He’s laughing now, pulling you close when you laugh and try to roll away.  “Get back here.  I’ll show you not bad.” 

[gyllenhaalstories]

COUNT IT DOWN — JAKE GYLLENHAAL

summary: jake grunts. jake grunts a lot. jake grunts very loudly. do i need to say more?

warnings: smut (semi public sex, quickie, fingering, penetration, orgasm control, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2920

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i can't get the sound of jake's grunts out of my head (not that i want to anyway) 🥵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"9, 10, 11, 12..."

You sighed. They had been counting to twenty so many times over, they probably hit the million mark by now.

"13, 14, 15, 16..."

You busied yourself around the gazebo, alternating between taking photos of the cloudy sky and videos of the gentle breeze that made the branches of the pretty flower bushes surrounding the area dance.

"Harder!"

The camera, following your movement, focused on Jake rather than the white flowers.

"17, 18, 19... 20!"

"Fuck!" Another grunt.

Jake's trainers and fitness team showered him in praise for sustaining yet another repetition of literal gut punches.

But all you could hear was the noises he just made.

Your man glanced over at you and waved, soft giggles completed the picture. He was gesturing something. For someone who spoke so much with his hands, he was not that good at it.

You figured he meant he was almost done. Or so you hoped.

The punches started all over again, but the sound of the gloves hitting Jake's skin and the redness that bloomed over his abs indicated they were going all in for this last set.

You approached the gazebo, attention focusing on the noises that Jake was making and how he scrunched his nose with each punch.

With each grunt too. Was it a subterfuge to distract himself from the pain, to trick his mind and body to take hit after hit?

Your jaw dropped, although only Jake noticed, while you watched them. It was mesmerizing. No, actually, it was hypnotizing.

The ceiling fans could not rotate fast enough to dry the layer of sweat that was all over Jake's body. He contracted his abs with all his might, hands behind his head and torso exposed to receive more torture. The masochistic exercise was sending his brain into overdrive.

You murmured a faint "You're gonna hurt yourself" that got blatantly ignored by everyone in the room. You clutched on your phone harder, as if you were receiving a part of all that pain too. The fingernails of your free hand dug crescent shapes into your palm.

"One more." His opponent was back at it with the assault on Jake's abs. Everybody in the room chanted the last series of numbers until the training was finally over. In between each digit, there was a loud grunt. In between each hit, the veins of Jake's pelvis bulged while pumping all the blood that made his skin a dark share of red.

Everybody but you retreated to one of the many entrances of the gazebo, getting ready to leave. Meanwhile, you leaned on the column for much needed balance.

"That was fantastic!" Jake laughed. His laughter was the only one that sounded genuine. The other guys chuckled, worried, at his appearance. They pointed out how he was "red as shit". To which Jake answered that "We want the movie to be good, you know."

You were concerned, still, but more so turned on by the scene.

The endorphins were hitting Jake hard. You could tell he was worked up in more ways than one. The euphoric giggles and cocky smile, the way he hopped and jogged around the gazebo to keep his body in this momentum. He was not hearing a word that his team was telling him, something about setting up his ice bath, as they exited the area in a cacophony of squeaky shoe noises. The only thing Jake acknowledged was your presence.

You let him walk to you close enough to pull you by the hand so he could kiss your lips.

"I knew it. I knew you wanted to watch." He smirked. "I gave one hell of a good show, didn't I?" He took your phone out of your hand and set it on the bench from where he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead with. "Don't tell me that's not true, it's written all over your pretty face."

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to stand up for yourself. "So, you're done now?"

Jake shrugged with a not-so innocent grin on his blushing face. "Kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda?" You sighed, annoyed. "If I hear you guys count up to twenty again today, I swear..."

"Ooh, I'm scared." He giggled again. He calmed down and squinted, looking at you through his long lashes. "No counting up."

Your satisfaction with his answer was short lived.

"But we'll count it down."

You watched him while he draped the towel down on the black mats. "Remember when I bet that you wanted to join me today? I was right." He took a step closer to you. "I'm feeling all the good luck running through my veins right now, so I wanna make another bet."

You looked at him with a confused arched brow. Your eyes studied his body. From the messy wet hair, down to the curve of his pecs, and even further down to his swollen abs; your eyes were met with the bulge in his shorts.

"I bet you that I can make you cum," he brought your attention back to his face. "With twenty thrusts."

"Here?" He nodded. His team was not far away, you could hear them dump bags of ice in the converted trash container that was used for temperature shocks. You rolled your eyes. Laughing while taking in so much pain was insane, but not having a care in the world about getting caught was even more insane. "Nah."

"Come on! I know you want to." He repeated the next words in a lower, quieter voice. "I know you want me to fuck you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "Twenty thrusts, that's all I'm asking." Jake loved to work his magic, he knew all too well that this same magic worked every time. Well, almost. "You gonna give it to me? Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy? Gonna let me show you who you belong to?" The hand that was on your cheek started to travel down your body, following the shape of your stomach until it slid under the hem of your clothes.

You gasped when you felt his warm hand cup your pussy underneath your panties.

He grunted when his fingers dipped ever so slightly in your wetness. "Yeah, you do. You want it so fucking bad." He pushed his middle finger between your folds and teased your clit. "You were getting so worked up from watching me that you had to go play in the flowers like a busy little bee. You couldn't keep your eyes off me for long, huh?"

You cut his monologue short with a passionate kiss. Your tongue invaded his mouth but quickly lost the battle for dominance.

The way you moaned against Jake's lips gave him the unspoken permission pull down your pants after you both kicked off your shoes. He broke the kiss to help you lay down on the towel and remove his shorts too. "I take it as you accept my bet?"

You both laughed while you gently slapped his chest. "Just fuck me already."

"Attagirl." You did not need to say it twice. Jake spread your legs open and positioned himself between them, kneeling and taking deep breaths while he took in the sight of you offering your body to him.

"We gotta be quiet." You reminded him about the risks of getting caught. What a waste of words.

Jake used your wet pussy to jerk off and lube his cock. He looked at you and how you squirmed under him. You were so wet for him, he glided over your folds and clit easily. "Oh yeah, looks like you care so much about being quiet." He didn't give you time to protest, he guided his cock and pressed it against your entrance. "I don't give a fuck if they hear. And judging by how wet you are..." He pushed, slowly, until his tip was inside of your clenching walls. "You want them to hear us too."

You moved on him, helping Jake get all the way inside you. He was surprised, but through a nod you both agreed that the first thrust did not count.

Jake puts his hands on your stomach, keeping you immobile and at his mercy. "Count down for me, baby."

And you did just that, or so you tried. Jake's first five thrusts were slow and deep, he let you get adjusted to his size while he praised you over and over again about how good you felt wrapped around him. He was rock hard, all the stamina built up from his training made it near impossible to hold himself back and stick to his stupid bet.

"Please, harder!"

Jake grunted in response. He obliged, happily. Selfishly, too. He scrunched his nose and bared his teeth with each thrust.

When you called out the number fifteen with a loud and long moan, he switched things up.

He lifted your legs so you could use his body to lean them on. In this position, you were slightly lifted upwards. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back in your pussy. The angle made your entire body flinch. He waited for you to say the next number out loud, but his patience ran out fast. "We're not even halfway done and you've gone dumb already? That's my good girl."

With the next ten thrusts, Jake successfully fucked the shyness out of you. You counted down from 15 to 5 loud enough to please him and most certainly loud enough to be heard. He was reaching so deep inside of you, that a few of those numbers failed to come out of your mouth. Instead, your incoherent "Ah, ah, ah" drove Jake even crazier and that made him want to keep hitting that sweet spot.

Now, there were five thrusts left. You could tell that Jake was dangerously close to the edge by the way he grunted louder and without any restraint. He was lost in the moment, without a care for the world that surrounded him. All that mattered to him was making you feel good.

"Fuck!" You cried out when his thumb brushed over your untouched clit. "That wasn't part of the," you panted, he rubbed your clit faster. "Of the rules."

"Do I look like I care?" He breathed out. "Look at me."

You batted your cock drunk eyes at him and took in the view. He looked so good, all sweaty and needy from this different, and much more entertaining, form of exercise.

"That's it, forget about it. You don't need to think." He pulled out, leaving just his leaky tip inside your hole. He watched your chest rise and fall with anticipation for the next thrust that followed quickly after.

"5... 4..." You counted along.

"3," Jake counted down with you. His thumb rubbed your clit at the perfect pace and intensity. Your pussy clenched so tight around him that he knew the last couple of thrusts would make it almost impossible not to cum too quickly. You were both so close. "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so fucking good."

"2." Your face twisted into a blissful expression. Nothing else mattered other than your imminent release. You rested your hands on Jake's arms, kind of trying to keep him close but also kind of trying to push him away so you could process the way your body felt in this very moment.

Jake stilled inside of you. The way your walls clenched and relaxed around his cock felt heavenly. He pulled out completely and sat back. He grunted when he caught the view of your pussy, juices leaking down on the towel from your stretched out hole. You looked so tempting, so delicious. If only he had more time, he would devour you like there was no tomorrow. If only. "Ready, baby?"

You nodded, hands reaching in his direction to try and bring him back where you needed him the most, which was balls deep inside of you.

"Yeah, you are." He leaned forward to kiss you, a distraction from the touch of his fingers on your sensitive clit. He needed you closer, impossibly closer, so that he could feel you explode all around him.

You arched your back. He swallowed your moans. Your legs tried to wrap around his waist, you were trying anything to get him to make you see stars.

"I regret this stupid bet." He scoffed. He looked down at his slick covered cock, it was red and veiny like the rest of his abdomen. It throbbed between your bodies. He could not wait any longer. He used his free hand to line himself with your entrance for the last time. He took a deep breath and exhaled when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Inch by inch, you felt all of his length until he bottomed out. With his thumb rubbing your clit, it all felt so intense. You let out your loudest moans yet when you started to cum on his command.

Jake tried to talk you through it, telling you that you were his "perfect cockslut" and that "your pussy was made to take my cum". He slurred his words more than anything.

His voice echoed in your empty mind, so did the sound of his grunts when your clenching walls brought him to his orgasm.

He fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your reaction to being filled with his load. Jake moaned your name when your pussy relaxed around him. It finally let him move, not that he wanted to.

Your legs fell down on the floor and you laid there, giggling to yourself. Jake lost no time to join you, laughing along while he kissed your lips.

You put one hand on his cheek and the other one on the back of his head, not caring for his sweaty hair. You pulled him closer for another kiss. You wanted this moment to last forever, and, well, you desperately wanted a second round.

"Oh shit." Jake cursed when he was called out for his ice bath again. "Just in time." He pointed out the odd timing, right when you guys finished. The was no way this was a coincidence.

Your eyes widened at the realization. There was no way this was a coincidence. They heard you. They heard it all.

"Coming!" Jake yelled out then exploded in a fit of giggles while he stood up and put his gym shorts back on.

"You're unbelievable." You, finally, laughed along with him while trying to hold your body up on your wobbly knees.

Jake looked down at you and scrunched his nose again. "You look so fucking good down there."

"I know." You agreed.

Jake winked at you, then he told you how you were the unbelievable one. He adjusted himself in his boxers, apprehending the temperature shock that awaited him, but you pushed his hands out of the way.

You licked over his puffy, red abs in a long stripe. You tasted his salty sweat on your tongue while you kept going for as far as you could.

You earned a loud grunt and helping hands to pull you back up on your feet. "You're not shy now, huh?" He smiled from ear to ear while he watched you dress up too. Jake promised himself that he was not going to let this be the only time you licked his sweat like that. You could not get away with doing something so hot.

You caught him staring so you stole a quick kiss from his lips as to not take an even longer and more suspicious amount of time before sending Jake back to his fitness team.

"Don't worry, baby." He tried to reassure you, which worked for a split second. "Everybody already heard you while you were cumming. I'm sure they won't mind if we take a little more time." Jake held your jaw in his hand and planted a long kiss on your lips, making sure you did not wiggle away from him just yet. He called the shots, or so he liked to think, and only pulled away when his named was called out again.

You shooed him away, laughing along.

"Go back to the house and wait for me there, yeah?" He started to jog away from you and exited the gazebo. "I'll need something to warm me up afterwards." He turned around to wink at you and he disappeared from your sight. You could still hear his mischievous giggling while you collected your senses, until the noise was replaced with the group of men loudly discussing the amount of ice to put in the makeshift bath.

You picked up the towel from the floor, hiding the evidence that the drops of his cum left behind, and you grabbed your phone from where Jake left it. You squinted when you noticed how it was propped up against a boxing glove, aimed in the direction where Jake fucked you. You gasped audibly when you discovered that your phone was recording the scene the entire time. You held your phone tightly in your hand and walked out of the gazebo, heart racing and heat radiating from your core.

Jake was right: he would need something warm to help him recover from the ice bath. And with this little video of yours... You knew exactly how to keep his favourite set of holes ready.

[vagabond-umlaut]

affaire de cœur

Plucking one's heart from their chest and devouring it is all 'affairs of the heart' meant to the King of Curses— until his Queen walked onto the stage of his life, that is.

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; comprises of elements inspired by the tale of 'hades and persephone'; gallons of domestic fluff between sukuna and reader; hints of spicy times; no warnings except sukuna is very much sukuna here but you too are there, so he's sort of a better sukuna... [not loads better, though]

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"Repeat those words after me, my lord."

"No."

The pouty face you vault his way from the other end of the bathhouse makes Sukuna huff an annoyed sigh. Few monsoons back, you would never even see him in the eye, gaze trained on his feet – until he lifted your chin up; even then you would shyly avert your gaze — yet, now?

Now, you show the boldness to wear such a pathetic expression while making such an imbecilic request– nay, demand of him– locking your gaze with his the entirety of the time, no less.

Another sigh finds its route past his lips. Watching the way those sin-filled lips of yours twitch in a tiny smile before dipping into a pout, he groans.

"Alright. Fine," Sukuna grumbles, resting his two arms on the edge of the tub while the other two move to card through his damp hair, "Will you ever leave me for another, woman?"

Your eyebrows rise for a beat, the second the question you chomped his ears off earlier for, leaves his mouth. Your lover rolls his eyes, loud scoffs erupting from him at the utter inanity of the whole situation at hand — you, not beside by him, but beside those damned towels and bath soaps; him, not soaking in the warmth of your flesh but of these bath waters; the humid bathhouse not resonating with the sounds of your whines but with the remnants of a query, whose answer he does not care the least for, for no matter what you say or do, he will not—

"Yes, I will."

Your clear voice scatters his thoughts away, akin a strong wind and a handful of chaff. Sukuna freezes, every crimson eye of his fixed upon your approaching figure– your soft footfalls, your yellow yukata, your simple hairdo, your angelic smile...

Your husband takes a while too long before discovering his lost voice, eyes narrowed, throat tight and chest heavy as he asks you, "You will leave me, pet?"

"Uh-huh, I sure will," you hum in response, sitting on the stool next to the tub and moistening a towel. Sukuna moves to grasp your wrist in his palm but pauses when he catches you switch your attention from the towel to him, a terrifying emotion brimming in your tender gaze.

You draw in a tiny breath before speaking, voice now a mere whisper.

"Show me someone who is the most feared creature to ever exist, yet is a sulking mess if he isn't being cuddled in bed till noon every single day; someone who detests humans like I detest carrots, yet visits the monthly market in secret, to get gifts for his close one; someone who everyone's told me is the worst, yet goes on to prove, again and again and again, how he's the absolute best in this world—"

You stop suddenly.

Chest growing heavy from an entirely different reason now, your lover drinks in the manner your smile widens, your fragile fingers letting go of the cloth to trace those markings on his skin instead – you resume.

"Show me someone whose embraces feel the safest place in all the three realms, and I swear, my king, I'll leave you and run to his arms without thinking twice."

For the first time in his millennium of existence, the two-faced curse feels the same distress of being paralysed, as his mere mien induces in the muscles of his miserable victims— except, it isn't the fear of an end to his life which is causing this abhorrent weakness to him unlike those worthless mortals— no.

It is the fear of the unknown, of the uncharted, which is rendering his powerful self so, so powerless before your blinding brilliance. Sukuna thinks death might be an easier journey to undertake than these odd realisations your voice and touch elicit in him always.

These days, more so.

This moment, very much so.

The addicting timbre of your voice rouses him from his musings, the second time that night.

"Is every–"

"Is that supposed to be a love confession?" Your husband cuts you off before you can finish your question. You slowly blink at him once then twice, before leaning backwards and picking up the forgotten cloth, a visibly coy giggle bubbling out you as you return to washing his skin.

"Yes," you agree after a beat, gaze darting to his face before skittering away again, "That is supposed to be a love confession for my beloved king; though I wonder what my lord thinks of it. Was it heart-touching as I intended to make it? Or did it sound too tedious to him?"

The addressed being deliberately makes a big show of rolling each of his four eyes at your query. "Neither," he says, curling his lip in a show of vexation before they lift a little at the lower lip you jut out, "And you should count yourself to be lucky that you're my wife, not a worthless mortal, pet. For if you were not my wife–"

"– you would've sliced me into halves without a moment's hesitation," you finish the rest of the sentences for him with a fond shake of your head. "Trust me, my king, I know you. I do, I rea– Sukuna!!!"

The startled shriek of his name— not my lord or my king but Sukuna —parts the curse's lips in a smirk, which widens on noticing the warm water slowly seeping into your clothes, making them translucent; and you staring up at him with a disbelieving look etched onto your pretty face.

Sukuna allows his smirk to melt away into a genuine smile, for once.

Nestling your drenched form closer to himself, he closes his eyes to rest his forehead on your shoulder, palms holding you as if you were not a member of the race he lives for the sake of tormenting, but an invaluable blessing, beings he has never believed in, sent earthward for his damned self.

Which is true, the curse reckons. You indeed are a blessing he knows he doesn't deserve – yet will keep for and with himself for an eternity and some more.

Pressing you closer to himself, your husband lifts his head to plant a kiss to your forehead, followed by your warm cheeks — hoping you'll understand the meaning behind every reverent contact he's marking your form with now.

After all, you know him really well, don't you?

[You do— which is only why you reciprocate every brush of his sharp canine over your skin, with a brush of your soft palm over the wicked, handsome, wickedly handsome visage of the love of your life.]

▸ masterlist

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART SEVEN.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re invited to the pits, which is a summer party that takes place in your hometown. however, you didn’t know what you were walking into.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ALCOHOL/DRUG CONSUMPTION/SMOKING, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,614

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: like stated, this part contains consumption of substances! just warning you as much as possible!

just a refresher, this series tackles some deep stuff. other than that, enjoy :)

y/n.l/n just posted a photo.

y/n.l/n

christophersturniolo

liked by matthew.sturniolo and others

y/n.l/n bitch stole my cap :/

view all 87 comments

user is this actually THE chris sturniolo or is that their long lost quadruplet?

↳ y/n.l/n i don’t kiss and tell🤫

user where tf did you come from😭

↳ y/n.l/n go ask your mom

christophersturniolo what a stud • ‪‪❤︎‬ by author

nicolassturniolo cutie pie • ‪‪❤︎‬ by author

↳ y/n.l/n we NEED to hang out

↳ nicolassturniolo I AM BEGGING

_.paige.m the little girls are going to hate you😭🙏 • ‪‪❤︎‬ by author

user don’t like how jealous i am right now

↳ user GIRL SAME

matthew.sturniolo where’s my invite? • ‪‪❤︎‬ by author

↳ christophersturniolo you’re just my uber bro • ‪‪❤︎‬ by author

↳ matthew.sturniolo 😐

jaiden975 this is insane i thought we hated him😒 • ‪‪❤︎‬ by author

↳ y/n.l/n he said he was sorry☹️

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃. 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 like the good old days whenever you talk to the triplets over facetime calls and group chats. you haven’t spoke to them since last night, but you missed it a lot.

your parents are in the pool while you’re getting ready in your room. when you’re about to throw on a bathing suit, you get an incoming call from paige. you answer, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on your desk. “hello?”

“i have something to tell you,” she says.

you raise a brow from the suddenness. “are you pregnant?”

“over my dead fucking body.” she scowls, rustling being heard on the other end. “there’s something called the pits happening tonight. are you down to go? finn and i are, and i’ll call claudia and jaiden after i’m done with you.”

clipping the top to your bikini, you look in the mirror before answering. “what the hell are the pits?”

“it’s where rebellious delinquents like we drink, smoke, and do other shit in this big-ass field. it’s an annual thing that happens in the summer.”

delinquents is a stretch, but you decide not to say it out loud. the thought of alcohol and weed catches your attention, but you still need more pieces on whatever this is. you’re not going to ask though; you’ll keep on keeping on like you always do. “sure, i’ll go.”

paige cheers and claps her hands. “awesome! i’ll text you more details. the only thing i can tell you right now is that finn will be driving all of us since he has the biggest car. i’ll talk to you later.” she explains, hanging up the phone.

after putting on your bathing suit cover and grab a towel, you approach the back deck to see your mom sitting in the pool with a white claw in her hand. your dad is at the mini bar mixing up whatever drinks he can think of, your chihuahua chichi — named by five-year-old you — prances around like she owns the joint.

of course, you’ll be heading toward the hot tub that is cozy in the corner of your backyard. the happiest place on earth, in your opinion.

“good morning!” you beam, making your way down the porch steps.

“mornin’!” your dad exclaims, taking a sip of his beverage. you place the towel down on one of the chairs next to the hot tub. with a hair tie on your wrist, you put your hair up into a high ponytail before placing yourself into the heaven of bubbles. you sit on one of the built-in seats, enjoying every second of what is surrounding you.

“how did i know you were going into the hot tub?” your mom asks sarcastically. you give her a warm smile, leaning back to absorb the warmness. your relaxation is soon rudely interrupted by a vibration from your phone. groaning, you check the notification.

paige😜‼️

jaiden and claudia are in too

we’ll pick you up at 7ish

be ready for one hell of a night ;)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍 is heard outside as you rush to put in your earrings. “mom, i’ll be back later!” you shout from the top of the stairs.

you start to run down them, but you get stopped by a figure. “wait, wait, wait, wait!” your mom says rapidly when you look up at her face.

“mom, i need to go. my friends are outside.”

“where are you going?” she asks, eyeing you up and down with her arms crossed. “who are you going with? the triplets?”

“no, not tonight. i’m going out with jaiden, claudia, and paige.”

“okay. but, where?” she stares at you for a beat. she is not letting you out of this until you tell her. see, your mom isn’t one to be strict and on top of you at all times, but whenever you go out late, she worries. the thing is, she’ll bury you six feet under if you tell her the truth. “i’m not sure yet. for now, we’re going to drive around. maybe go to some stores or get some food.”

“okay.” she sighs, more in a relief. “have fun, sweetie.”

another beep comes from the car as you shut the door, waving the group in the vehicle off to indicate that you are coming. you jog down the stairs and make your way into the backseat. as your friend said, finn is driving with paige right next to him. claudia is in the middle, meaning that you and jaiden are by the windows. “sorry. my mom was asking me a bazillion questions.” you explain as finn starts going 40 on a 20.

“are you prepared for the best night of your life? this is my favorite part of the summer.” paige says, turning her head towards you.

“sure, I’m beyond thrilled; but how come this is all of a sudden an annual thing and i’ve never heard of it?”

she shrugs. “okay, maybe this is the first time, but it’s going to be an annual thing.” she mumbles, a snicker tickling your throat. “and maybe you’ll meet a boy. who knows?” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

the place is already filled with people when you arrive. it looks like the age gaps went from high schoolers to people in their mid-twenties.

finn parks the car in the gravel parking lot that was split by a huge fence around the field. some people are in the parking lot, sitting on the hood of the cars doing all sorts of drugs, or making out against them. in the middle of the fence is a wide-open gate. you all get out of the car, paige zooming towards the wide opening. “paige! seriously?” finn shouts, sprinting to catch up with his girlfriend. claudia and jaiden link arms and sashay to the entrance. you stand back for a moment before finally getting the motivation to follow them. you’ve been to multiple parties, but this one is beyond any function you’ve been to.

the voices of at least a hundred people get louder the closer you get. there is a whole-ass DJ booth on one end, rainbow light illuminating it. the dance floor had a handful of people on it — the dance floor in question is a patch of dirt. you get a glimpse at the multiple ‘NO TRESPASSING’ signs around the place.

“y/n, y/n!” a voice shouts from behind you. you turn to see who it is. “i didn’t mean to book it like that. i was grabbing a drink.” paige explains, holding a whole glass of alcohol. “come here.”

before you can get a say in anything, she grabs your wrist and drags you through the dancers to a less crowded area. there are giant rocks stacked on top of each other with a rigid-looking table in front of them. the rest of the group is sitting on the rocks with their beverages and other things. there are other partygoers there, too, but you have no idea who they are. glass bottles of different types of alcohol are scattered on the grass next to the beat-up piece of furniture. the closer you get to it, the more you realize what’s on it: cocaine, weed, and bongs.

oh, shit.

“this is where the cool people are at,” finn announces, extending his arms as if he’s stretching. “pick your poison.”

you kneel to the liquids and pick up the bottle of smirnoff. “you want a cup?” he asks, holding out a red solo cup for you.

giving him a face, you shake your head. “i’m not a pussy.”

finn smirks and looks at paige. “she’s cool. i like her.”

moments later, you are all bent over the table inhaling the white powder into your nostrils. the glass of smirnoff is already half empty; alcohol slowly starting to affect all of you. claudia passes over the bong, the large group howling with laughter at god knows what. you take a deep hit, blow it out, cross your arms on the table, and rest your head on them. this feels fantastic.

with your eyes half closed, you manage to make out two figures that stand out to you from afar. one of them is way taller than the other. they are walking and talking simultaneously, becoming closer to where you’re seated. you pick up your head and tilt it, trying to examine them more before they come into the tiny illuminating light from a streetlight. you look at the others, who are either still ingesting things or in their conversations. the two boys lean on the rocks next to you, and your vision makes you see more clearly.

the tall one catches your attention first. he has piercing blue eyes and brunette hair that isn’t too short or too long. you can see his cheekbones so clearly. you can’t explain it, but his face is so… perfect. high or not, he is by far the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.

on the other hand, the one standing next to him is a few inches shorter. he has black curly hair that covers the lids of his brown eyes. both of them look like complete opposites. tall boy is cleaned up nicely and shortie is more on the IDGAF edgy side.

now that you think about it, they both look oddly familiar. maybe you’ve seen them on one of your summer walks, but that still doesn’t make sense to you. you stumble to your feet with a groan. “i’m going to try and find a bathroom.” you slur to nobody in particular.

you’re walking past the boys when one of them gasps. “no fucking way. y/n?”

dizzy, you look at them and stop in your tracks at the mention of your name. it feels like the drugs and alcohol you consumed have left your body. no wonder he was the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. the one and only kevin butler is standing in front of you.

the kevin butler you had a crush on from middle school to freshman year.

the kevin butler you embarrassingly wrote about in your journal all those years ago.

next to him is this kid named elias. he went to high school with you, but you don’t recall talking to him much. you’ve only seen him in the halls and at parties. “i can’t believe it’s actually you.” elias says.

“huh?” that is all you can get out.

“you’ve been quiet after high school. i thought you lowkey died,” elias says smugly, the dimples from his smile decorating his cheeks.

“cut it, wright.” kevin hisses, smacking his friend on the chest.

“um, yeah.” you scratch the back of your neck. “what are you guys doing here?”

kevin shrugs. “we got invited. i didn’t want to come, but this guy forced me into it, and i’m glad that he did.”

his eyes dart down your body. the world is more beautiful with him in it. you forgot how gorgeous he is.

elias takes a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket, places one in his mouth, and lights it. he guides the box towards you and you take one. putting it in your mouth, you lean forward for him to ignite the small flame from the lighter. you puff out the smoke and sigh. “so, uh, how have you been?”

“living the dream.” kevin says, which is the most cliche response to that question. “working, pretty much. nothing too crazy.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose with a sniffle. “well, it was great to see you again. i need to go to the bathroom. sorry to cut this short.” you quickly — but carefully — walk in the opposite direction. you nibble on your bottom lip, flustered at what just happened.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 in a circle. you are in the same area as before, but this time on the ground. jaiden and claudia are giggling about something, finn and paige are whispering to each other, and you sit in silence with your knees to your chest.

you’re too out of it to do anything.

“we’ll be right back,” paige says, she and finn getting up with their hands interlocked.

“where are you going?” you stammer, looking at them with your bloodshot eyes.

“the car.” finn winks. paige giggles before they quickly jog away.

jaiden’s phone gets a message shortly after. “my brother is here.” she tells claudia and then looks at you. “we would leave with you guys but my mom will kill me if i don’t get home soon.”

“It’s fine,” you mutter. both of them leave, just like paige and finn. is it fine? you’re honestly not sure. you feel so euphoric, but also like shit at the same time.

and here you sit, alone at a place you don’t know. you are having fun, but you need to escape. your head is pounding to the point where you can’t think, and beyond that, you’re exhausted. you’re surprised you can find the contact in your phone from the state you’re in. after a few rings, they pick up. “hello?”

“matt?” you grumble.

“yeah? are you okay?” he asks with concern. “you don’t sound like you’re home. where are you?”

“big ass field, that’s where.” you slur.

“the pits was tonight, wasn’t it?” you can hear scurrying on the other end, keys clinking together. “okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes. stay put, please. i’ll text you when i’m there.”

“mhm.” you hum. matt ends the call, and you lean your head back on the rocks as if it is the most comfortable pillow on the planet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

matthew🫠

i’m here

i would go in to try and find you but i’m too scared

gaining balance from grabbing onto a surface, you manage to stand up. the music is obnoxiously loud as you stumble down the pathway to the entrance. you see the minivan's headlights in the distance with matt leaning against the driver's side. “matt,” you mumble.

you’re surprised he hears you since his head perks up from the device to look in your direction. “jesus, y/n.” he whispers, jogging over to be at your aid. he wraps his arm around your waist to help you get to the car.

matt leans over your body to fasten your seatbelt. he closes your door, going around the front of the van to get in on his side. he starts the car, but instead of driving, he looks at you. “are you going home?”

you curse under your breath, followed by a facepalm. your mom will kill you if she sees you like this. “you know what,” matt starts, changing the gear to drive. “you can stay with us for the night.”



𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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[afro-hispwriter]

A Betrayal No More(final)

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Velaryon!reader

Summary- Aemond has been thrown into the dungeons just hours after your death, but the blacks need Aemond and Aemond needs you. 

Warnings- angst ending with fluff, mentions of torture, murder, battle of the gullet comes wayy faster than it actually does lol, dragon death

Part 3 of the Betrayal mini-series 1 2

Wc-3.3k+

-

Aemond was thrown into the dungeons along with Criston. They quickly found out that wasn't a wise idea since it ended up with Aemond almost choking the man out. 

He's not sure how long he'd been down there but he's been questioned a lot. But Criston on the other hand has been tortured, daily. He heard his screams of pain, and it made Aemond cringe. That man was the closest thing to a father he ever had but he was also the same man who killed the love of his life in front of him, however many days it's been since. 

Aemond thought they were going to starve him out but those thoughts were soon erased when Daemon Targaryen himself. His uncle, and father of his late love, came down and opened his cell door. Daemon glared harshly at his nephew, tightening his jaw and fist.

"Come boy." He demands but Aemond doesn't move, just sits there and looks at him wearily. "A hot bath and food has been prepared for you." Aemond cocks his head to the side before standing up.

"Preparing me for my execution?" 

"Every day I have the urge to come down here and cut your head off and send it to your family. But the queen says if it's true you are here to bend the knee, we need you." Daemon steps out of the way but Aemond still hesitates. "We don't have all day." 

"Hmm, lead the way." Aemond has only been to Dragon Stone maybe less than a handful of times. Daemon started his descent to the stairs with Aemond in tow. 

"Letting your daughter's killer out Daemon?" Gasps out Cristion making both men stop. 

"I guess you have gone mad Criston, you will never know freedom again." Daemon spits out and continued his way up the stairs. 

Aemond kept space between him and his uncle. There was still a chance this was all a trick and he was being led to his execution. But no. Daemon opened the door and the hot steam hit them both in the face. 

"Enjoy," Daemon says and Aemond walks through and Daemon shuts the door. A pretty servant girl appeared.

"Would you like assistance with bathing my prince?" She asks and Aemond shakes his head no. She nods and gives a bow before leaving. Once Aemond knew he was alone he started discarding the clothes he had on. He still had dried blood on his hands. Her blood. It made him sick to his stomach. 

Aemond settled into the water and sighed deeply. The warmth was very welcoming after being in a cold cell for days.

He wasn't sure how long he was in there but his fingers started to prune and the water started going cold. He scrubbed his skin quickly, dirt and mud from the cells had already turned the water dark and the blood made it worse.

His hair was a lost cause. He could wash out the gunk but it would be a frizzy mess. He stepped out of the bath cautiously and grabbed the towel. He dried himself off and the cold air made him shiver. His wet hair not helping so he tied it up in a low bun. 

The clothes given were a simple white tunic and a pair of pants, his boots from before would have to do. 

Aemond stepped out of the room refreshed. A guard in the hall came up to him.

"The Queen has asked for your presence." He says and Aemond gives a nod. They both walk to the map room where the other half of his family is. 

Baela noticed him first, she had a hard glare on her face. Rhaenys saw him but kept her face neutral, demoted of any emotion. Rhaena was absent. Luke and Rhaenyra stood together, while Jace stood off to the side fists clenched and fresh tear streaks on his face. 

Daemon's hand was tightly gripped on his sword. He also seemed to have taken a bath but his red fists were clear as day.

"We have a meal for you, brother," Rhaenyra says and Aemond says the plate of hot food with a cup of wine. He slowly walked down the steps, one by one until he was behind the chair. The smell enticed him so much, he pushed the chair back and sat in it. Digging into the food greedily. 

They watched him eat, everyone in that room had mixed emotions about him. Some found him guilty, some blamed him, others knew they needed him. 

"Vermithor was last confirmed to be seen crossing the Stepstones and there are reports they saw him carrying something." Aemond stopped eating at the mention of the dragon. 

"Any guesses as to where he is going?" 

"Valyria," Luke says and Aemond sees others in the room sigh or shake their heads. "Maybe Vermithor knows something we don't."

"He's never been to Valyria, none of our dragons have Luke," Jace says.

"But he's still a dragon, that's where his and our ancestors originated." 

"That doesn't explain why he would take Y/n there." Aemond snaps at the boy and Rhaenyra grabs Luke’s hand. "After this is done, I'm going to look for them." 

"What makes you think you're leaving?" Daemon asks and he takes a step closer Aemomd drops his spoon and sits back. 

"You have me and Vhagar now, you can have throne by lunch." Aemond took a bite of his food again.

"We kept you in the dungeons too long. Your grandfather has gotten the support of the Triacrhy and they attacked the Velaryon fleet at the Gullet. 

"You need me to sort it out?" Aemond asks and he downs the wine.

"You and Jace will fly out, using force only if necessary." Rhaenyra and Aemond cracked his knuckles and pushed the chair back.

"Let's go now." He started walking away, not knowing where he would go. But he didn't want to be there.

"Aemond stop," Rhaenyra says and he stops. "You must rest, Daemon is going to take Harrenhall." 

"I will rest when this is over." 

-

Your eyes shot open and the air rushed back into your lungs giving you a horrible spike of pain. You were rushed with cold then you were burning.

"You're okay Lady Y/n." The voice was loud but it was also so sweet and low. You looked around but you could only see the orange glow of fire and you were clearly in a rock structure. A soft pair of hands wrapped themselves around your back and they slowly helped you sit up. The cloth covering your breasts fell in your lap but you made no effort to grab it again. 

You turned your head slowly to meet with a woman. Her hazel eyes pierced through yours. Her dark hair was shining in the light. 

Your heart started racing and you felt across your body when you felt the scars. One look down and the flashes of the blade going in and out of your abdomen. You remembered the flooding of blood in your mouth and... Aemond.

"Ae-." Your voice barely came out, a tiny squeak at best.

"Rest your voice, my lady, your prince is safe." The woman says and walks away and bends down to grab something. She stands back up and she has clothes in her arms. "Your family needs you." She held her hand out to you and you shakily grab it. She helps you plant your feet on the cold floor and your legs shake, the last piece of cloth falling leaving you naked. "Hold onto the table." 

You slowly turned around and held onto the stone slab. Her hands touched your back and she rubbed her finger along the scars.

"They will heal nicely."

"H-How am I alive?" You ask lowly, she smiles behind you.

"Thank your dragon and the Lord of Light, my lady." 

-

You've heard of the Lord of Light, but you didn't believe in him. You didn't even believe in the Seven. But as you walked through the temple with Seraphine, the priestess who brought you back, this lord of light seemed to be even more real. 

Seraphine gave you a pair of pants and a black long tunic. Your hair burnt at the edges, ultimately damaging some of your hair. 

"Where is Vermithor?" You were still trying to find your voice.

"He has taken the liberty and made a home in a field feeding on cows." There were two guards standing post in front of the door. One nod from Seraphine and they opened the doors. The bright lights outside made you stumble. A servant of the temple appeared and he held a pouch of food and a canteen of water. “May I ask you something?” 

You nodded.

“What did you see when you passed?” She asks, almost desperately but keeping calm. 

“Nothing. I saw nothing.” You say and she lets out a quick sigh.

"May the Lord of Light guide you" Seraphine says. You took the pouch from the servant and nodded at them.

"Thank you." You say to both Seraphine and the servant, and maybe to R'hollor himself. 

-

Volantis, that is where you ended up. That is where Vermithor brought you, which confused you. Vermithor has no history of ever being near here, so how did he know to come here?

But the dragon wasn't a hard miss. He lay comfortably in the field. The people of Volantis had started huddling up and pointing at the beast. Some had never seen a dragon or it's been too long. You pushed past them and with one look at your hair and your approach to the dragon, they all backed off and whispered.

"Who is she?"

"Lady Y/n Targaryen? That is her dragon up there."

"But she's supposed to be dead, killed by her lover."

"That has to be Daemon Targaryens eldest."

Vermithor raised his head when he noticed you and raised it to his full height. He then lowered his neck so he could greet you. You reached up and the second you touched his warm, scaly skin you smiled. Smiled hard, you weren't sure how long you had been dead but it felt great.

"I am in debt to you." Vermithor gave a small growl of acknowledgment, the large dragon then showed you his neck so you had access to the ropes of his saddles. "Take me home."

-

Aemond stood in her bedroom. Memories of the two flooded him. The amount of times he has snuck in here and the times he almost got caught. Her bed was still made since the last time she was there.

It was hard to believe barley a week ago she was begging him to join her. Barley a week since he watched the life leave her eyes the next day.

"Daemon's taken Harrenhall." Jace's voice came from behind him. Aemond turned around to see his nephew in his riding gear and armor. Aemond walks towards him, hair swaying behind him to bump into the boy in front of him. Jace's fists clenched then he relaxed. "I know what your intentions are." Aemond stopped walking. "She wouldn't want you to do that, uncle."

"That is not of your concern, I will look for her regardless of where I am." 

-

Vhagar is the largest dragon alive. She is a hardened warrior. But that doesn't mean she isn't an easy target for ships, as her old age has made her slower and less agile. Her dragon fire is devastating but it won't do anything if she is shot out of the sky. 

Jace and Vermax focused more on the actual people on the ships rather than destroying the ships. Leaving that to Aemond and Vhagar.

Everything was going well until Aemond witnessed Vermax get caught in a grapple and yanked down. No doubt the dragon's death was immediate. Jace leapt off and crashed into the water and Aemond knew his nephew was in trouble. Vhagar dove and the men on the ships brought their crossbows out.

But before Aemond could yell the word 'Dracarys'. Another dragon swooped in under him and instantly laid waste to the ships. It forced Aemond to pull Vhagars reigns and urge her to stop.

Anyone familiar with any of the dragons can recognize the Bronze Fury. But Aemond was more than familiar with the Bronze Fury. Aemond leaned over Vhagar to catch a glimpse at the dragon flying below. 

The silver hair stood out against everything else. 

Aemond felt his heart skip multiple beats. He blocked out all the chaos, Vhagar maneuvering herself around spears. He is no longer worried about Jace. Aemond gripped the reigns and leaned forward.

"Pikagon(follow), Vhagar!" The dragon dipped down and followed behind Vermithor. Aemond was intent on getting a look at the rider. 

The combination of Vhagar and Vermithor fire destroyed the majority of the fleet. Less than 15 ships remained before white flags were waved and the retreat began. 

Aemond could barely focus, his sole attention on Vermithor. But then the dragon changed direction and flew away. Aemond, with no hesitation, followed. 

Vermithor Landed on a sandbank and Vhagar circled until she landed as well. The dragons stood opposite of each other. Aemond shakily made his way down until his boots hit the sand. The person on Vermithor made the same action. 

Aemond walked forward a few steps and he saw you. He saw you from that great distance. His legs were moving before he could register it. 

"Aemond!" He heard his name come from your voice and it spurred him faster. You had started running too, but Aemonds long legs had him reach you much quicker. You crashed into him but he held himself so he only stumbled. He grabbed your arms and looked at you. He looked you up and down. 

"H-How? I watched you die." Aemond's eye started to gloss and suddenly his eyepatch was growing irritating. You shakily brought your hands to his face and caressed his cheek with your thumb. 

"Vermithor took me to Volantis and a red priestess brought me back. The Lord of Light brought me back." 

For a moment Aemond believed he died and just hasn't realized it. But it all felt too real. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." He pressed his forehead against yours and let the tears fall freely, the same tears falling from his other eye started to accumulate in his eyepatch. 

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should have just left with you the first time."

"There was no way we could have known, but I'm back, and hopefully for a long time." Aemond sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled backward. You grabbed his arms tightly and his knees buckled so he landed on them. You went down with him and wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders.

Aemond laid the side of his head on your chest so he could feel and listen to your heartbeat. He takes continuous deep breaths and you cradle the back of his head. Your fingers then unbuckled his eyepatch and you tossed it into the sand. 

"Aemond." He looks up, his violet eye matching yours. The sapphire shining. "I'm here, I'm okay." He swallowed harshly and looked around. 

No enemies to be seen. Just your dragons on opposite sides of the sand bank and the burning of ships in the distance.

No one was there to take you away from him again. 

Aemond kisses you like he never did before. He wrapped his arms securely around your body and pulled you onto his lap. 

He grabbed at your clothes and pinched the material tightly. He kissed you as if his life depended on it. But it was all too much for you and you pulled pack. He pushed his face into your neck, his cold nose making you shudder. His thin lips pressed against your neck, followed by multiple pecks along the skin. 

"Aemond no." He now laid sloppy wet kisses. "I smell of dragon and death." 

"Don't care."

'Cough, Cough'

Aemond pushed you to the side and scrambled to his feet. Unsheathing his sword in the process.

Jace shook his hair and hacked up more salt water. 

"Jace." You whisper and scramble up but this time running to him. "Jace!" 

He looked up from the sand to see your figure and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Y/n?" You collapsed to your knees and pulled him in. "B-But you're- am I?"

"No, you're not. I'm here Jace, I'm alive." He was trying to take in the information but exhaustion came over him and he slumped in your arms. Aemond walked up behind you to inspect his nephew.

“We need to get him back to Dragonstone.” 

-

Word reached Daemon in Harrenhall as soon as possible when the Bronze Fury was seen at the Gullet. He was back on Caraxes immediately to fly out. Velaryon and Triarchy ships were still ablaze but no sight of any dragons. The next best place would be back to Dragonstone. 

And he was right. Daemon sees Vermithor being tended to by the dragon keepers. He landed Caraxes and walked in through one of the many entrances to the castle.

He passed servants on his way to the council room, helmet clenched in his fist. They stared at him or their eyes would widen at the sight of him. Two guards at the door pushed it open for him. Everyone’s eyes turned to him and they grew silent. 

His eyes couldn’t help but trickle over to the bundle of silver hair. Baela and Rhaena stood there hugging you. Daemon’s hand went weak and the helmet clattered to the ground loudly.

You split from your sisters and smiled at Daemon.

“Father.” Daemon didn’t move from his spot when you reached him. He grabbed you and pulled you in tightly. 

“I- how? When?” He wanted to ask so many questions but you shook your head. 

“I'm here, that's all that matters.” Daemon stayed silent and held you tighter. 

-

Criston’s execution was minutes after the reunion. Death by dragon. Baby dragons, juvenile dragons. It was a horrifying watch.

-

“Do you think the red god exists?” You ask Aemond as he gently drags his finger along the healing puncture marks. 

“There are many gods.” You lean against his chest, the water in the tub sloshing. 

“Have you read about this one?” 

“There isn’t much in the library.” He kissed the side of your head and you tilted your head back. 

“And there has never been a resurrection recorded.” Aemond tensed up. 

“We don’t even know if you were actually dead, you could have passed out and I simply missed it.” 

“You watched me die,  Aemond. You saw me dead.” Aemond rolled his head and shook it side to side. “I saw nothing, the whole time there was nothing. No dream, no god to take me someplace, none of our ancestors talked to me. It was just nothing.” You started to cry and grasped the edges of the tub. Aemond wrapped his arm securely around you and cradled you. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” 

It wasn’t until you stopped crying that you could speak clearly again. You stared at the candle, the fire flickering back and forth.

“Aemond?”

“Hmm.”

“I want to give my thanks to this, god.” Aemond sighed but pressed his cheek onto the top of your head. He refused to fight about something like this. 

“Whatever you need, I am here.” The rumble coming from his chest when he spoke was comforting. 

“Avy jorrāelan(I love you).” You say and kiss his bicep. “He is the one who brought me back to you.” 

-

A/n- holy fuck, two fucking years later lol

[letsgauxplay]

*brb swooning*